Authors: Marianne Curley
Broken (2 page)
‘
Jordy!
’ Ebony runs to my side and tries to tug my hand out for a look. ‘How bad is it?’
The pain searing across every finger is such agony that I have to focus on breathing not to black out. Sweat is beading across my skin. Stars are flashing everywhere. Tears are stinging my eyes. I glance up at Thane with as much venom as I can muster. ‘Are you made of steel or something? You could have warned me!’
He just stares at me, immoveable as a Greek statue.
‘Nathaneal!’ Ebony cries out, ‘Is there anything you can do?’
He breaks out of his stunned trance and gets down beside me. ‘Let me look at that.’
It’s too embarrassing. I turn away and make myself swallow the pain, shoving it down, down,
down
!
It’s hard not to scream, but if I let go I’ll scream louder than a girl would.
He tries again. ‘Jordan, please let me see your hand.’
I stare at him, imagining my eyes are poisonous darts. ‘Screw you.’
‘Jordan,’ he says in his calming voice, the voice that irritates me so much I would punch him again if I could find a titanium glove.
But I’m not a complete idiot, and since he’s healed me before . . .
He hears me giving in and skims the top of my wrist, gently tugging my hand out as he continues to feel me letting go.
‘Jeez, Jordy, what were you thinking?’ Ebony asks, digging her fingers painfully into my shoulders, her concern making them rigid as iron bolts. They’re killing me. But I haven’t the heart to tell her to stop.
Thane glances at me with a fleeting smile. Of course he’s hearing everything now that I can’t concentrate on scrambling my thoughts.
‘You’ve broken every finger,’ he says.
Ebony gasps, ‘Seriously! Can you fix him, Nathaneal?’
‘I can fix the
hand
,’ he says with a lingering look at me before lifting his penetrating gaze to Ebony. ‘But I’ll need your help to keep it still. Like this,’ he says, showing her.
Cupping my broken fingers, her touch is warm and feather soft. I’m sure Thane doesn’t need her assistance, but if he thinks I’m gonna thank him, well, he can just forget it.
Thane’s healing touch is still as good as when he finished what the doctors had started after Adam Skinner bottled me in the stomach a while back. And when the pain eases enough for my fingers to uncurl I notice Ebony grinning at me, her violet eyes sparkling as if she’s trying to contain her laughter.
‘What’s so funny?’ I ask.
‘Riding.’
‘What are you talking about? Riding what?’
‘Riding Shadow is how I clear my head.’
Oh, man, I knew that!
I close my eyes while a burning flush creeps up my neck. Ebony pats my shoulders, her laughter completely mesmerising.
I just wish she were laughing
with
me.
2
Angels exist. I know this because I’ve met them, talked to them. I’ve even kissed one of them! They call this an indisputable fact. What
is
disputable is that I’m supposed to be an angel too. I’ve always felt different, like I don’t belong in my skin. For years I wondered who I was. But in all that time, not once did I think I was something other than human.
If I really am an angel, shouldn’t I feel angel blood throbbing through my veins? Or feel the powers I’m supposed to have inside me yearning for release? Without DNA tests or something just as scientifically validating, I can’t say for certain what I am, or where I belong.
Nathaneal wants me to trust him, but I didn’t grow up on Avena. I didn’t run down the halls of Angel School, or take Angel Biology for a subject.
I grew up on Earth. It’s chaotic here. We clamour for peace and fairness, but never quite achieve either. Earth is a world with too many questions and not enough answers. Doubt, distrust, fear – these are the things I know. My parents raised me to question everything, to accept nothing without scientifically backed proof.
But I’ve seen things now with my own eyes – real angels with incredible wings flying through the air, emitting incredible power from their hands, or from their minds. I’ve had bumps growing out of my own shoulders, and once I sprouted a feather.
It’s difficult for me to admit that I might really be an angel. The bumps on my shoulders and the feather that came away in my hand that day in Amber’s bathroom have not reappeared. But there are still the things I can do that other people can’t, like being the fastest runner in school (by a long shot) and hearing sounds I shouldn’t, like hearts beating, and whispered words uttered in locked rooms.
It’s Monday morning and still early enough to take Shadow out for a ride. After Nathaneal healed Jordan’s broken fingers in the gym, Jordan ran up to his room, claiming he wanted to study for his exam today. I hope he was telling the truth, because it wasn’t what his eyes were saying.
And reading eyes is apparently one of my special
angel
skills.
3
Sitting on the shower floor with steaming water pouring over my head, I stare at the hand that Thane fixed. Man, he looked shocked when I slugged him, but even more so when he saw my five broken fingers. Why does every good thing in my life eventually turn rotten? And why can I think clearly when I’m alone, but when I’m near Ebony every thought is of her? I want that girl so much sometimes I think I’m going crazy.
Eventually I get out, dry off, dress for school, pack my bag and check my phone for messages. There are two from Danny and one from Sophie, reminding me not to be late for the exam in second period. It’s like all we do as seniors are exams. At least school gives me something other than Ebony to think about.
I drop my backpack at the front door and head to the kitchen. It’s strangely quiet. I glance at my watch. Ebony should be back from her ride any minute now. I’m not hungry, but should probably eat something so I pour myself some juice from the fridge, throw it down and start hunting for leftovers.
That’s when I hear three powerful cars drive in. I’ve heard cars like these before. I peer through the living-room glass wall and see a familiar red Ferrari, silver Porsche and a sky-blue Aston Martin.
Yep, the angels are back.
My stomach clenches as I wonder what’s going on.
The unmistakable golden angel Michael is first out. Trying not to look as shaken as I’m starting to feel, I jog over. ‘Hey, Michael, what brings you back to Earth?’
My eyes do a double take when his colleagues start piling out.
