She shied away from that part of the memory. No, she didn’t want to them to come pick her up. It would only create unpleasant associations even if this was nothing like her trip in the cop car had been four years ago.
For a brief moment, Morgan wondered what kind of person she would be now if her parents hadn’t died. If she’d finished growing up in the warm, loving home that they’d made for Tara and her. Or, even if that hadn’t happened, who would she be if she’d stayed with the Grissoms? Her third set of foster parents had been pretty great. They’d helped her to find the way through the grief of Tara’s death so close on the heels of her parents.
She had left that home by her own choice. It had been the right choice at the time and even if she’d known what was coming, she would still have made it. They had helped her and leaving had opened enough room in their house that they could take all four of the siblings who’d recently lost their parents instead of just three of them. It had been a selfless act, one that had turned her whole life into a mess. It remained the best thing she’d ever done, would probably ever do.
She was a channel and the irony was, Morgan didn’t feel anything like someone the Higher Powers would want to entrust their energy with. Isobel was the epitome of what Morgan thought a channel should be. Sweet, concerned with the well-being of others, and even tempered. Pretty much everything Morgan was not.
The Higher Powers must have been drunk the day they chose her. There was no other explanation for it. Flaws were okay, Morgan knew that both from the one past life where she lived to grow old, and from Arabrim. What about scarred and broken with all the little pieces barely held together? Was severely damaged really good enough?
There was no answer to that question other than the power that was a part of every fiber of her being. As Morgan slipped through the streets like a shadow, using every skill she had to go unnoticed, she couldn’t help wondering what the Higher Powers saw in her.
Though it would have been quicker to follow one of the main roads west to where Damien and Isobel lived, Morgan elected to stay on the smaller roads, cutting through slumbering neighborhoods when she could. It added some distance to the nearly twenty miles of walking she already had to do, but it was quieter and safer.
A small, somewhat rundown junkyard blocked her path. She briefly thought about skirting it before throwing the idea out. It would likely be morning before she got there as it was, the last thing she needed was to make this take longer than necessary.
The privacy fence that separated the neighborhood from the junkyard was loose at the bottom in several places. Morgan crawled through and started across the cracked pavement path between cars, old appliances, and numerous other items unidentifiable in the dark that created piles and towers. From the grass that grew through the pavement and the tall, dead stems of weeds that stood like wasted sentinels next to rusted cars, it was obvious this junkyard had fallen into disuse.
Morgan glided past a large square building with boarded up windows that perched near the center of the junk maze and froze in the shadows. They were here, she sensed them. If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her head and paid more attention she would have known before ever setting foot this side of the fence. Stupid. Couldn’t be changed now.
Closing her eyes she searched for them. Five close, more farther out. She could see now they’d been closing in on her all night, staying just far enough away she didn’t pick up on it. Shit. There were going to be far too many.
THE FIRST FIVE demons slid from around the piles of rusted metal nearest Morgan. Not a single lower-level among them. This wasn’t good. The one in the lead slinked closer, its shadowy shape barely visible against the night. Morgan embraced her power and pulled on it, welcoming the sharper senses it gave her. The shapes became easily visible in the darkness. The others would be here before she could even hope to banish any of these.
There was only one thing she could do. She raised a circle…around herself. One of the lessor mid-levels flung itself at her with a shriek and bounced back. Morgan chuckled. “It works both ways; if you can’t get out when you’re in it then you can’t get in when you’re out.”
The largest of them snarled and the smaller one shrank away. The larger shifted its red gaze to her. “Inola.”
Okay, this was just getting creepy. Morgan dug in her back pocket for her phone. Screw how it felt to be picked up. She pulled it out and touched the button on the side to turn it on.
“Inola, do not be so quick to run away,” the guttural voice said. “Little black fox, you could stand by the side of our master. You would not need a dark angel,” it spat the last two words. “You would be strong enough to handle everything on your own. Would never need to depend on another. Never have to watch another die because you lack the strength to do what is necessary.”
The screen on the phone glowed to life as Morgan looked up at the demon. It was playing on her fears. Tempting her with what it hoped she wanted most. Offering everything she ever wanted.
Morgan tapped the screen and gave the demon a feral smile. “Tell your master to go fuck himself.”
“Hello? Morgan?”
“Heya, Lucian. You know all of that dark angel stuff you can do?”
“Yes,” he answered slowly.
“I could kind of use it about now.”
“Where are you?”
“In a junkyard somewhere between the park I was at last night and Damien’s house.” A demon crashed into the side of the circle.
“What was that?” The sound of air rushing past the microphone on the other end told her he was on his way.
“Just a bunch of pissed off demons.”
“I can sense you, I’m almost there.”
“Lucian?”
“Yeah?”
“There are more coming, be careful.”
“Don’t worry, Morgan, I got this. I’m bringing the party.”
The line cut off and Morgan shoved the phone back in her pocket. The larger demon came close to the edge of her circle but didn’t touch it. “You can either have power beyond anything you know, or the Kalona will rip out your heart and become more powerful than he already is.”
