I pushed myself up from the ground and turned toward the waiting Demon. He was staring at me, his eyes wider than before. “Kill me, then,” he nearly taunted. “You can’t save me. So kill me. Kill me. Kill me, Kate Bennett, before I kill you. Before I kill everyone you love.”
My fingers hesitated, then suddenly I was crushing the hilt. I knew without consciously admitting it that I’d made my decision to destroy him.
Far Darrig grinned. I tried to ignore how familiar that grin was. He dropped the gun without thought, spreading his hands and holding them inoffensively near each hip. It was an inviting pose, and his taunting eyes gleamed. “Come on, Kate,” he breathed. “We haven’t all night . . .”
I zeroed in on his chest, where his heart was beating madly. I thought I could actually hear it pounding. My resolve wavered for only a second, then I was darting forward, holding the knife exactly as Patrick’s training dictated.
The second before the blade sank into his heart, I heard Patrick’s agonized cry.
I jolted awake, my arms and legs thrashing abruptly against the mattress. I lay gasping on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to steady my breathing.
I’d had versions of that same dream nearly every night for just over a month now. Ever since the funeral I’d been reliving my grandfather’s death. The horrible bang of the gunshot, the awful dropping of my stomach as I watched him fall to the asphalt . . .
This past week, the dreams had changed. After hearing my grandpa beg me to save him, to change the past, I looked down and discovered the knife. This was the first time I’d ever decided to actually use it, determined to kill Sean O’Donnell for what he’d done. Last night I’d tossed the knife aside, disgusted by the sight of it. But I hadn’t this time. This time, I would have done it. I had done it.
I squeezed my eyes closed, dragged one arm to drape over my face. It blocked out the majority of the morning sunlight, but the comforting darkness was not completely calming. The thumping of my heart was painful, and my rasping breaths were taking too long to steady.
These dreams couldn’t be healthy. Killing my boyfriend’s brother, seeing my grandfather die again and again . . . It had to be the stress. That’s what created these dreams that filled me with doubt; that left me so shaken I hardly knew my own emotions anymore. Had I really become the type of person who would kill? The idea was ludicrous. Yet the dream was so fresh I could still feel the thrill of giving in to my murderous urges. I hadn’t just chosen to kill Far Darrig. I’d enjoyed it.
I was going to be sick.
I placed a hand over my mouth and fought to remember what else had been different this time. Patrick’s cry had been new. And though it had been extremely painful to hear his wounded scream, I was glad it was the resounding memory of the dream. The lingering knowledge that killing Sean would destroy Patrick left me feeling a little more sane. Of course I wouldn’t kill Far Darrig. Patrick would never forgive me for killing his brother. It was only a dream. A horrible nightmare, maybe, but in the end it was just fantasy.
The sudden pounding on my door startled me, giving my body its second shock of the morning. “Kate!” Josie called through the door. “Are you up or what? We need to be out of here in fifteen minutes!”
“Of course I’m up,” I lied, pushing myself into a sitting position so I could see the clock. Wow, I’d slept in. “I’ll be right down!” I shouldn’t have bothered with the last words, because I could already hear my sister skipping down the stairs.
It was Friday, thankfully. Getting through school was becoming a daily chore. Senioritis might be some of the problem, but mostly I was just tired of pretending to be normal when I wasn’t. True, I had some excuses to be a little weird and distant in public. I was the girl who’d lost both her parents and a grandparent, all in the same year.
Luckily, Thanksgiving break was fast approaching, so I had that to look forward to. Today, then just another week and a half. It would be a great break from school—one that I needed.
If only a vacation from my own life could be so easily arranged. Not all of it was bad, of course, but I’d been living under constant fear and heavy guard for a month. There was no break from it. Instead of the usual one or two Guardians most Seers had, I had four. I enjoyed the help of two additional Seers, just in case someone tried to sneak up on us when I wasn’t paying attention. Basically, I was never alone. Not even at home. Neither was my family, not that they were aware of that fact. The twins had no clue about the unusual side of my life. Grandma knew everything now, but even she didn’t realize how closely we were being watched. It was just as well—I was freaking out enough for all of us.
