The Order (Nightwalkers Book 8)

by Candace Wondrak

  The Devil. If I thought it enough, maybe I would begin to accept it. I must’ve already accepted it to some extent, because I was distant and cold, and because I’d burned Kass without even thinking about it. I didn’t want her touching me; it wasn’t as if I purposefully did so. It was an action I could not take back, and I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. She had to learn I wasn’t hers anymore. I wanted nothing to do with her. If I didn’t let the world burn, I…

  Memories erupted in my head, forcing me to recall things I had no wish to. Kass, crying in the backseat after Koath left her with us to return to England. The way her eyes crinkle when she’s forcing out a frown and trying not to smile. Me, calling her my dear raccoon in the mornings, when she was likely to attack me if I gave her so little as the wrong look. Kass, covered in blood, a blank look on her face as she sat on the stairwell while Koath’s dead body laid eight feet away in the kitchen. How many times we’d spent the nights in each other’s beds, holding on for dear life.

  I didn’t want to forget those memories, even if I wanted nothing to do with Kass now. Those memories were all I had, the only thing separating me from him. Without the memories of this life, I was no better than the original me.

  Did I want to be better? It was hard to say, even harder to claim I did when I also wanted the world to burn.

  I tore my gaze from the window, sitting on the edge of my bed. The truth of it was I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know what I wanted to be, what I wanted to do, whether I would help the world end or stop it. It was too much to think about. I squeezed my eyes close, stifling a moan. I hated this.

  A knock on my door took me from my thoughts, and I hissed, “What?” Even my voice sounded different, more serious, less joyful and sarcastic. I hardly felt like myself.

  Max poked his head in, a finger working to slide his glasses farther up his nose. “Do you want any dinner?”

  At the mere mention of food, my stomach growled. I did want to eat; I just didn’t want to eat with everyone else. Specifically, I didn’t want to eat with Kass. I didn’t even want to look at her. It would only upset me more.

  “No,” I said, even though it was the last thing I wanted. I might’ve felt indifferent and ambivalent toward a lot of things right now, but food? I could always pack away more food.

  Instead of leaving, Max fully entered my room, gently closing the door with his back. He was like the nerdy cousin who just couldn’t take the hint I didn’t want to play with him. Or, that’s what I assumed he was like, because I never had cousins. I might not even have had parents. Koath and his wife had just found me in an orphanage.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Just peachy, thanks.”

  “What happened when you were in that coma?” Max moved so he stood in front of me, his arms crossed. In the twilight, his red hair seemed to glow like dull fire. “What you did a few hours ago, the things you said—” He paused, shaking his head. “—this? It’s not you.”

  “You don’t know me,” I muttered. It was the truth. He hadn’t been in my life for that long. He was a stranger to me basically, just another Purifier the Council reassigned after his last Guardian bit the dust. We had nothing in common. We weren’t friends.

  Max didn’t argue with me. He said, “Maybe not, but I have spent a lot of time with you and Kass.”

  “You spent a lot of time with Michael, too,” I told him, shooting him a glare. “Did you know him well enough? Did you know he was hiding from us all along? What don’t you know, Max?”

  He didn’t flinch at my acid-laced words. “I don’t know why you’re acting like a brooding narcissist whose only concern is himself and how he feels. I don’t know what happened to make you act this way. And—” His voice rose in pitch. “—I don’t know why you would hurt Kass. No matter what’s going on in your head, you know she cares for you. We all do. I’m not thrilled about having Crixis here either, but for the moment at least, he’s not trying to kill us.”

  “Oh, then we can just invite him to join our friendship circle.”

  Max was thoroughly unimpressed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “Do I? Right now, all I know is you’re pissing me off, Max,” I breathed out, standing. I moved closer to him, staring down at him, fury in my eyes. He was on the shorter side for a guy. “Get out, and don’t come back.”

  He went around me, towards the door. “I’ll get out of your room, but I won’t leave this house. Whatever fight this is, it’s mine, too.” Max studied me for a few seconds before leaving me alone, slamming the door behind him.