Morgan narrowed her eyes. “You guys are like those door-to-door salesmen aren’t you? Never know when to leave. Always with the, ‘buy my vacuum or die’ kind of thing.”
“When the Kalona consumes your heart, your mouth will be silent,” it snarled.
“Well, tell him good luck with that. He wouldn’t be the first to try and shut me up.” She rolled her eyes.
A rush of air whipped over them as Lucian landed. Damien, with Isobel held tight in his arms, landed right behind. Morgan chuckled when their eyes widened at seeing her. Guess they’d never seen a channel circle herself.
The demons turned on them with shrieks. Isobel stepped away from Damien and immediately raised more circles than Morgan had ever seen at once. Golden-white light flared around Isobel in intense waves. The dark angels set to work on the lower demons, their voices mixing as Latin rolled off their tongues. With the number of demons reduced dramatically, Morgan dropped her circle and raised four around the nearest shadowy figures. Three banished easily, the fourth broke free and lunged at her.
Morgan ducked, twisted and came up just out of the way of its reaching arms. She slammed her foot into its side. Off balance, it crashed into the wall of the building. Raising the circle again, she banished it as more demons swarmed into the spaces between buildings.
More circles when up. Morgan tried to keep her back to the wall while raising circles and banishing as many as she could. When one jumped at her, she leaped away and crashed into another. It grabbed her from behind. Keeping her focus, she threw a circle around the one while twisting and wriggling away from the other. It clutched at her, trying to maintain its grip. The moment it dropped her, she scooted back and threw a circle around it too then banished both at the same time.
Lucian’s hand closed around her arm and pulled her to feet. “Time to g
o, no sense killing ourselves over these tonight.”
Nodding, Morgan wrapped her arms around Lucian’s neck. “Go.”
He secured his arms around her and rose into the air just behind Damien. Morgan thrilled at the feeling of it. She’d always loved flying with Arabrim though they hadn’t done it often. But as they soared over the city, moving quickly west, she started wanting down more than anything else. This was the first time she’d been this close to Lucian and now she needed to get away from him.
Her heart beat a wild staccato. The heat of his bare chest burned through both layers of her shirts. The scent of his skin swirling past her on the wind was intoxicating and her body responded. It wanted more of him and with fewer clothes between them. Her brain threw up red flags and screamed warnings that the rest of her paid little heed to.
This was not good. Being surrounded by demons was preferable. Fighting on the streets was preferable. She did not want to feel this way about Lucian. Arabrim had never been anything more than an older brother of sorts. When they’d flown like this she’d been able to enjoy the sensation it brought. There’d been no other distractions.
Now, all she had were distractions. The enjoyment of flight was buried under the feel of his muscles as they shifted and the warmth of his arms around her. When they touched down in the backyard of a house, she unlocked her arms and leaped away, putting blessed distance between them.
His tawny eyes stared at her in the darkness as he stood unmoving. Morgan averted her gaze and tried to get her breathing under control. A leftover from fighting the demons and their rushed exit, that was all.
Lucian watched her, trying to understand what was going on in her head. Trying to understand what was going on in his own, why the beat of his heart matched hers. He couldn’t feel this way about Morgan. He valued his independence, liked being a free agent. The last time he’d been assigned a specific channel had been over five hundred years ago. Why now? Why had the Higher Powers tied him to this woman?
He would have to keep his distance as much as possible. The way she stood with her arms crossed and eyes averted while she caught her breath held a hint of vulnerability. Lucian was sure she rarely showed that and didn’t purposely intend to now. It tugged at something deep inside him. He shoved it away. Stick to the basics. “Are you all right?”
Startled, Morgan glanced at him. Was she? All except the crazy thoughts crowding unwanted into her mind. “I’m fine.” She took in the yard and back of the house. “Where are we?”
“My house.”
When she turned her full attention on him, he was watching her with a wary look. The same kind of reassuring yet cautious expression one used with a half-tamed animal. He thought she was going to run now that they were safe. Honestly, the thought actually sounded good right about then. No, she’d made her decision and the demons made it clear that she was a target for some unknown reason. Until Morgan knew why and could take care of it, she was stuck with Lucian.
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “I thought we were headed to Damien and Isobel’s”
He crooked a grin at her. “They live just down the street. Don’t worry; they aren’t far if you need to call Isobel and rant at her about me.”
His grin made her heart skip. The Higher Powers were trying to kill her. No, that was okay. She would just keep her distance from him. Unless a bunch of demons showed up and they had to fly again, there was no reason at all to ever touch him again.
Morgan shook her head. “Great.”
The words between them sounded awkward and forced and he looked as uncomfortable as she felt. For some place, any place else to look besides at him, she glanced down at her dirty and ragged clothes. Compared to Lucian she looked like some alley cat. “Got any place I can clean up? I’m not even going to tell you how long it’s been since I’ve had a proper shower. There’s only so much that can be done in public bathrooms.”
“There are three bathrooms. One off my bedroom, one off the upstairs hall and one on the main level. Isobel ensured the house was well outfitted for living and kept you in mind when she did it.” His gaze shifted to look behind her. “However, I think there is someone here who would like to see you, unshowered and all.”