I mean, I knew things had to be different now. Escaping the Demon Lord wasn’t something we could just walk away from. There would be consequences. And I was completely aware of how much my Guardians were sacrificing to protect me. At the same time, it was hard to be smothered so constantly, when absolutely nothing had happened. From what we could detect, there were no Demons in the area, aside from Clyde. Peter Keegan, a Seer who worked for the Demons, was the closest possible enemy we had, though I didn’t perceive him that way. He was dating my best friend’s mom and completely committed to their safety. While that opened up the possibility for betrayal, he was, for the moment, protecting people I cared about. Patrick didn’t share my optimistic view on Peter Keegan, but at least for now I didn’t feel the need to fear the Demon Seer.
I pulled in a deep breath meant to brace me for the day and rolled easily out of bed. I found some lightly wrinkled jeans in the corner that I’d worn yesterday and a little more searching won me a simple black T-shirt. Though it wasn’t the most stylish outfit, it would work for a Friday. As I slipped my feet into a pair of thin flats, I gripped the edge of my dresser, my eyes drawn to the framed pictures on the top. The smiling faces of my parents filled me with longing and nostalgia, but it was the picture of Grandpa in his old overalls that made my lips compress painfully. He looked so happy in the snapshot. His arm was slung around Grandma’s shoulders, and she was annoyed because she wanted to eat the hamburger on her plate. He was just grinning, his thin hair caught in the breeze. I’d taken this picture myself, the last Fourth of July my parents had spent with us.
I knew my grandpa didn’t blame me for his death, yet I couldn’t help but feel responsible. Especially when I missed him so much. I knew I wouldn’t feel so lost and worried if he was downstairs right now, reading his paper over breakfast, teasing Grandma . . .
I forced myself to look away from the picture. I didn’t have time to have a breakdown this morning. I sniffed back my stinging tears, scooped up my makeup bag, and made my way to the bathroom at the end of the hall. I wanted to skip over the whole get-ready-for-the-day routine, but Lee would get concerned if I showed up without doing any makeup. Besides, my hair really needed some attention.
The bathroom door was partially closed, but I didn’t bother to knock. Living in a house of girls did that to a person. Unfortunately, I should have remembered more people were living here these days.
Luckily his back was to me as he stood in front of the toilet. Still, when I heard the sound of a short zipper being tugged down, I was pretty sure I’d just walked into my most embarrassing moment.
“Toni!” I gasped in shock.
My Hispanic Guardian glanced over his shoulder. “Whoa, there!” he griped, whole body tensing as he tried to keep his body angled away from me. “Kate, where’s your propriety?”
My cheeks were flushed, and I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and slam the door. But I couldn’t keep myself from blurting out the obvious. “You’re in my bathroom!”
“And I’m not taking a bath,” he hinted significantly, his expression bordering on pain.
“We had rules!” I snapped, lowering my voice instinctively. (I was getting used to interacting with invisible people, through necessity; I didn’t want my sisters to think I’d started talking to myself.) “You’re not supposed to come up the stairs,”
I reminded him heavily, keeping my gaze firmly on his wide eyes. Even though he was turned away, I wasn’t about to let my eyes drift lower.
“Yeah, well, your grandma was in the one downstairs, and I’m no pervert. Though I can’t say the same for you. Geez, Kate,” he whined. “Can you at least close your eyes or something? Or I’m telling Patrick you peeked.”
His words triggered my ability to move, and I was quick to pull the door closed. I heard him mutter something in Spanish, and I closed my eyes tightly, wishing I could forget the whole moment.
Jenna’s voice was confused beside me, and I barely restrained a jump of surprise. “Is someone in there?” she asked.
Yeah. An invisible immortal guy who’s been shadowing you for the past month. “What?” I asked too quickly.
She raised one dubious eyebrow at my startled reception of her. “Josie’s downstairs. But you were talking to someone.”
“Huh? No, I wasn’t.”
