Stricken (The War Scrolls Book 1)

by A. K. Morgen

  And why not? She’d survived death twice when she shouldn’t have, first with the Halfling and then the fire. Maybe this was God’s way of punishing her for thwarting His grand design. She’d always believed she should have died instead of Aaron. He’d had the chance to become someone great. He had been so smart and compassionate, and he’d had a plan for his life, like their father. Together, they could have cured cancer, or AIDS, or any other number of diseases.

  She loved her job. She loved the brave kids with their bald heads and shy smiles. But she wasn’t her father or Aaron. She couldn’t cure those kids. All she could do was hold their hands and pray for a cure. One her father and Aaron could have found had they lived.

  Instead, she’d survived while they’d burned to death, leaving her to fill shoes too big for her.

  Arson.

  Killian had asked if Aaron or her father had any enemies. But he hadn’t asked if she did. She’d long believed the fire was her fault. That her father and Aaron had died in her place because of the Halfling who’d attacked her. She’d survived his torments, and her brother had helped take his life when all was said and done.

  What if he hadn’t been the only Halfling around, though?

  The thought made sense to her. It always had.

  She’d survived when she shouldn’t have, so someone had come back for her. Only, they’d found her father and her brother instead. They’d killed them and left her behind to live with the guilt. Could that be why the Elioud shifters and vampire had come after her? Not because her father had anything to do with the virus, but because her father’s murderer knew this would be their last chance to even the score? To kill her as they’d meant to three years ago?

  “God, when will this nightmare end?” she asked, staring down at Zee.

  He tilted his head to the side and mewled as if to tell her he didn’t know.

  “At least I have you, Zee.” She lifted the kitten and buried her face in his soft fur, inhaling a shaky breath. “You love me, right?”

  Zee wriggled in her grasp, squirming his way free. He jumped from the bed, stretched once more, and then darted across the room to the litter box someone had set up near the closet. As the kitten pawed the loose clay, flinging little pebbles from the box, someone knocked on the door.

  Aubrey whipped her head in its direction, her heart thumping painfully against her rib cage. “Come in,” she croaked, rubbing her eyes with her palms and scooting back against the headboard.

  Killian pushed his way into the room, a tray in hand. He’d changed clothing, jeans and a dark blue polo this time. His blond hair was wild, as though he’d run his hands through it. His gaze met hers.

  Bright blue sent butterflies into flight in her stomach again.

  A fleeting smile spread across his face and then vanished.

  “Good morning.” Aubrey jerked her gaze away from those beautiful eyes and the hesitation in them. Her cheeks burned.

  “Afternoon,” he corrected, hefting the tray. “You’ve been out for over twenty-four hours. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, dazed that she’d slept so long.

  “I brought you something to eat.” He moved gracefully like a dancer, his feet making barely a whisper of sound as he strolled toward her. For someone so big, so tall, he made little noise, period.

  Aubrey’s stomach rumbled as food smells wafted from the tray in his hands. He settled it on her lap and stepped back.

  “What is it?” She kept her gaze on the covered wooden tray.

  “Biscuits and gravy, eggs, and coffee.” He leaned down and whipped the lid off. “It’s not much, but you must be starving.”

  Her mouth watered at the sight of the feast heaped upon the plate in front of her. It was enough to feed her two or three times over. There was no way she could eat it all. “This is too much,” she said, glancing up at him. She avoided his eyes, focusing somewhere near his mouth instead.

  What would his lips feel like against her skin?

  Would they be fierce and unyielding or soft and pliable?

  Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

  She couldn’t afford to like him or to think of him like that.

  “It’s been a while since you ate.” He shrugged, seeming uncomfortable with that fact. “Dom thought more was a good idea. He might have gone overboard.”

  “Dom?” Aubrey picked up the fork. “How is he? Healing?”

  “He’s fine. Grumbling that I owe him a new shirt, in fact.” Killian rolled his eyes as if irritated—though, his smile gave him away. He cared about his brother, loved him.

  Aubrey took a bite of her eggs and nearly moaned at the taste. They were delicious. Or maybe she was starving. She’d eaten only once since meeting Killian.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.” Her cheeks burned.

  Killian strode away from her, the move sudden, terse. He set the lid of the tray on the chair but didn’t turn back around to face her. “You were exhausted.”

  Aubrey hesitated at his sudden agitation, another forkful of eggs nearly to her mouth. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted, spinning toward her. The guilty look on his face shocked her. “I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. You needed rest, not an inquisition.”

  “I’m a big girl, Killian. You’re not responsible for me.”

  “Aren’t I?” he asked and then shrugged. “Maybe not, but I shouldn’t have pushed like I did. You weren’t ready. I should not have been so careless.”

  “Ah,” she said, understanding dawning. She set the forkful of eggs back down on the plate. “Because I’m not Talented, I couldn’t possibly be expected to make my own decisions about what I can or can’t handle, right?”

  Growing up, Aaron had been the same way with her. He’d acted as though she couldn’t make a decision for herself. As though, because she was fully human, she was too fragile to know her limits. When she’d broken her ankle climbing a tree with him, he’d blamed himself. He’d done the same when she skinned her knees learning to skateboard and again when she’d fallen off her bicycle and split her head open. But those had been her choices then, and so was this.

