Knight Angels: Book of Love (Book One) Page 4

  “You murdered our parents. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

  Greg shrugged. “You’re just upset that I didn’t care about you. Erik just got in the way. He shouldn’t have been there that day.”

  I was surprised by his remark. It was as though he was admitting that he cared about our little brother after all. Even if he had once almost killed him, he claims now that it was an accident that Erik was even there. I never figured he had the heart.

  I watched the dark green afterglow of his eyes, a telltale sign of what he was—a Black Angel. Greg had defied the Heavens, turning to the side that wanted to drag every human soul to Hell. I, on the other hand, I wanted justice, peace and equality. There was no need for this separation of the supernatural and the human. Regardless of what was right, Greg was evil now. His heart burned, and he no longer understood rationality. There was nothing left of the human for whom I once cared. There was nothing left of the brother that still shares my blood.

  “She is not harming anyone,” I spat, trying to remain quiet. “Her fate here will not affect the balance of the world. Jane has a simple soul.”

  Greg narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t matter.” He toyed with the spine of a book on the shelf beside us.

  I grumbled. “And what about the magick?”

  I saw my brother looked confused.

  “There is more here than you think,” I continued.

  I thought of the boy I’d seen with Jane. He was turning, growing into what his parents left for him to become. I knew that with him here, Greg would have a harder time getting to Jane. His magick was an ancient kind of magick, bred into his blood for generations.

  “You can’t deny that magick is coming back to the area, Greg, no matter what you do to try and stop it.”

  Greg looked defeated by my words. “In time, it too will be eradicated on Earth.”

  I shook my head. “This magick is dangerous, Greg. I’ve dealt with it before. This is not the kind you used to know when you were young. But, luckily for me, all the magick here is on my side.” I lied, but I knew that if the boy understood, he would help me in the end. “Those touched by that kind of magick are strong, perhaps even stronger than you.”

  “And far stronger than you, Brother.” He smirked.

  I wasn’t afraid of what was here. Glenwood had always been a place of magick. I shook my head, my anger growing tired of his games. “Stay away from her, Greg.”

  Greg pressed his lips together, seeming to conform to my wishes. “But nothing keeps me from her family, Max. Remember that.”

  A half smile crept across his face as he faded into the air like a cloud of smoke. As quickly as he came, he was gone, leaving nothing but a feather that lingered in the space before me, pitch black as it spiraled to the ground.

  Emily:

  I looked back as Alexis and I stormed away from Jane and the library, my grip on her arm tight. I hit the handle of the door with the butt of my palm, throwing it open. We exited into the hall, the fluorescent lights pouring down on us.

  Alexis laughed. “You’re sister is such a nerd. She’s so easy to frighten.” Her footsteps were sloppy as I continued to drag her.

  I glared at Alexis. “Leave her alone,” I said in her defense. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them. What was I doing? Why was I defending her?

  Alexis shrugged away from me and we halted in the hall. She crossed her arms against her chest, discontented by the fact that I’d side with Jane. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft, Em.”

  I scratched my head as I pushed the hair from my face, annoyed. “I’m not soft,” I retorted.

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes before her face changed completely. She grinned wide. “Did you see the new guy?” Alexis looked over her shoulder toward the library.

  I was shocked by her ability to change the mood of a conversation so quickly.

  “He was standing by your sister in that aisle.” She laughed. “He may be cute, but he sure has bad taste.” A snort passed her lips.

  I was hearing her words, but none of it was registering. I was too confused, too clouded. The Vicoden I took earlier was numbing my ability to hear her thoughts, and I was thankful for that. I didn’t need to hear about how big she thought his stuff was.

  “Hello! Earth. To. Emily!” Alexis shook me.

  I snapped out of it. “Yeah, bad taste.” I wasn’t sure exactly what I was agreeing to.

  Alexis crooned once more. “Maybe we won’t have to worry about him, though. Check this one out.”

