Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy

by DelSheree Gladden

  Braden looks at me oddly, but he saw Jen when I did and doesn’t say anything.

  What I think are Jimmy Choo stilettos click along the hall, announcing Jen’s presence if her bouncing hair and flamingo pink dress didn’t do that well enough on their own. She’s carrying a clutch in her hand that no doubt is equipped with one, if not several, recording devices. The sight of her smiling like everything in the world is gumdrops and lollipops makes me want to slap her. There is only one reason I invited her. To instantly blog anything that the Guardians might try to do tonight. I’m hopeful everything will go off without a hitch, but I’ve learned not to be too optimistic.

  “So,” Jen says, flicking her eyes up and down Braden’s body, “this is your new boy toy. Going through them pretty fast now a days, aren’t we? Lance, Milo, now this one. What’s your name again? I didn’t get to meet you properly when I was a guest here a few weeks ago.”

  She extends her hand to Braden, and he politely takes it. “I’m surprised you don’t already know who I am, given what I’ve heard about you, Jen.”

  Her laugh irritates me almost enough to act on it. “I was just being polite, Braden,” she says. “And I know a lot more about you than just your name. For instance, I know you grew up in Rio Rancho, lost you parents and brother, though not all at the same time, where inducted into the Guardians the day you turned eighteen—before you even graduated high school, which is impressive—and served as a Cipher hunter for three years after spending your first year with the Guardians training in Brazil for a special forces position you later turned down. Why you turned it down, well that’s a mystery even to me. Care to remedy that?”

  “Not even a little,” Braden says, still smiling politely. Maybe Jen thought she was going to embarrass him, or say something I didn’t already know that would upset me, but she huffs irritably at our mutual unimpressed expressions.

  “Well, you’re no fun at all,” Jen quips.

  “Sorry to disappoint.” He smiles winningly just to show her how not sorry he really is and turns back to me. “Unless you need me, I’m going to go deliver these quiches to the ballroom.”

  He hesitates long enough for me to shake my head before kissing me chastely on my cheek and ducking away. I’m not afraid of Jen, but I do watch him walk away wishing he was still next to me. Jen watches too, for different reasons entirely. “I never got what you saw in Milo, he was way too moody for my tastes, but Braden is positively luscious,” Jen says when she turns back to me.

  I just glare at her and fold my arms over my chest. “What do you want, Jen?”

  “Just to talk,” she says. I don’t buy it. Sighing, she opens her clutch and flicks off the digital recorder I knew was there. She holds it up so I can clearly see the red indicator light is off and drops it back in her bag. “I know you only invited me to make sure I blog whatever might or might not happen tonight in regards to the Guardians, but I’m still glad you invited me. I wanted to talk to you last time, but you knocked me unconscious before I could. Thanks for that, by the way.”

  “Don’t walk in on a kidnapping and you won’t get hit,” I say.

  She nods reluctantly. “Still, you didn’t have to hit me so hard.”

  I shrug, no sympathy at all. Jen scowls at me.

  “Come one, Libby. I passed your kidnapping off as a rescue like Lance wanted. You know I hate lying when I report. Doesn’t that make any difference with you?”

  “I don’t know your motives for going along with the story, Jen. And do you honestly expect me to forgive you for the photos? You had no right to do that.”

  Jen cocks her head to one side in confusion. “The photos?”

  “The ones you sent to that idiot, Blackwood. Me and Braden. Ring a bell?” I snap.

  “You’re mad about that?” Jen scoffs. “Libby, I was trying to protect you!”

  You’ve got to be kidding me. “How was that protecting me? You nearly got us both in a lot of trouble.”

  “I thought … well, I’d noticed how he followed you, and I overheard some of the things he said to you.”

  A faint blush creeps into my cheeks. What exactly did she hear him say?

  “I also saw how you tried to avoid him,” Jen admits. “I thought Braden was up to something. Manipulating you maybe. I’d heard by that point how much you were struggling with your Spiritualism. I got scared when I saw you with Braden that day acting so happy. I was wrong, obviously, but I thought he’d screwed with your head, so I took the pictures and sent them to the compound hoping they would get rid of Braden and get him away from you.”