  Whatever. I didn’t care if I upset him. He wasn’t my friend, and he never would be. He was useless.

  Something strange in my peripherals caught my attention, and I flicked my gaze to the window. My reflection was hazy, but one thing was clear: the two wisps of red smoke seeping from my eyes.

  Chapter Six - Kass

  I didn’t eat the pizza Max and Claire bought after they came home with the wood to fix the windows. Okay, not so much fix as it was used to just cover it up, but it would do. Either way, I didn’t really care. There could be a gaping hole in every single wall of this house and I wouldn’t care a single bit.

  I sat in my room, clothes thrown on the floor, makeup everywhere. I heard Liz talking on the phone earlier, knew she was calling them about Michael, about what we had to do about him, what the procedure for something like this was, but again, I didn’t care.

  Claire sat on the window seat, watching me fiddle around with my makeup. I had it caked on a bit more than I usually did, but she didn’t say anything. I also did most of it without a mirror, so I could only imagine how good it looked. My hand was nearly healed by now, the bandage off and somewhere on the floor. It still looked a little pink and extra puffy. Time would take care of it soon enough. I didn’t want to think about how close Gabriel was across the hall. It hurt too much to remember how he sneered down at me, what he said…

  “Your life is so messed up,” Claire said, jerking me from my thoughts.

  I managed a chuckle, though it was on the dry side. “I know,” I spoke softly, sadly. “It’s so fun being me. You should try it, sometime.”

  “I’d rather not.” She shook her head. “I just can’t believe I thought my life was crazy. You—everything you’ve dragged me into—makes my life look like a piece of cake.” I knew she was trying to comfort me, tell me how strong I was, blah, blah, blah. But a part of me shook it off, shook her words off.

  I didn’t feel strong. Right now, I didn’t want to be strong. I wanted to give up. It seemed like it never ended, and I was tired of it. Why couldn’t I just have some time to breathe before the next pile of crap hit the fan? Why couldn’t I think about the homecoming dance, which was coming up, without also thinking of what I’d do if Michael came for me again? Constantly fighting for your life was beyond tiring. It was hard.

  My jaw clamped shut, and I started to pick up the makeup scattered across my bed. Some of it leaked and smeared onto my comforter, but I didn’t care. “I’m so unlucky,” I finally said with a sigh.

  “You are not.” Claire was at my side the next moment, hugging me. I tensed in her grip; I only wanted to be hugged by one person, and he was clear in his feelings toward me downstairs. I could never touch him again.

  “I am,” I swore, too tired to lean out of the hug. “The unluckiest person alive. You’d think I’d be super lucky, since I’m…” I quieted, biting the inside of my cheek. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if what Crixis said was true.

  My mother was an Angel. Ethereal, beautiful, heavenly. In the few times I’d seen her, when she’d appeared to me, I supposed she did seem Angel-like, but me? I was nowhere near as flawless as her, nowhere near as pretty. Demons flocked to me like I was a fire, like…like I was the light to their darkness.

  I sighed. “Can I tell you something?”

  Claire nodded, slowly releasing me from the hug. “Of course.”

  “You pr
omise you won’t tell?”

  Her blue gaze was somber as she said, “I promise.”

  “I…I think I’m part Angel.”

  She blinked at me. “What?”

  “My mother,” I explained quickly, “she’s come to be before, a few times, told me I was going to die. They weren’t dreams or hallucinations. She was really here with me, right in the backyard.” I pointed to the window. “I never put it together until…” Well, until Crixis, but I couldn’t give him the credit.

  “I’m sure there’s another explanation for what you are,” Claire spoke, meaning the pull she felt to me, the same pull all Demonkind felt.

  “When I died,” I spoke firmly, meeting her eyes, “I woke up in a place of white. What if…what if I was close to heaven?” But if it were true, I realized with horror, why was I sent back? My life hadn’t gotten any better since then.

  Why?

  “A lot of people who have near-death experiences say they see light.”