  I looked up, seeing a boy just like the other, though not identical, walking toward us down the hall from the library. His green eyes were gazing beyond us, as though we didn’t exist. He had an identical dark grey T-shirt on, but his jeans were a noticeable upgrade. He, too, had tattoos on both forearms, much like the other boy. They had to be brothers. There was no other explanation.

  Another sickening wash of fear drowned my heart. I stopped breathing. The whispers that filled my head were screaming in agony, this new boy’s mind a mess of pain. He glanced at me and smirked. I gasped, seeing danger in his eyes as he drew close.

  “What—” My voice echoed in my head, as though my ears had been stuffed with cotton.

  “Wow, he’s way cuter than the other one. Better dressed, too. They must be related.” She was whispering, or at least that’s what it sounded like over the screams in the boy’s head. He was about to pass us, the thoughts growing louder. I saw Alexis strike a pose beside me, attempting to attract his attention.

  The boy smirked then, his expression nonchalant. He winked.

  I felt disgusted and intrigued at the same time, completely confused by the mess of emotion that was balling up inside my chest.

  He passed us as though in slow motion. Sweat gathered on my brow, the pain of the screams resonating through my very core. I shivered, refusing to turn and watch as he walked away. When the whispers finally faded, and he was gone from view, my shoulders sank. I was able to relax. Ambient sound rushed back to me, leaving my ears numbed.

  What was that?

  Wes:

  I was gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles white. Sweat dripped down my brow and hit my arm. The splash of it was magnified in my ears. A sharp pain pulsed through my chest, my heart racing. What was wrong with me? I tried to move my arm but it was frozen on the wheel. I took another moment to try and relax, but the feeling only seemed to expand.

  Attempting to distract myself, I thought about the new kid I’d passed on my way out. For a split second, the pain inside me had been relieved, as though he’d absorbed it. My head had become clear, but there was another feeling that had replaced the pain—undeniable and overwhelming hate. I’d never felt so much hate. And the way he smelled—like ash. I felt him. I felt his soul, but there was nothing but… ash. The chill that had pulsed through me was hard to ignore.

  Who was he?

  My grip on the wheel released. I felt my forehead; it was still burning. I wasn’t out of the woods yet. I pulled the visor down, flipping up the mirror to look at myself. My pupils were dilated, their shape wavering. A metallic flavor filled my mouth. I wiped it with the back of my hand, seeing blood stain my shirt. I looked back in the mirror, seeing blood now drip from my nose. I needed to get away from the school, and fast.

  I wiped my nose on my sleeve, struggling to put the keys into the ignition as my hands trembled. The engine turned over as it roared to life, silencing the painful cry that escaped from my mouth. My bones felt like rusted steel as I moved them. I slammed my hand down on the shifter, throwing it in reverse as I pressed down on the gas. My tires burned against the pavement, releasing a plume of smoke that engulfed my car. I shifted once more, emerging from the cloud and speeding down the aisle of cars.

  Once out of the lot, I turned toward home, not knowing where else to go. I could feel the warm blood dripping from my nose, my attempts to blot it on my sleeve useless. I looked down, mesmerized by the deep crimson. I forced my gaze a
way, keeping my eyes on the road as my vision began to blur.

  Finding I could go no further, I turned onto the shoulder. I quickly scanned my surroundings. There was an old forest road just to my right that led back to an abandoned steam cave where students would escape to make-out. I drove on the shoulder until I reached it, hoping it would help hide me. I turned in, driving a few yards further before stopping the car all together. As the trees surrounded me, I felt safe. I shut the car off, leaning back against the seat.

  I took a deep breath, feeling things begin to cool. My eyelids drifted shut. There was something about the forest that brought relief, the branches like open arms. I heard a hawk cry out, the sound muffled by the walls of the car. I opened my eyes, peering through the windshield. The hawk sat in a nearby tree, watching me. It tilted its head from one side to the other. Its feathers were a dark brown, its eyes like solid amber. It stayed there with me until I fell asleep, watching me like a friend.

