Fated

by T. L. McDonald

  Owen grabs ahold of my arm. "Are you doing this?"

  "Yeah." On my wrist the symbol glows, it's soft blue light piercing through the layers of smoke.

  When the water reaches the bar, I let it fall where it extinguishes the flames licking away at the surface. With the fire out, I expect to see Kat climbing over the top, but I don't see her at all. "Kat?"

  Owen and I exchange a look before we both bolt toward the bar. The surface is still hot but not unbearable. I climb onto the top peering over the edge. On the floor Kat is huddled in a ball, her body unmoving.

  "I think she's unconscious." Jumping to the floor, I scramble to her side. Placing one hand on her head and one on her chest, I close my eyes focusing everything I've got into helping her. Her chest raises, the feel of her breathing more normal considering where we currently are. I open my eyes just as she's opening hers.

  "Hanna?" Her voice is hoarse, her lips a slight blue. She's inhaled too much smoke and needs more healing, but for now this will have to do until I can get her out of here.

  I throw her arm around my neck, helping her to her feet. "We need to get you to some fresh air."

  "I'm not alone. There's someone else back here too." She starts coughing into her hand, the sound harsh and raspy. When she pulls her hand away it's black. Not a good sign.

  "Where?" I look around, seeing no one.

  "Over there." She points to the area of the bar where the beam fell.

  I prop her against the edge of the bar. "Wait here."

  Joining Owen we sift through the debris making our way over toward the downed beam. At least it's not on fire, I think to myself.

  Owen swings his arm out in front of me. "I think I see something." Moving slower, he inches closer then comes to a sudden stop. "There's someone pinned under the beam."

  Oh, God. Whoever it is, please don't let them be dead, I silently pray. Unwanted memories of watching Logan die pop into my head. I can’t take watching someone else die too.

  Working together, Owen and I lift the beam off the body of a girl with short dark hair lying face down. Her clothes are torn in places and covered in soot. Gently, Owen rolls her over onto her back. He jerks his hands back as mine automatically fist at my sides.

  "It's Zoe," Owen states, his voice heavy with disgust and just a hint of concern.

  "Is she alive?" I ask though I'm not sure if I really care either way because when I look at her all I see is every horrible and unforgivable thing she's ever done to me, to Jared, to Will and Eric, and to Sam.

  Owen crouches down beside her placing two fingers onto the side of her neck. "She's got a pulse. It's weak, but it's there." He looks up at me. "What should we do with her?"

  Leave her here to die, is what I'm tempted to say, but unlike her, I actually have a soul. "We take her to Eric and Will. She's their sister. They can decide what to do with her."

  "Okay." Owen starts to scoop her up into his arms.

  "Wait." I say it so suddenly he drops her. I don't feel bad. "We can't risk her waking up. Can you make sure she stays asleep by doing what Will did with the purple energy ball thingy?"

  Owen smirks at my description. "Yeah, I can hit her with the purple energy ball thingy, as you so eloquently put it." Taking out a switchblade from his front pocket, he releases the blade held within then presses the sharp edge against the inside of his hand. Starting just under his index finger, he cuts diagonally across the center of his hand, ending at the edge of his palm. He lets his hand fill with blood while he pockets the knife. Closing his eyes, he cups his hands one over the other while whispering the same words Will used once before. Between his hands a glowing purple ball of energy grows inside until it reaches the size of a softball. Opening his eyes he shoves the ball at Zoe. It hits her in the chest disbursing itself over her entire body. "It's done."

  "Somebody want to tell me what the hell that was?" Kat looks back and forth between Owen and I with fear. I take a step toward her and she slams herself back against the bar, her nails digging into the surface.

  I hold my hands up in front of me. "It's okay. I'll explain everything once were outside. I promise."

  "What did you do to her?" Kat demands of Owen. She backs away a little more, her eyes shifting back and forth from him to Zoe and back again. "Are you going to do to me what she did? Get into my head? Make me do things I don't want to do?" She turns her gaze to me, her eyes wild and scared. "Are you like them too? Is that what you've been hiding?" Obviously, she didn't see my trick with the water earlier if she's questioning me now.