She folded her arms, regarding me strangely. “Fine. Then why are you standing out here, holding the doorknob?”
For a brief second, I had no answer. And then I shook my head. “Jenna, it’s a spider, okay?”
“You always tell spiders they aren’t allowed up the stairs?”
I squinted at her. “I thought you were afraid of spiders?”
“I am. But I’m also scared of psychotic sisters.”
“Do you want to kill it?” I challenged, remembering my dream the second the word kill escaped me.
She paled just a little. “I think I’ll let you get this one,” she said, before skirting past me and bouncing down the stairs. I watched her go, taking note of her aura.
It was brighter today. Good.
A second later, the toilet flushed, and then Toni’s voice rang through the door. “The psychotic pervert can come in now, if she so desires.” I pushed the door open, watching as Toni washed his hands in the sink. He tossed me a carefree smile. “Good morning. How was your night?”
I got right to the point. “Toni, what are you doing in my bathroom?”
“Pretty sure you caught the gist of—”
“Why didn’t you close the door then?” I hissed. “Just because my sisters can’t see you doesn’t mean you should be in their bathroom.”
“Sheesh, let’s not bite Toni’s head off or anything. I mean, it’s not like the guy does any favors for you.” He shut off the water and reached for the fluffy blue hand towel. He turned to me while he dried off his hands, leaning against the counter and looking perfectly at ease. “I mean, do you think I like trailing two eleven-year-old girls all day? I use your bathroom in return for being a dutiful bodyguard, and the next thing I know I’m getting yelled at.”
“I’m not yelling.”
“Your eyes are.”
I opened my mouth to contradict him when Josie yelled from downstairs, “Nine minutes, Kate. Wait—eight!”
I pushed past Toni into the bathroom and set my makeup bag on the counter. I jerked the zipper open and searched for my mascara.
Toni watched me silently for a moment, and then he spoke easily. “Something’s bugging you. Want to share?”
“I don’t really want to share anything with you at the moment. Including this room.” I found my mascara and twisted the top off. I glanced over at Toni, gesturing with my chin. “Can you turn on the light, please?”
He flipped it on with the flick of a finger, but he continued to hold the towel and stare at me. He settled back against the counter, watching as I began stroking the small brush over my eyelashes.
“You haven’t been sleeping well,” Toni stated suddenly. “During my last night watch, I heard you from downstairs. You were crying.”
I started combing through my other eyelashes, eyes intent on the mirror before me. “I had a bad dream.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. Claire and Jason, they’ve heard you too. I haven’t asked the others, but I’m pretty sure these bad dreams of yours are getting worse.”
I sent him a quick look, then dipped my hand back into my bag, searching for some eye shadow to help my eyes look less tired. I tried to keep my voice neutral. “Have you told Patrick?”
He meticulously folded and replaced the towel on its rack. “Nope. Wasn’t planning on it, either. The guy’s already losing enough sleep over you.”
“He worries too much.”
Toni shrugged. “He’s duly concerned, I think. You’re a little heavier on the right eye—there, yeah. Anyway, I don’t think he’s got any plans to help on the night watches, since you keep him busy all day, but . . . if he does, you might give him some warning. Else he might come running up those stairs to save you, and that’s obviously against the rules.”
“He’s exempt from that rule.”
“He’s allowed in your bedroom? I should tell your grandmother . . .” He squinted into my bag, and before I could stop him he’d snatched something out. “What the freak thing is this?” He blanched, holding it close to his face for a better examination.
“It’s for curling your eyelashes.”
“It looks like a medieval torture device,” he said evenly, cautiously opening and closing it.
“You would know.”
“I’m not that old, chica.”
I rolled my eyes. “Toni, don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Not really, no.”
“Maybe you could find something to do? Downstairs?”
He set the eyelash curler on the counter, looking wounded. “Fine,” he sniffed. “But just so you know, your hints are so pointed I think you drew blood—you should be more careful.”
“Toni,” I said warningly.
He surrendered, with raised hands and all. “Yeah, sure, I’m gone. I was never here . . .” He backed out of the room, and I concentrated on getting ready for the day.