  She could have refused to answer Killian’s questions about her father and the fire, but she hadn’t. He didn’t get to take the blame for that any more than Aaron got to take the blame when she’d gotten in over her head trying to keep up with him and his friends. She might not have been able to shift or kill anything with her bare hands, but she was responsible for her choices. No one else.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Isn’t it?” she asked.

  “No.” He ran a hand through his hair, scowling at her. “You’ve held up a lot better than most anyone would have, given the situation. I simply meant…” He sighed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know what I meant.”

  “I know,” Aubrey conceded, picking her fork up again. She didn’t want to argue with him, and maybe she’d never know strength like he possessed, but she wasn’t helpless. “I may not be able to heft a sword and kill things, but please don’t treat me like my decisions are not my own or as if you’re somehow responsible when I don’t deal well.”

  “You make that sound easy. Is it?” He crossed back to the bed and then perched at the foot, examining her face. There were shadows under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in a long time. Even his aura was dimmer, the soft gold color of his skin subdued. How long had it been since he’d rested?

  Zee meowed before racing across the room and leaping into Killian’s lap. The warrior looked down at the kitten and muttered something that sounded almost like spoiled hellcat. He reached down and scratched the kitten’s ears, though.

  Zee rumbled his appreciation.

  “Is what easy?” Aubrey asked, unsure what Killian meant.

  He continued to scratch Zee’s head, not answering. He could crush the kitten with one hand, but he petted him as thoug
h he knew exactly how firmly he could touch. Watching him, she was struck once more with how different he seemed from her attacker. Despite having no reason to help or trust her, he’d been nothing but kind to her.

  “Why are you helping me?” she asked, desperate to understand something in this entire waking nightmare. To understand why a Warrior of Light like him would pledge himself to a Talentless Elioud like her. Her people, the humans, didn’t even remember the Fallen. She doubted many would go out of their way to save them even had they known of their existence.

  “Because I promised I would.” He focused on the kitten in his lap, avoiding her gaze.

  “Why?” she asked again.

  “My mother was human,” he said after a long pause, “but I never knew her. She died giving birth to me long before the marvels of modern human medicine.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “My father could have saved her. A few drops of his blood and she would have survived. He let her die instead.” Killian glanced up from Zee, sorrow in his gaze. “I don’t know why I’m helping you, but I won’t dishonor her memory by making the same choice he did.”

  “You don’t want to be like him,” Aubrey whispered in understanding.

  He shrugged, turning back to Zee.

  Aubrey ate quietly as he petted Zee, trying to fit this new knowledge—to fit Killian—into place in her mind. She didn’t want to like him, but the more she learned about him, the more difficult holding on to that desire became. She couldn’t let it go, though, not entirely. If she walked that tightrope, God only knew where she’d land.

  Killian glanced up from the kitten when she set her fork on the empty plate. “We need to visit your father’s lab.”

  She had suspected as much, but pain still twisted her heart when he said the words. She hadn’t been back to Wisconsin since she’d fled. She should have known she couldn’t hide from her home forever, but she’d wanted to do exactly that. The thought of going back and facing the friends she’d abandoned terrified her. So did the possibility that her friends were all dead.

  “There may not be anything to find,” she said.

  “I know, but we need to look anyway.”

  “When do we have to go?”

  “We need to be sure there’s no further threat here before we leave. A week at most.” Killian’s lips turned up in a crooked, apologetic smile. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  “I know.” She’d known before she ever told him what she suspected that she’d probably have to go back with him and face the past. Didn’t make it any easier, though.

  “I’d like you to stay here until we leave. It’ll be safer for you.”

  “That’s fine,” Aubrey mumbled. She didn’t particularly want to go home, anyway. Not after the vampire.

  “You can keep my room.”

  “What about you?”

  Killian shrugged. “I’ll sleep in one of the other rooms. There are plenty.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she protested.

  “Trust me,” he said, smiling at her. “You’ll be far more comfortable in here.”

  Aubrey swallowed, not so sure that was true. “Thank you,” she whispered anyway.

  Chapter Ten

  “Wisconsin? I thought you never wanted to go back. How bad was your friend’s car accident? And when did you start talking with your friends back home? You never have before. Are you in trouble, Aubrey? Just say…oh, I don’t know, say ducks if you are. I’ll call the police for you; tell them you’ve been kidnapped. Where are you?”

  Aubrey paced across Killian’s living room, her cell phone clutched in her hand. Her aunt’s voice shook on the other end, words spilling from her lips in a breathless jumble.

  “Aunt Mel, I’m fine,” she said when Mel broke off to take a breath. “I haven’t been kidnapped, and I’m not being held hostage.”

  “Are you sure? I mean really sure, Aubrey? John called me, you know. He said your friend looked dangerous. Did you know him before? Is he in a biker gang or something?”