  "Kat please, you don't have to be afraid of us. Owen and I, we're the good guys and I promise I'll explain everything if you come with me." Another beam crashes loudly in the center of the dance floor, shaking the ground under my feet. "Now, if you come with me now. It isn't safe here."

  Kat starts coughing again, her body jerking in spasms. I reach for her, she moves away nearly falling to the floor.

  "Don't touch me."

  "Kat, please. You can trust me." I hold my hand out to her. She stares at it for a moment. Releasing her death grip on the bar, she extends her hand toward mine, then hesitates half way there. "I have questions. A lot of them. And you will answer every single one truthfully. Swear it."

  "I swear."

  "Okay." She gives me her hand. Behind me, I hear Owen grunt as he lifts Zoe up into his arms.

  ***

  By the time we make it outside the alley is empty except for a string of firefighters running past us, dragging along a hose. The firefighter at the end of the line stops while his friends take the emergency exit stairs up to the club.

  "Is there anyone left inside?" He asks.

  "No. We were the last ones out," Owen answers.

  The firefighter assesses us, spending extra time on Zoe. "There are emergency personnel out front, be sure to have yourselves checked out and your friend there taken to the hospital."

  "Okay," Owen tells the firefighter as he’s leaving to join his firefighter buddies inside. Owen and I share a look of relief that the firefighter guy didn't escort us himself. Neither one of us has any intention of sticking around.

  The street in front of The Iron Knife is in a state of barely controlled chaos with traumatized club goers, EMT's, firefighters, and Lake Haven's finest running back and forth under a blanket of flashing red and blue lights.

  "We need to get out of here." Owen looks around, presumably for Luca, Eric, Will, or possibly even Cassidy who I haven't seen since Blondie had his lackey's torch the club. She's probably with Thomas and his lot right now, plotting how to get Jared back or take him out. The thought of them taking Jared out instead of saving him, sends shivers up and down my spine. We need to find him before they do.

  "You," Owen says to Kat. "Did you drive here?"

  "Yeah. I'm parked over there." She points to a lot across the street before falling to her knees in a fit of coughs. Unlike Owen and I she can't self-heal and the damage to her lungs is probably extensive with all the smoke she'd inhaled. "I think I need to go to the hospital."

  "Kat, I need you to trust me, okay?" She hesitates then nods. I can't really blame her for the hesitation since I've been lying to her for weeks. I probably wouldn't really trust me either if I were in her shoes. "Okay, then I'm going to do something now to help you breathe, alright?"

  "Okay."

  Kneeling down beside her, I place my hand on her back. Energy hums within me and I focus it all on her, as I imagine all the smoke damage done to her lungs, throat, nose, and sinuses reversing.

  She takes a deep breath before twisting around to face me. "How...How did you do that?"

  "Add it to my list of things to explain later. Right now we need to get out of here."

  Climbing to her feet, she nods. "Fine, but you're going to explain things very, very soon. Like in the car while we're going to where ever it is we're going. Where are we going?"

  "To Eric's," Owen answers as he leads us across the street with Zoe still held in his arms, he
r head and feet bobbing with each step he takes. I kind of, sort of, wish he'd trip, just a little, so he'd drop her. I have no idea if she'd feel it or not, but it sure would make me feel wonderful.

  Kat unlocks the doors to Benzie, her much loved red Mercedes convertible. She slides in behind the wheel, I take shotgun, and Owen climbs into the back resting Zoe's head in his lap. Owen gives Kat directions to Eric's house and when we pull out of the lot no one standing around outside the club seems to notice or care.

  "Okay, Hanna. Start talking," Kat prompts once we're a block away from what's left of The Iron Knife, so I do. I start from the beginning and tell her absolutely everything. She listens to all I have to say without uttering so much as one word. By the time I'm done and we're pulling into Eric's driveway she knows who everyone is, what they are, everything that's happened, everything I've felt, everything I've experienced, and everything I've done.

  She turns the engine off. Making no move to get out of the car she sits there staring straight ahead. Finally she says, "I'm so sorry for being such a bitch to you. You had all this heavy stuff to deal with on your own and I was the worst friend ever. Can you forgive me?"