  Even in my dreams, the hawk remained.

  Jane:

  By Wednesday afternoon, I was wishing that summer wasn’t over and I could go back to sleeping in and spending my whole day holed up in my room. The events of Monday seemed to bleed into Tuesday, and then today. The rumors of my spazstic act in the library had spread, and if I thought it was bad enough being a no-name loser, it was worse being a known loser.

  I sat on a ledge by the parking lot, waiting for my mother to pick us up. Wes’s car wasn’t in the lot or at his house. I was growing concerned. I hadn’t seen him since lunch on Monday, and I began to wonder if he was finally fed up with me.

  Emily stood by the fence to the football field fifty yards away. She was alone. I observed her, still concerned about her behavior in the library. Her arms were crossed against her chest in a standoffish pose, her ears plugged with headphones. Since then, Emily had seemed no worse than normal, which was a relief, but still, she worried me. Her death omen had recently changed from the drug overdose I’d seen all week, to a scene of murder that seemed to be a result of a jealous lover.

  I shivered, looking away. The clouds in the sky shrouded us in a wet chill, leaving me hugging my arms to my chest.

  Mother was late, as she always was. I heard the doors behind me open and close with a familiar whine. I didn’t bother to look, afraid the chill would reach my skin. Footsteps walked down the path to the parking lot, long and heavy. I heard them turn and walk toward me, but still I did not bother to lift my gaze, not willing to deal with yet another vision of death. A dark figure arrived at my side, coming to a halt and flooding my peripherals as it sat on the wall beside me. My thoughts transformed, showing me the same graveyard, with the same undead new boy.

  I looked up at him with a shocked expression, seeing he was now invading my personal space. His gaze was fixed straight ahead of him.

  “Sorry about before. I didn’t mean to scare you off.” His voice was as low and raspy as it had been in the library, but also strained. “I didn’t mean to act so…” his words trailed.

  Creepy? I thought.

  He adjusted himself on the wall. “Uh… creepy.”

  I raised my brows, his answer a perfect match to my own. I took a moment to gather my emotions, not wanting a wordless repeat of what had happened in the library.

  “It’s alright,” I murmured.

  A confident smirk lifted the corners of his mouth, revealing the dimple on his left cheek. I looked down into my lap, still watching him from the corner of my eye. His jeans today were the same no-name brand, faded grey from too much washing. There was a blue stain on one leg, something resembling paint. His hands were propped at his sides against the cement of the wall, the pale olive color of his skin contrasting with the ocean in his eyes.

  He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to be that way. I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He paused, as though discouraged by his own words. He exhaled and reformed his angle of approach, his hands gripping the wall we sat on. “I’m Max,” he said simply.

  His eyes met mine, a wave of emotion washing over me. I struggled to comprehend them, but in our present position beside each other—close beside each other—it was impossible to make sense of anything.

  Max’s lips were still curled. I noticed small flecks of silver in his irises that I hadn’t before. Only in his current proximity could they ever be seen. They were like white caps on a tormented sea. He ran a hand through his hair, exposing his tattoo with the movement. I licked my lips, afraid to say anything.

  I glanced beyond him toward Emily; she was watching us, her arms draped at her sides and her posture stiff. Her face was showing some of the same frustration it had in the library. I blinked away from her and looked back at Max, wondering what was going on in her head.

  I studied his face for a moment, trying to read his expression. He was handsome, and I began to wonder why he was talking to me at all. His brown hair looked effortless, and though his clothes were nameless, it didn’t steal from his admittedly edgy image. He watched me, as though entertained, though I’d said nothing at all.

  Max took a deep breath and glanced toward the lot.

  “People here are a little bit different, aren’t they?” He chuckled. I could tell he was attempting to get me to talk. “They sure aren’t ashamed of staring.” He lifted one brow.