  Aubrey stopped pacing and pressed her forehead to the cool glass of the wall-length window, staring out into the backyard. There were no trees out there and few plants. The entire area had been covered in concrete, with uncomfortable-looking benches and target boards lining each side of the lot. It appeared cold and uninviting to her.

  “Aubrey?”

  “I’m sure, Aunt Mel,” she said, closing her eyes. “Killian has been good to me. He’s helping me.”

  Mel didn’t speak for a moment and then said, “I didn’t even know you had a Killian in your life.” She sounded hurt.

  “He’s only here temporarily. He’s a part of my past, nothing more.” She hadn’t lied, not exactly. Killian was part of her past in a roundabout way. A present reminder of a past she’d like to forget. She didn’t have the energy to explain that to Mel, though.

  “There wasn’t a car accident, was there? You’re going back to deal with what happened, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Aubrey cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the painful lump forming there. “I need to face it, or I’ll never get past it.” She didn’t want to, but what choice did she have? If going back could save people, she had a moral obligation to do so.

  “Are you sure you’re ready? You never even talk about it.”

  “I’m not sure,” Aubrey admitted. “But I have to do it.”

  Mel’s quiet sigh sounded like static distorting the line. “You’re coming back, though, right?”

  “Yes, I’m coming back.”

  “You’re sure you don’t need company? You know I’ll fly back if you need me. God knows, Spain ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  Aubrey smiled as her aunt slipped into the Southern contraction she professed to hate with a fiery passion. “I’m sure, but I love you for offering.”

  “You’ll call me? Who’s taking care of Zee?”

  “I’m taking him with me, and yes, I’ll call you. Twice a day if it makes you feel better.”

  “It does. Call three times. Should I try to talk you out of this?”

  “Not this time.”

  “Then I won’t try.” Mel sighed. “But you call me if you need me, you understand? I’ll be on the next plane back as soon as you say the words.”

  Aubrey closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting not to cry. “Love you, Aunt Mel.”

  “Forever and a day, hon,” Mel replied on cue. “Kiss Zee for me. And tell this Killian if anything happens to you, I will make his life a living hell.”

  “I will.” Aubrey held the phone to her ear for a moment longer and then hung up. Her heart ached, but what else was new? She sighed and opened her eyes, staring out the window again.

  “You okay?”

  Aubrey jumped, spinning around.

  “Sorry.” Dom grimaced, holding up his hands. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I didn’t hear you come in.” Aubrey shook her head at the warrior leaning against the far wall. He was even larger than Killian if that were possible. Even with his tattoos, Dahmiel didn’t appear nearly as imposing as his Halfling brother, though. In a way, he reminded her of Aaron. Kindness and mischief lurked behind his bright angel eyes, his love of life evident in the smile lines around his mouth.

  “I’m like a cat.” Dom grinned.

  Aubrey laughed a little at the goofy expression on his face. “More like a giant tiger.”

  “They’re grrrreat!” Dom deadpanned.

  Aubrey couldn’t help the bright smile that spread across her face at his ridiculous Tony the Tiger impression. Dom appeared more overgrown child than deadly Fallen warrior. Unlike his brother, he put her at ease, made her feel comfortable. The more time she spent with Killian, the more keyed up and nervous she became. He made her feel safe, protected, and that made her nervous. So did the way her heart rate always kicked up a notch when he was near. She felt drawn to him in some weird way, and that terrified her.

  “Seriously,”
Dom said, sobering, “are you okay?”

  Was she okay?

  “I don’t know.” She hesitated, torn between confessing to the things clouding her mind and keeping them to herself. But that’s what she always did, wasn’t it? Bottled things up instead of talking? Hadn’t exactly worked in her favor thus far. “You’ve lived for hundreds of years. Does life ever get easier?”

  Dom pushed away from the wall and moved across the room toward her. “When Fallen younglings start their warrior training, the first thing they learn is a piece of Fallen wisdom. Perfer et obdura. Dolor hic tibi proderit olim.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “Be patient and tough. Someday, this pain will be useful to you.” Dom stopped a few feet from her and smiled. “No one, not even the Fallen, likes to hurt. But sometimes, pain is what shapes us into who we are and gives us the tools that help us find who we need to be. Humans get so caught up in how they wish things were they forget to appreciate the experiences that make them who they are.”

  “It’s hard to appreciate who we are sometimes,” Aubrey said. “It’s hard to look to the future when your past hangs like storm clouds overhead.”

  “History can be oppressive,” Dom said, propping himself up on the back of the sofa. “The Fallen know this well. We have several millennia of history hanging over our heads, but we accept it.”

  “Why?” She shook her head, thinking over the Fallen history and her earlier questions to Killian about why the Fallen continued to atone for their sins. “Your people have punished themselves for so long. When does your debt to us end?”

  “I don’t know.” Dahmiel held his hands up, shrugging. “Facing the past and owning up to the mistakes we made is the only way to unburden our future. Our people were prideful and self-serving. We put honor aside, too blinded by demon trickery to realize the depths of our depravity. Until our people regain honor, our futures remain burdened, weighted with the bodies of the thousands of your people who died because of our sins. We face the past to remember those who deserve remembrance and to lay to rest the ghosts of those who do not.”