  For a moment, I don’t know what to say. I don’t doubt anything she’s saying, but it still surprises me. She’s not off the hook, yet. “What about my mom?” I ask quietly.

  “Why have I been hanging out with her?”

  I nod. Jen shrugs.

  “Because she’s the best Concealor I know, and I knew that if I had any chance of being able to help you I needed her to teach me. I’ve hated every minute of it, but even you have to admit she knows how to get what she wants out of people better than anyone.”

  Very true. “You’re not working for her, then?”

  Jen shudders. “Give me some credit, Libby. Sure, I gave her bits of gossip I heard, but only unimportant stuff that wouldn’t get anyone hurt. I only did that so she would keep teaching me. I haven’t seen your mom in months.”

  “Really?”

  “I’ve been too busy trying to make you look good to deal with her,” she says with a smile. “You’re a full time job, Libby.”

  She doesn’t know the half of it. Finally my combative side mellows. “Why did you really come here tonight?”

  “I … I’ve missed talking to you, Libby. I’ve missed talking to anyone, actually. Nobody wants to be friends with me because they’re all afraid I’ll write stuff about them,” she says.

  I don’t admit it, but I feel a pang of sympathy for her. I know what being alone feels like, and I know that despite Jen’s aggressive nature, she doesn’t lie or write unsubstantiated gossip. She wouldn’t tell things about a friend unless it was honestly something important. Not even when it comes to me. Braden told me she caught him in my room when I was unconscious. She knows he’s twenty-three, and even though we aren’t sleeping together, it wouldn’t be hard for someone to make that assumption and put it in print. My relationship with Braden has made zero appearances on Jen’s blog.

  “You never had to stop talking to me, Jen. That was your choice,” I remind her.

  “I know, Libby. I’m sorry.”

  No excuses. No, my Guardian parents scared me into ditching you. Just an apology. That’s what I’ve always loved about her. If she makes a mistake, she owns up to it and takes the consequences willingly.

  Jen frowns and says, “I wanted to warn you about something, too.”

  “What?”

  “Your friend, Milo. I saw him talking to this really scary looking guy in the parking lot last week after the kidnapping. At first, Milo looked angry. I think he might have taken a swing at the guy, even. Whatever the guy said, it calmed Milo down. I don’t know who he was, but Milo drove off with him.”

  “You didn’t get a picture of this guy?” I ask.

  “No, I couldn’t dig my phone out of my bag fast enough, but I didn’t post anything about it, either.”

  It’s a peace offering of sorts. She could have blogged about this meeting and even painted it as something sinister without knowing what it really was, but she didn’t. She gave it to me, instead. I still don’t trust her completely, and I don’t know if I ever will, but the last of my hostility softens. I motion for her to walk with me back to the ballroom. Jen smiles, and the girl I know so well comes rearing back to life.

  “So, tell me about Braden. I’ve always wanted to date an older guy. He’s hot and sweet. It was so cute when he kissed you on the cheek. You’ll never guess who asked me out the other day. Lloyd Sanchez. Yeah, it was totally bizarre because he’s never even spok
en to me before, and I haven’t been real popular lately, like I said, but he’s mega dreamy so I said yes. It was awesome. We …”

  In true Jen fashion, she keeps talking all the way to the ballroom where the music finally drowns her out. The sight of so many people in the room, Ciphers in from out of town that Lance has become friends with and a surprising amount of people from school, momentarily shocks Jen. It doesn’t last long enough. She starts talking again despite the blaring music. It’s mostly just her talking at first, but after a while, I can’t resist any longer and join in. I don’t talk about anything that could get me in trouble, but for a few hours I feel like we’re back at a school dance, dishing about anything and everything like we used to before my Inquest turned everything upside down.