  “I didn’t just see it. I was there. I walked around. I hugged my dad.” I bit back the emotion that rose when I spoke of Koath. “Crixis told me he hunted my mother because she had the same pull towards her I do.” I told her about the reverse-aging and the floating, and lastly the disappearing into light.

  Claire shook her head. “He was probably lying to you.”

  “But what if he wasn’t? What if…” My eyes widened. “What if I’m supposed to fight him?” I couldn’t get any more descriptive. I couldn’t say it aloud. Just the thought of being sent back, coming back to life, only to fight Gabriel, was the worst thought I had in a while.

  If Gabriel never went back to himself, if he stayed this way, if—I hazarded the thought—he tried to end the world, would I stop him? Could I? I wouldn’t let this world fall like the other. I couldn’t let millions of people die. I would have to stop him. I would have to stop Gabriel.

  “Kass,” Claire spoke, knocking shoulders with me. “I think you’re overthinking it.”

  I wasn’t too sure about that. I thought I was thinking about it just the right amount. Giving her a look, I said, “And if I’m not? If—” A soft knock on the door caused me to stop, watching as Liz slipped through.

  “We have a problem,” she said, looking glum. Bags rested under her eyes, and she breathed a sigh. “I told the others. You should probably sit down.” Claire and I looked at each other. “Right. You’re already sitting. Well, then, I’ll just come out and say it. Michael didn’t act alone.”

  My eyebrows furrowed. “Pretty sure he was the only one who tried to kill me—that time,” I added.

  “Yes, but there’ve been numerous reports of Guardians leaving their posts. They…took their Purifiers.”

  At least they didn’t try to kill them.

  Liz swiped at her hair. “Some of them…the Council fears for their safety. Yours was not an isolated incident. It started a few days ago. I believe the Order has infiltrated the Council—” The way she spoke the word Order, like we should automatically understand who she meant, ticked me off.

  “Order? What Order?” Claire had me covered. On a normal day, Liz would never talk like this in front of a civilian, especially one who was not quite human, but today was nobody’s good, normal day.

  “The Templar Order, or Knights Templar, depending on who you ask.”

  I wracked my brain trying to remember. I knew I’d heard of Templars before, but I didn’t know where. History wasn’t my best subject.

  “They were disbanded over seven hundred years ago. They purified the lands from all sin and Demonkind before the rise of the Council and the first Purifier. They were religious and holy fanatics, obsessed with spreading Christianity. They were not a friendly sort.”

  Clearly.

  “The Order, huh?” I spoke through grit teeth. “Do we know what they want?”

  “Collectively, no. Michael wants you out of the picture, though. I fear…” Liz trailed off, tossing a glimpse over her shoulder, as if Gabriel was behind her. “…it has something to do with Gabriel.” She came up to me, reaching for my hand. When she saw it was mostly healed, she released it. “If he is…more than what he appears to be, the Order will want him, as will the Council.”

  Handing Gabriel over to either of them—even if he was mean and cruel—was not an option, which Liz understood, judging from the expression on her face.

  I felt my will harden. “The Order won’t get him, and once we take care of them, we’ll go after the Council next.”

  “Go after?” Liz echoed. “There will be no going after anyone, especially the Council. They are the reason you’re here, don’t forget.”

  My fists clenched, and I slid off my bed, away from Liz and Claire. Arms shaking at my sides, I said quickly, “No, they aren’t. I’m the reason I’m here. Gabriel and Koath are the reason I’m here. The Council? Don’t make me laugh. They’re the reason I risk my life on a daily basis. They would have me purify Claire!” And if there was a part of me that wasn’t human, they might want me dead as well. “They aren’t the leaders you think they are.”

  “They fed you, clothed you—” Liz spoke, ignoring the confused and startled what? from Claire. “They provided everything for you.”

  “And all they ask is my life in return,” I said. “And my death. And, Liz, you know what? They had it. I died for them. I will not live and die for them again.”

  “Claire,” Liz paused, “can you give us a minute?”