  Every word that just came out of her mouth is the complete opposite of what I expected to hear her say and for a moment I'm at a loss for words before I find my voice. "Of course, I forgive you."

  Leaning over in the seat, she hugs me. "I've missed you Hanna Harper."

  "I've missed you too."

  A throat clears in the backseat. I completely forgot about Owen being back there. He looks a little embarrassed at having witnessed Kat and I make up. "So, think one of you can help me get Zoe out of the car?"

  Kat must read something in my face at Owen's request because she volunteers. Getting out of the car, she goes around to the other side and climbs into the backseat helping Owen slide Zoe closer to the door, positioning her into a sitting position so he can easily scoop her into his arms.

  I climb out of Benzie and the first thing I see is Logan's little black car parked in the driveway right beside Eric's massive SUV of the same color. Someone must have driven it back here. I can't seem to take my eyes off of it, even though I want to. And I can't seem to stop myself from replaying her death over and over in my mind either.

  "I'm so sorry Logan," I mumble to myself. If I hadn't taken so long to make a decision when Blondie had asked me to choose...If I had been paying attention...If I hadn't underestimated all the things that could go wrong...Maybe I could have done something? Maybe I could have stopped Blondie. Maybe I could have flung the knife out of his hand, or better yet, flung him away. Maybe I could have saved her.

  "This is Officer Hottie's house?" Kat says impressed. "Wow. I think I've been crushing on the wrong brother."

  I wipe away the tears from my eyes before turning away from Logan's car and the memories of her death. "His name's Eric, remember?"

  "I remember, I just like calling him Officer Hottie, because he's you know, Hot." I see being mind controlled by a psycho Guardian gone rogue, nearly dying in a fire, finding out that fallen angels and Guardians with super human abilities exist, and that her best friend is caught in the middle of a war over her ex-boyfriend who's half Fallen and half Guardian with the fate of the world resting in his hands hasn't changed her ability to drool over boys. In some weird way it's kind of comforting.

  Owen closes the back door to Benzie with his foot since his arms are full of Zoe. "Hey can one of you get the door?" He juts his chin toward the front of the house.

  Benzie beeps twice when Kat hits the lock button on her keychain. Pocketing her keys she walks ahead of Owen toward the house. My feet stay firmly planted to the ground. I'm not ready to go in there and face everyone just yet.

  So many things went wrong tonight and nothing at all went according to plan. Blondie got what he wanted in taking Jared. My brother was beaten and stabbed. Will is possibly dying right now due to the amount of blades broken off in his body. The Order's divided between our side and Thomas's. Kat's now involved. And—my eyes drift back to the little black car—and Logan died. And it's all my fault.

  I wasn't strong enough.

  I wasn't good enough.

  I wasn't prepared enough.

  And now she's dead and I'm to blame.

  "Are you coming?" Kat holds the door open, the light from inside spilling over the front porch.

  "I'll be in in a minute." I'm lying. I don't think I can ever go in there again, not when I have to face Eric. I don't want to see the look of blame and sadness in his eyes because it just might destroy me. I don't want to face everyone and have them look at me like a failure, or the reason the world, as we know it ends because I couldn't protect Jared from Blondie.

  "Do you want me to stay out there with you? Keep you company?"

  "No."

  "You sure?"

  "Yeah. I'll be fine." Another big fat lie. I'll never be fine again. "I just need some air."

  "Okay."

  As soon as the door closes I lose it. Dropping to my knees, tears fall and fall until I'm drowning, my body shaking uncontrollably. So much sadness and guilt rages through me I can't contain it anymore and I need a release.

  Pushing myself to my feet, I stalk to the nearest tree. My fingers curl until my hands are in tight fists, my chest heaving in and out with rapid breaths. I swing my fists as hard as I can, hitting the tree over and over leaving my knuckles, fingers, and hands a broken bloody mess. But I don't care what state my hands are in. I welcome the pain because for a few short moments the physical pain I feel outweighs the emotional. I totally get now why Will hits things when he's upset.