  I felt my cheeks flush, wondering if he meant that to be aimed at me.

  He shook his head, his piercing eyes catching mine as my stomached tugged. “At least you seem to have your head on straight.”

  I couldn’t help but allow my mouth to curl at the corners. So it wasn’t directed at me at all—he was confiding.

  “You’re normal,” he added, his gaze steady.

  I finally let one laugh escape my lips—if he only knew. I pressed my lips together. “I hardly consider myself normal.” My voice came out slow and measured. I felt strange beside him, almost protected, though his image conveyed anything but.

  His face became thoughtful, seemingly engrossed by my response. We sat in silence for a moment, and I wondered where he came up with the notion that I was normal when I was anything but—everybody knew that.

  I shivered as a breeze passed by us, rubbing my hands together in an attempt to keep warm.

  “So, you’re new?” I regretted the words the minute they came out of my mouth.

  He nodded. “Um—yeah.”

  I cursed to myself. Of course he was new. That was a stupid question. I swallowed back my nerves. The problem was—I’d never had anyone like him talk to me before. The best experience I’d ever gotten was Wes, and though he was cute, he had a face I knew as well as Emily’s.

  “Where are you from?” I pressed another, better question.

  Max shrugged. “Denver,” he said rather vaguely. Denver was a large place. I waited, wondering if he’d divulge more information, but nothing was forthcoming.

  “Oh.” I paused. “So, what brings you here?” I couldn’t see why anyone would want to be here. Glenwood Springs was isolated from the rest of the world. It was a town that teemed with one annoying tourist after another, all vying to dip their toes in our natural hot springs.

  He looked at me, his eyes scanning mine as though fascinated by my very existence. “Family,” he added, another one word answer. He looked away, his brows suddenly dipping in frustration.

  An awkward silence fell over us. My eyes followed the line of his jaw to his ear where the freckle I’d noticed on Monday lived. I slid my gaze down his neck to his chest. He was wearing a black T-shirt, and I began to wonder how in the world he wasn’t cold. I looked at his hands and his flawless skin. My eyes trailed back up his arms. His tattoos were different than any I’d seen before, written in a language I didn’t recognize. On each forearm was a long, feathery, singular wing stretched from his wrist to the crease of his elbow. If he held his two arms together, I deduced that they formed a set. I squinted, looking closer; they seemed to resemble a burn rather than a tattoo.

  I could just imagine wh
at my mother would think if I brought him home. She wasn’t a fan of desecrating your body with ink. I was supposed to be the good kid, the steady thinker. Spending my time with someone like Max was something my sister would do—certainly not me.

  “I take that back—maybe you do stare.” Max looked sideways at me, humor lacing his voice.

  If my cheeks weren’t red already, I was certain their color had deepened five shades. I quickly dropped my gaze.

  “Oh… uh… sorry.” I began fidgeting with my hands.

  “I guess it’s only fair,” he continued. “I’ve been staring, too.”

  Another brisk wind blew across us and my teeth chattered. Staring at me? Is that what he meant? I changed the subject, uncomfortable with how personal it had become. “Aren’t you cold?”

  Max looked surprised. “Uh, yeah—a little.” He rubbed his arms then, though he had no visible goose bumps.

  I looked back toward the empty lot. “Are you waiting for a ride?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  I creased my brow. He was sitting here for the soul purpose of talking to me, wasn’t he? But then why wasn’t he really saying anything?

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. I was a wreck, nervous and beside myself. What was it about him that reverberated through my every sense, my every ounce of being?

  Max shrugged, meeting my eyes. They conveyed a sense of comfort. “Staring isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s just about enjoying the view—as you are.” He flashed me a challenging look.

  My stomach tugged once more, fluttering with butterflies. “I’m not staring,” I protested, knowing that was a lie.

  He nodded in a way that told me he also knew that was a lie. “It’s alright. You can stare. I just don’t like it when anyone else does.”

  I pouted.