Holy crap!
These dudes are
massive
. How you’d imagine gigantic armour-clad gladiators would look.
They’re fast and silent, making a pyramid formation behind Michael without stirring the air or fluttering a leaf. It’s intense.
They’re
intense. They look incredible in silver armour, with polished breastplates and fancy gauntlets reaching up to the elbow. But it’s their helmets, revealing only intimidating ice-grey eyes, that give them that nightmarish otherworldly look.
The hairs at the back of my neck stand on end.
‘Hello, Jordan,’ Michael says, his voice bleak.
I get it. The fully armoured giant gladiators are some kind of elite military enforcement detail, like Special Forces cops or soldiers. Michael is here to take someone back with him. He wouldn’t need these fierce-looking dudes to haul in a
human
. Or Ebony.
It can only be . . .
‘This is bullshit, man!’ I give Michael an accusing stare. ‘How can you do this? He’s your friend. He’s one of you.’
‘Precisely why
I’m
here,’ he says, as if that’s enough explanation. It’s not.
The soldiers suddenly look in the direction of the barn, their heads moving in supernatural sync, like predators simultaneously picking up the scent of their prey.
The lovebirds swing into view as they lead the horses into the stables, and I fight the urge to run and warn them. Michael’s withering look lets me know there would be no point.
‘He knows already?’
Michael’s nod is slight, just a fraction slower than a human blink.
‘This is not right, Michael.’
‘It’s protocol.’
‘You wouldn’t be here with
them
,’ I jerk my thumb at the giant soldiers, ‘if it was only protocol. You’re treating Thane the same as you would a dangerous criminal.’ When he doesn’t say anything, not only is my guess confirmed, but I get the whole picture. ‘You’re
arresting
him?’
‘Jordan, you have a choice. You can make this more difficult than it is already, or you can help.’
‘You think
I’m
being difficult? Wait until Ebony gets a whiff of this. Does she know yet?’
‘As her friend, and because I know you care for her, I was hoping you would help her through this.’
‘Do you think I’m OK with you arresting Thane?’
He doesn’t reply, but looks at me with gold eyes that know more than they’re saying. No. I shrink back and start pacing the pebbled driveway. He can’t know about the message Skinner brought me from Prince Luca. No way. He can’t.
Man, arresting Thane sucks.
I thought it was bad enough that I had to die to save my mother’s soul, but Prince Luca’s twist on our deal releases me from death as long as I break up Thane and Ebony before she turns eighteen.
Maybe this is not so bad after all. Maybe Michael and his soldiers are doing me a favour.
4
My heart is beating too fast. It slows down for a few seconds before galloping off again as Nathaneal’s words go round and round inside my head.
Michael is here to arrest me.
We ride the horses back to the stables where Nathaneal insists on cooling them down. He puts his hand over mine to help me hold the brush when he sees how badly my hand is shaking. ‘Everything is going to be all right, I promise you.’
We’ve already discussed how there’s nothing we can do to stop this, how he has no choice but to go with Michael and answer the charges being made against him.
And now everything is moving too fast.
We walk outside to find Jordan racing across the yard towards us. Breathless and panting, he says, ‘Michael’s come to arrest you. I can’t believe they’re doing this.’
Nathaneal embraces Jordan, rubbing his shoulders with open palms and injecting calm pulses into him. ‘You have to be strong now, Jordan. I’m counting on you.’
‘What’s going to happen to you? Those dudes with Michael are massive. Will they hurt you?’
Nathaneal gives him
that
look, the one that reminds us both of the power we know he has in his hands. It almost makes us laugh. But that’s the point, I suppose.
Jordan has the same thought. ‘Is that it? Are they here because you used your secret power to save Ebony?’
I inhale a deep breath, determined to stay strong. And then I see the soldiers. They bring me to a complete stop. I cover my mouth with my hand before anyone notices my shocked gasp. ‘They make Michael look small.’
‘Don’t be alarmed by their size,’ Nathaneal says, sliding his arm round my waist. ‘They’re an angelic order called the Thrones. One of the largest and strongest of the nine orders, they’re trained to be soldiers from infancy. They have amazing stealth and are light on their feet. Try thinking of them simply as soldiers doing their job.’
‘Nathaneal, is there something you’re not telling me?’
He sighs. ‘I had hoped, being away, the courts would hold off until we could return to Avena together.’
Except I didn’t return and you wouldn’t leave without me.
I glance up into his face. ‘Are you saying you knew this could happen, and you didn’t tell me?’ This is hard to take. ‘What else are you keeping from me?’
He turns to me and cups my face with both his hands, tilting my head up so he can look into my eyes. ‘There is nothing else. Sweetheart, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to pressure you into returning to Avena before you were ready. And I wanted to save you from worrying about a situation that might not have arisen. I should have known the courts would not wait. I wanted to believe they would so I didn’t have to return to Avena without you. It was foolish because I’ve made things worse. I’m sorry, Ebony.’
I lay my hands over his. ‘I can see how you were trying to protect me, but if I’m an angel . . . You need to trust me to handle stuff like this. And humans live with disappointment too. But when you do something like this it confuses me.’ Removing his hands, I take a step back. ‘I need to know you believe in me completely or how will I make the leap from thinking I’m a human to believing I’m an angel? I’m trying, Nathaneal, but secrets don’t help.’
He stares at me for a long moment before his face collapses under the heavy weight of remorse. ‘I’m so sorry, my love.’
I can’t stay mad at him when his heart is pouring out through those open and honest eyes, so I step back into his arms. A more comforting place to rest my head can’t possibly exist. He plants a tender kiss on my forehead, and I tell him, ‘I don’t want you to go. Amongst your own kind, you’ll forget me.’