  "What did that poor tree ever do to you?" Luca asks from behind me. I stop mid-punch, dropping my arms to my sides.

  "Nothing," I answer in a small voice. Now that my arms aren't moving I suddenly feel drained. I sit at the base of the tree resting my back against the trunk. Luca sits beside me.

  "No one blames you for what happened tonight Hanna," he says softly.

  "They should. I do."

  Luca takes my hands turning them this way and that, examining the damage I've done to myself. "Clearly, but you shouldn't. We all knew what we were getting into. We all knew the risks. This is the way we live our lives Hanna. Everyday we go out there knowing one day we're not going to come back. It's harsh and it's brutal, but it's our way, so believe me when I say no one blames you for Logan. And as for Jared, we're going to get him back."

  He jerks one of my fingers back into place. I bite my lip at the sudden pain. He flicks his eyes to mine as he moves on to the next. "You've broken several fingers. If they're not set they won't heal properly."

  "Maybe I don't want them to," I say through gritted teeth. "Maybe I want them to be broken and twisted to serve as a reminder of how everything can go so wrong so fast." He snaps the last finger back into place and I inhale sharply. "Jared's gone and I have no idea how we're going to get him back and I can't," I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. "I can't stop replaying Logan's death over and over on an endless loop in my head. Every time I close my eyes I see her face as she takes her last breath. How am I ever supposed to look Eric in the eye again? Because of me, because she was looking for my brother, because I hesitated, she died. Eric watched her die and Will—"

  "Will is fine," Luca says, cutting me off. Relief hits me so hard that for a moment I forget about everything else weighing me down. "I got all the broken pieces out and he's resting in his room. And as for Logan, I'm sure Eric doesn't blame you. There was nothing you could have done. There was nothing any of us could have done. If Eric blames anybody it's Blondie and that's who you should blame too."

  "Maybe you're right. Maybe Blondie's the only one Eric blames and maybe I should too, but..."

  "No buts. Blondie's the only one deserving of any blame." He stands, holding his hand out for me to take. He gives it a shake when I don't. "Come on, you can't sit out here all night. I promise things won't be as bad as you're imagining they’re goin
g to be in there."

  "You sure are optimistic aren't you?" I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

  He smiles and I notice his front tooth is chipped. I wonder if it's always been like that or if it's something new. "Life's too short to dwell on all the negatives when there's so many positive things to focus on instead. You should try it."

  "Yeah, I'll get right on that," I say a little sarcastically and Luca laughs.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Adam leans against the banister of the porch as far from me as he can get. Anytime I move so much as an inch he scoots further away. I thought the way he looked at me at the club was bad, but this new look he's giving me right now after hearing the truth about what's been going on with me is way, way worse.

  "Let me get this straight. You're telling me that the boy who died at The Iron Knife was really some super human Guardian who tattooed your arm with nothing but his bare hands giving you access to his memories as well as super abilities of your own so you can protect Jared who's now suddenly a hybrid half-breed of a fallen angel and a Guardian fated to start the apocalypse?" He rakes a hand over his short blonde hair. "Do you have any idea how crazy you sound?"

  "I know how it sounds, but I swear it's the truth. You've seen it for yourself," I say gently. He eyeballs me with a haunted look as he fights tooth and nail to deny it.

  "I don't know what I've seen." He pushes away from the banister, paces for a moment. "But this—what you're saying—it's nuts. Fallen angels, super human Guardians, the fate of the world in Jared's hands. It's asking too much. I like to think I'm open-minded, but come on Hanna, lines have to be drawn somewhere." He sounds like I did when Will first told me about Guardians and Fallen.

  Adam sighs deeply then leans back against the banister. "I still have the number for the psychologist Dr. Roberts recommended. I think maybe you should call it."

  "I'm not crazy, Adam. If everything I said was really all part of some delusional world I'm living in then explain to me what happened to your stab wound." I wait a beat; he doesn't say a word. "I know Blondie stabbed you, but since you haven't bled to death, I'm assuming Will was able to heal you in some fashion before things went to hell. Am I right, or are you denying that too?"