  Claire pursed her lips, still not over the purify Claire bit, not that I could blame her for it. I wouldn’t get over hearing something like that either. She swung her legs off the bed, starting for the door, and she said, “It’s getting late anyway. I should go home. Steven’s been texting me nonstop.”

  I watched her leave, carefully closing the door behind her. How stupid. Whatever Liz could say, she could say in front of Claire.

  “Just because Gabriel is acting out doesn’t mean you get to do the same,” she told me, sounding—ick—like a mother. “You do not get to throw tantrums simply because you bloody feel like it!”

  A tantrum? This wasn’t a tantrum. Everything I did when I thought I’d killed John was a tantrum. Going after Raphael even though I knew he wasn’t the one who killed Koath was a tantrum. This? This was not the same. This wasn’t even close to being the same.

  I felt so mad. So angry. I wanted to hit something, to purify something, to scream and scream, letting it all out. As I stared at Liz, at her crispness, at her cute hairdo and her muscle-free arms, I realized she was always the one behind the desk. She was the one Michael called when we needed to organize a cleanup. Her hands had no blood, Demon or not, on them. Not like mine. Mine were covered in blood. Demon blood, human blood, my blood.

  Liz didn’t understand, because she couldn’t. She only read the reports; she didn’t live what we Purifiers lived through on a daily basis. She was like the CEO of any company, the lord of the serfdom, the queen of the land. I was just a minimum wage, part time employee, a serf, slaving away in service to another, a peasant whose life didn’t matter in the long run.

  I knew what I had to do, what I had to say, and I also knew Liz wouldn’t accept it. No one in the Council would, because no Purifier had ever done it, because they hadn’t lived long enough to.

  Me? I’d died. I’d already given them my first life and death. They weren’t going to get the second and final set.

  “This isn’t a tantrum,” I spoke, my voice calm and low. I stared at her squarely in the eyes as I inhaled a beat. “This is my resignation.”

  Chapter Seven - Kass

  Liz stared at me, mouth agape, like I suddenly sprouted wings or grew a third eye in the center of my forehead. She started to shake her head, but she soon found she couldn’t even do that, so she stammered, “You—you can’t resign! Being a Purifier is not a—”

  “It’s not a what?” I egged her on. “Not a job? Only a responsibility? Not something I can walk away from? Liz, you must not know me very well,
because you haven’t seen how fast I can walk away.”

  “You were gifted so many things, things others would love to have.”

  “What exactly do you think being a Purifier is? What do you think we do? Do you think it’s easy and fun? I wasn’t gifted anything. Koath, my dad, made the decision for me. I didn’t ask for this, and I sure am tired of holding up the world on my shoulders.”

  Liz wouldn’t take it for what it was. She shook her head, saying, “I’m sorry, Kass, but you can’t resign. There is nothing to resign from. You will always be a Purifier.”

  I laughed. “No. I’ll always be white. I’ll always have green eyes. I don’t have to be a Purifier. I don’t have to purify anything.”

  “You will be assigned a new Guardian, and—”

  “I won’t be here when he gets here. I’ll be long gone by then.”

  “You would really leave? In the middle of this? After Michael tried to…” Liz’s eyes grew watery, tears slipping down her face. “Weren’t you raised better than that?”

  I gave her a weird look. What did she think, that we were raised like normal kids? That our childhoods were full of fun and meaningless play? We weren’t raised; we were taught. I knew how to purify a Nightwalker since I was seven years old. What part of that meant I was raised at all? Koath did what he had to.

  My mind thought back to Crixis, what he said.

  “I’m not going to leave now,” I told her once I calmed myself down somewhat. “I’ll handle Michael, and I’m going to do it without waiting seven billion years to hear what the Council says we should do.” I left it at that. If Gabriel never returned to normal, there was nothing here for me anyways. Not really. Max and Claire, they were nice, but they weren’t Gabriel.

  No one could compare to Gabriel.

  “And how do you plan on handling Michael?” Liz crossed her arms, trying to look tough. She couldn’t look less tough if she tried. “He is a man, not a Demon. You cannot—”

  “Kill him? The exact same thing he tried to do to me?”