  Braden slips into the chair next to me at some point during our conversation. He doesn’t interrupt. He sits through our chit chat looking rather amused, actually. This isn’t something he’s ever seen me do before. I worry that it might make me look childish to him, but his hand only tightens around mine. There are so many emotions in the room that I don’t dare let down my shield for fear of being completely overwhelmed, but I wish I knew what he was thinking. When Jen excuses herself to refill her drink, Braden leans in and answers my question.

  “It’s nice to see you so happy.”

  “I have to be careful of what I say to her, but it is nice to talk to Jen again. I’ve missed her,” I say.

  Braden smiles. “I’m glad you’ve made up, even if it is only conditionally.” He leans in and kisses me. “Have I told you how great you look tonight?”

  “Not in so many words,” I say.

  His grin widens. “Can I steal you away from Jen for a dance?”

  “Absolutely.” I’m out of my chair in an instant, pulling him toward the dance floor.

  Braden’s arms fold around me and I rest my head against his chest. Slowly the music drifts out of my hearing and is replaced by the beating of Braden’s heart. I close my eyes and listen. I don’t think there is a more beautiful sound in the word. When the song ends and the music changes to something more upbeat, it’s hard not to be disappointed. Almost immediately, though, the music quiets and the DJ announces that the birthday boy has a special treat for us. Braden spins toward the center of the dance floor where everyone is quickly forming a circle.

  “Come on,” he says excitedly as he tows me to the edge of the circle, “you’re not going to want to miss this.”

  “Miss what? What’s going on?”

  “Just come on,” he says.

  We reach the edge of the circle and I find myself staring at Lance and Hope. They both look rather keyed up, but by the way they’re just standing in the middle of the circle facing each other I’m at a loss for why. They don’t have any shoes or socks on. That’s odd. The DJ introduces them both and ramps the music back up to full volume. It’s a sultry sound that seeps into my bones in the first few seconds. Even more interesting is the way Hope and Lance start moving back and forth, swaying in a way that promises something very interesting. The whole crowd is mesmerized.

  Their movements start growing bigger, more fluid and meaningful. First it’s their arms that circle and glide in and out, and then their feet join in. It looks like they’re going to fight each other, but it’s a fighting style I’ve never seen before. The beauty of it is more like a dance than anything else. They start moving back and forth across the circle as if they were warming up. Hope’s change in outfit starts to make sense as she circles her leg in a wide arc across the floor and brings her knee to her chest in perfect balance. When they start circling back toward each other, everyone watching leans forward eagerly, their anticipation dousing the room.

  Hope engages first, her leg kicking out gracefully at Lance’s head. He ducks with perfect timing and her foot sails over him and lands in time with the music. Back and forth they go, taking shots, but not ever landing one. It is sinuous and fluid, captivating. I can’t even take my eyes off of them to ask Braden a question.

  “What is this? What are they doing?”

  Braden pulls me against him and leans close to my ear. “It’s called Capoeria, a Brazilian form of martial arts.”

  “Martial arts? It looks more like a dance.”

  “It is a dance,” he says. “It was created by slaves in Brazil. They combined many different tribal fighting styles into something completely new. In order to continue practicing Capoeira without others knowing—especially after it was banned in the country—it was taught under the guise of being a folk dance. It’s difficult to learn, but amazing to watch.”

  Braden did his Guardian training in Brazil. Connections begin to form in my slower than usual mind. “You taught them how to do this?”

  “I did.”

  What I wouldn’t give to see Braden out there, especially before I stole his talents. Braden glances at his watch, which I find odd, then looks back at the dancing pair anxiously. It startles everyone in the crowd when Hope finally makes contact with Lance, sweeping his leg out from under him. He lands as if expecting the attack, but pain radiates through his body a second later. I step forward, afraid he’s been hurt for real, but Braden holds me back. I try to pull away, but he holds his wrist up so I can see his watch. 10:17 p.m. My eyes snap back to Lance.