I heard Jack’s thick Australian accent before I reached the kitchen. He was the only Guardian aside from Patrick allowed to be visible around the twins, and I was grateful my sisters had him. Honestly, I think he was a lot of the reason why their auras were getting happier lately. To them he was Uncle Jack, one of Grandpa’s good friends. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, quite a bit younger than Grandpa had been, not that that seemed to raise any suspicions. The twins were just happy to have him around.
“. . . Then I said to the bludger, ‘Get your own!’ ” The twins chuckled, more from his eccentric storytelling than the actual story, and then he prompted them to finish their food. “Brekkie is an important meal, you two. Don’t laugh at me; I’m serious.” More giggles erupted at that.
“Um, thank you, Jack,” Grandma interrupted, sounding anything but grateful. “Josie, finish your milk. Jenna, was Kate on her way down?”
Before my sister could answer, I was stepping into the familiar kitchen.
The twins were sitting at the table with Jack, who was sitting in Grandpa’s usual spot. Grandma was at the stove, heating some water for her tea. An invisible Toni was standing in the corner, waggling his fingers at me with a goofy grin.
I focused on Grandma, who turned at my entrance. “Kate, how did you sleep?”
“Good,” I said, not bothering to elaborate.
Toni snorted, and Jack caught himself before he could completely turn at the sound. He did lift questioning eyes to me, and I rolled mine in answer. Jack smiled a little, then focused back on his oatmeal.
I moved to the table, not bothering to sit down. I reached around Jenna to grab a bagel, and I asked Josie to pass the knife and strawberry cream cheese.
While I prepared my breakfast, I tried to figure out who was on what duty today. Judging from Toni’s presence, and Jack’s, it was pretty safe to guess that Claire had just gotten off the night shift. That meant Maddy would most likely be at the elementary school, where—with fake ID and some help from Terence—she’d been able to secure a janitorial position. She and Toni would be on twin duty, then. Jack would be with my Grandma for the day, which meant Jason was the one with
the morning off. Patrick, of course, was my personal bodyguard. The occasions were rare when he would let that job fall to anyone else. His presence was the one thing I could count on every day.
I took a few hurried bites of my bagel, and then I motioned for the twins to head for the car. Toni was already moving toward the door, assuring me he’d be in the trunk. He called it the Toni Seat, actually. Jack barely held in a laugh, which he covered by jumping up to help my Grandma with the steaming teapot. “Let me get that billy for you, Charlotte.”
She nodded her thanks and then turned back to the table. “You girls have a good day at school, all right?”
“Yeah,” Josie grunted. “Should be great. Mr. Keegan’s going to show us some boring movie about how great the ocean is.”
“I think it’s going to be fun,” Jenna argued.
“We all make mistakes,” Josie reassured her sister.
I waved with my bagel on the way out. “Bye, Grandma. Bye, Jack.”
“Have a corker of a day, Kate.”
“I love you.” Grandma overrode him.
I returned the sentiment with a smile, then turned and walked down the entryway to the waiting front door.
Despite all the negative things in my life, it was great to know I had friends who cared about me. Not just the Guardians and Seers, either. Lee Pearson was one of my greatest comforts these days. She understood me better than almost anyone alive. She’d been with me through losing my parents, so she could basically pick up on my moods with telepathic accuracy. In addition to understanding my needs, she was also one of the only people who knew about my abilities and the danger I was in. She’d been there in Vegas, helping me get away from the Demon Lord. I knew she’d be there whenever I needed her next. That was just Lee. She was loyal and understanding. She was also a little eccentric. This week was the last week of Rainbow Days, her seven-week celebration of the basic colors. Orange, blue, red, pink . . . she’d done them all. This week was green. Though she’d done a lime green shade for the first half of the week, she’d now moved on to a darker color. She kind of resembled a leprechaun, actually. Her almost shoulder-length hair was still dyed a lighter shade, but it worked with the darker outfit.
Guardians (Seers Trilogy Book 3) Page 3