Morgan turned quickly to look at the house. Standing on the other side of a sliding glass door, Lucy gazed at her with brown eyes while her stubby tail wagged. A smile broke across Morgan’s face and she crossed the patio to the door. Sliding it open, she dropped to her knees accepting the multitude of licks on her face while she ran her hands over the dog.
Lucy’s fur felt softer than it had. Morgan pulled away to look, noticing the dog didn’t stink like she had on the streets. “Did you give her a bath?”
He nodded. “As soon as I got her home. She smelled awful.”
Morgan followed him into the house with Lucy on her heels. Lucian pointed toward the stairs. “First door on your left is your room; the bathroom is down the hall. Isobel wasn’t sure what you would have, if anything, so there are some t-shirts and sweats. I can take you shopping for more clothes or you can go with Isobel if you would rather.”
“Okay. Uh, thanks.” She edged away from him and started for the stairs. Memories of Arabrim were getting all tangled up in the events of the present. She’d desperately wanted a shower then, too.
Her footsteps were silent on the carpeted stairs and she found the room with no trouble. Isobel definitely had her in mind when she decorated the room. Pale rose colored walls were broken only by the large, white-curtained window. A very soft and comfortable looking king sized four poster bed was bracketed by two nightstands that matched the dark wood of the bed. Rose-colored swirls made patterns on the dark burgundy comforter. A dresser that matched the bed stood against one wall with white candles on its top along with a hairbrush. The door to what she figured was a closet was set in the opposite wall. Not that she would have much use for the closet other than a place to put her backpack.
After opening the door and confirming it was a closet, she dumped the backpack on the floor inside then went back into the hall in search of the bathroom. An office occupied the room across from hers. Next to that was the room she sought.
Morgan flipped the light on and shut the door. A look at her hands showed dirt encrusted in the skin of her wrists and arms. She glanced in the mirror. The too-thin face with fading bruises on it and the rat’s nest of dark hair around it surprised her. Did she really look that bad? After stripping her clothes off and stuffing them in the hamper, she cranked on the water and climbed in.
It took three washes before her hair and body felt clean enough. It was a relief to find conditioner, Isobel really had thought of everything. She slathered the conditioner into her hair then took plenty of time rinsing it out, enjoying the flowing hot water as much as anything. She even took the time to shave. Something as simple as a shower was pure, unadulterated bliss.
When the water finally began to cool, she turned it off and stepped out. After wrapping her body and hair in thick towels, she opened the door. Lucy lay in the hallway, waiting for her. Morgan bent to give the dog a pat before she walked back to her room. Lucy followed her in.
As Lucian had said, there were clothes in the drawers for her. She pulled out a soft, deep burgundy t-shirt and a pair of dark gray sweats. She sighed with pure pleasure at the feel of clean clothes and underwear. Those two things were totally underappreciated in the world. And socks. Clean, new, soft socks. It was a little bit of heaven.
Morgan grabbed the brush off the dresser, it was in better condition than the one in her backpack, and spent the next half hour working it through the snarls in her long hair until the scent of food reminded her she hadn’t eaten in hours. After stopping by the bathroom to dig her cigarettes and lighter out of the pocket of her old clothes, she stuffed them in the pocket of her sweats and headed down the stairs with Lucy shadowing her.
THE SMELL OF breakfast drew Morgan toward the kitchen and the dining room connected to it. Lucian was in the proces
s of setting plates and napkins on the table. She looked at him in surprise. “You cooked?”
The warm timbre of his laugh brought a smile to her face even if she didn’t know what was funny. “No. If I tried to cook, there would be flames destroying the kitchen as we speak. I can babysit a grill for a while, just as long as I’m not left completely in charge of it.”
Morgan’s smile widened. “I can burn water. Together we may starve to death.”
“Nope, not in this day and age,” Lucian said and pointed at the counter on the far side of the kitchen island. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I picked up a little of everything while you were in the shower.”
A glance at the clock on the stove showed it was almost five in the morning. An assortment of bags from different fast food places covered the counter top. Morgan’s mouth watered. She tore her gaze away from the food and looked back at him. “You will find I’m the least picky eater in the world.”
“Good to know.” Lucian turned and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a couple of bags and said, “Have a seat.”
Morgan glanced at the chair then moved to help instead of sitting down. Two of the bags, laid flat like they held trays, teetered. She reached to grab them, her hands brushing his as she did so. Her skin burned where it touched his and she fumbled the two containers, nearly dropping them before recovering and setting them on the glossy wood of the tabletop. Unsettled, her eyes flashed to his and the heat she saw in his eyes mirrored that spreading through her body.
They stood for a moment, their gazes locked. A storm of unfamiliar emotions raged through Morgan. She didn’t know him, had never seen him before that day at the tower and yet there was something between them. Her soul wanted him. Not in a long-lost-lover kind of way, more of a found-at-last way. It sounded cheesy and scared the hell out of her at the same time.
Bound by Legend: A Bound Novel Page 8