  Pain ripples through him again and his diktats flare scarlet. That seems to be Hope’s cue to exit. Nobody is watching her as she steps away from Lance, but me. It surprises me that she slips in next to Braden and gives him a little shove toward the floor. I look up at him in surprise. He just grins back at me and slips off his dress shoes and socks. My heart stutters as I realize he’s going out to spar with Lance. With Lance, whose talents have just been fully unlocked. Braden has no talents. At all. Panic pushes me forward. What is he thinking? Hope is there to grab my arm and pull me back.

  “Just watch,” she says.

  So I do. It’s all I can do. Lance kips back up to his feet grinning like none other. That gorgeous idiot, Braden, urges him forward. The eager tension sizzling between them makes me groan. “This isn’t going to be the dance version of this, is it?” I ask Hope.

  “This is going to be awesome,” she gushes. I just roll my eyes. She’s as bad as they are.

  I look back at the circle and gasp when they speed toward each other. The desire to cover my eyes grips me as the first kick lands, Braden’s foot to Lance’s thigh, but the same morbid curiosity that makes people stare at car crashes keeps me from hiding. One after another, their bodies twist and pull, sending arms and legs out in lightning fast attacks. Lance is amazing. He’s everything I ever hoped he would be, graceful and powerful to the point it almost makes a person cry. What’s really amazing, though, is Braden. I have no idea how, but he is actually keeping up. It’s nothing like what he used to be able to do with his talents, but he counters almost every attack Lance throws at him and even gets a few solid hits in himself. I have wondered if both Lance and Braden had fully unlocked talents which one would be more powerful. If this is Braden talent-free, well, I’m pretty sure I have my answer. Lance wouldn’t stand a chance.

  The raging music starts to slow as the pair begins to tire. The fight turns back into the dance. Their frenzy slows to a rhythmic hum. In perfect time with each other, their bodies come to a rest. There is a moment of silence before the room erupts into applause and cheering. Hope is the first to dash into the circle. She flings herself into Lance’s arms and kisses him with enough passion for two people. I laugh and clap for the kiss just as much as the performance. Lance should have figured combat would be the way to Hope’s heart. Although, from the grateful nod he gives to Braden when Hope finally lets him up to breath, maybe he did figure that out.

  Deciding it would be best to congratulate Lance later, I search the collapsing ring for Braden. He pops up next to me and sweeps me into his arms. He’s sweaty and panting from the fight, but that doesn’t stop me from kissing him fiercely. “That was incredible,” I say. “How did you do that?�
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  “That’s what I spent a lot of time doing in Brazil.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “I figured that. I mean how did you do that, how did you keep up with Lance without talents? You were so fast!”

  “Aren’t you the one who said I could still do anything I wanted?”

  “Well, yeah, but …”

  “Libby! Libby!” Jen calls out as she rushes up to me. “I ran into Lloyd before the fight. Can you believe he came? And anyway, we went out onto the balcony, and you’ll never believe who I saw pull up. Milo! And he had the creepy, mean-looking guy with him. They’re coming inside!”

  Chapter 28

  The Right One

  I grab at Braden and yank him toward Lance and Hope. Braden is asking me what’s going on, but I don’t have time to stop and explain. I have to get to Lance and Hope if we have any chance of making a stand. I almost reach them when Milo’s voice carries across the room.

  “That was impressive, guys. Really.”

  His mocking applause silences whatever noise remained. He starts descending the steps into the ballroom with a cavalier swagger that instantly strikes me as wrong. Sensing the importance of his interruption, the crowd steps out of his way. My people begin closing in. I keep edging my way closer to Lance and Hope. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Celia doing the same thing, her eyes wide. Jen is on the other side of us, phone out, filming everything. Milo reaches the bottom of the stairs just as I slide in beside Lance.

  “You know, you would think the Destroyer would have more important things to do than throw parties and play fight for her friends’ entertainment,” Milo says.

  He’s trying to bait me into an argument, but I don’t accept. Milo threw his fit about the party days ago. That fight is over and done with. Braden tenses behind me. I can feel his confusion slowly giving way to suspicion. I keep a careful grip on Braden’s hand and scowl at Milo.