Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy (36 page)

BOOK: Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy
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I
nod. Jen shrugs.

“Because
she’s the best Concealor I know, and I knew that if I had any chance of being
able to help you I needed her to teach me. I’ve hated every minute of it, but
even you have to admit she knows how to get what she wants out of people better
than anyone.”

Very
true. “You’re not working for her, then?”

Jen
shudders. “Give me some credit, Libby. Sure, I gave her bits of gossip I heard,
but only unimportant stuff that wouldn’t get anyone hurt. I only did that so
she would keep teaching me. I haven’t seen your mom in months.”

“Really?”

“I’ve
been too busy trying to make you look good to deal with her,” she says with a
smile. “You’re a full time job, Libby.”

She
doesn’t know the half of it. Finally my combative side mellows. “Why did you
really come here tonight?”

 “I
… I’ve missed talking to you, Libby. I’ve missed talking to anyone, actually.
Nobody wants to be friends with me because they’re all afraid I’ll write stuff
about them,” she says.

I
don’t admit it, but I feel a pang of sympathy for her. I know what being alone
feels like, and I know that despite Jen’s aggressive nature, she doesn’t lie or
write unsubstantiated gossip. She wouldn’t tell things about a friend unless it
was honestly something important. Not even when it comes to me. Braden told me
she caught him in my room when I was unconscious. She knows he’s twenty-three,
and even though we aren’t sleeping together, it wouldn’t be hard for someone to
make that assumption and put it in print. My relationship with Braden has made
zero appearances on Jen’s blog.

“You
never had to stop talking to me, Jen. That was your choice,” I remind her.

“I
know, Libby. I’m sorry.”

No
excuses. No, my Guardian parents scared me into ditching you. Just an apology. That’s
what I’ve always loved about her. If she makes a mistake, she owns up to it and
takes the consequences willingly.

Jen
frowns and says, “I wanted to warn you about something, too.”

“What?”

“Your
friend, Milo. I saw him talking to this really scary looking guy in the parking
lot last week after the kidnapping. At first, Milo looked angry. I think he
might have taken a swing at the guy, even. Whatever the guy said, it calmed
Milo down. I don’t know who he was, but Milo drove off with him.”

“You
didn’t get a picture of this guy?” I ask.

“No,
I couldn’t dig my phone out of my bag fast enough, but I didn’t post anything
about it, either.”

It’s
a peace offering of sorts. She could have blogged about this meeting and even
painted it as something sinister without knowing what it really was, but she
didn’t. She gave it to me, instead. I still don’t trust her completely, and I don’t
know if I ever will, but the last of my hostility softens. I motion for her to
walk with me back to the ballroom. Jen smiles, and the girl I know so well
comes rearing back to life.

“So,
tell me about Braden. I’ve always wanted to date an older guy. He’s hot
and
sweet. It was so cute when he kissed you on the cheek. You’ll never guess who
asked me out the other day. Lloyd Sanchez. Yeah, it was totally bizarre because
he’s never even spoken to me before, and I haven’t been real popular lately,
like I said, but he’s mega dreamy so I said yes. It was awesome. We …”

In
true Jen fashion, she keeps talking all the way to the ballroom where the music
finally drowns her out. The sight of so many people in the room, Ciphers in
from out of town that Lance has become friends with and a surprising amount of
people from school, momentarily shocks Jen. It doesn’t last long enough. She
starts talking again despite the blaring music. It’s mostly just her talking at
first, but after a while, I can’t resist any longer and join in. I don’t talk
about anything that could get me in trouble, but for a few hours I feel like
we’re back at a school dance, dishing about anything and everything like we
used to before my Inquest turned everything upside down.

Braden
slips into the chair next to me at some point during our conversation. He
doesn’t interrupt. He sits through our chit chat looking rather amused,
actually. This isn’t something he’s ever seen me do before. I worry that it
might make me look childish to him, but his hand only tightens around mine.
There are so many emotions in the room that I don’t dare let down my shield for
fear of being completely overwhelmed, but I wish I knew what he was thinking.
When Jen excuses herself to refill her drink, Braden leans in and answers my
question.

“It’s
nice to see you so happy.”

“I
have to be careful of what I say to her, but it is nice to talk to Jen again.
I’ve missed her,” I say.

Braden
smiles. “I’m glad you’ve made up, even if it is only conditionally.” He leans
in and kisses me. “Have I told you how great you look tonight?”

“Not
in so many words,” I say.

His
grin widens. “Can I steal you away from Jen for a dance?”

“Absolutely.”
I’m out of my chair in an instant, pulling him toward the dance floor.

Braden’s
arms fold around me and I rest my head against his chest. Slowly the music
drifts out of my hearing and is replaced by the beating of Braden’s heart. I
close my eyes and listen. I don’t think there is a more beautiful sound in the
word. When the song ends and the music changes to something more upbeat, it’s
hard not to be disappointed. Almost immediately, though, the music quiets and
the DJ announces that the birthday boy has a special treat for us. Braden spins
toward the center of the dance floor where everyone is quickly forming a
circle.

“Come
on,” he says excitedly as he tows me to the edge of the circle, “you’re not
going to want to miss this.”

“Miss
what? What’s going on?”

“Just
come on,” he says.

We
reach the edge of the circle and I find myself staring at Lance and Hope. They
both look rather keyed up, but by the way they’re just standing in the middle
of the circle facing each other I’m at a loss for why. They don’t have any
shoes or socks on. That’s odd. The DJ introduces them both and ramps the music
back up to full volume. It’s a sultry sound that seeps into my bones in the
first few seconds. Even more interesting is the way Hope and Lance start moving
back and forth, swaying in a way that promises something very interesting. The
whole crowd is mesmerized.

Their
movements start growing bigger, more fluid and meaningful. First it’s their
arms that circle and glide in and out, and then their feet join in. It looks
like they’re going to fight each other, but it’s a fighting style I’ve never
seen before. The beauty of it is more like a dance than anything else. They
start moving back and forth across the circle as if they were warming up. Hope’s
change in outfit starts to make sense as she circles her leg in a wide arc
across the floor and brings her knee to her chest in perfect balance. When they
start circling back toward each other, everyone watching leans forward eagerly,
their anticipation dousing the room.

Hope
engages first, her leg kicking out gracefully at Lance’s head. He ducks with
perfect timing and her foot sails over him and lands in time with the music.
Back and forth they go, taking shots, but not ever landing one. It is sinuous
and fluid, captivating. I can’t even take my eyes off of them to ask Braden a
question.

“What
is this? What are they doing?”

Braden
pulls me against him and leans close to my ear. “It’s called Capoeria, a
Brazilian form of martial arts.”

“Martial
arts? It looks more like a dance.”

“It
is a dance,” he says. “It was created by slaves in Brazil. They combined many different
tribal fighting styles into something completely new.  In order to continue
practicing Capoeira without others knowing—especially after it was banned in
the country—it was taught under the guise of being a folk dance. It’s difficult
to learn, but amazing to watch.”

Braden
did his Guardian training in Brazil. Connections begin to form in my slower
than usual mind. “You taught them how to do this?”

“I
did.”

What
I wouldn’t give to see Braden out there, especially before I stole his talents.
Braden glances at his watch, which I find odd, then looks back at the dancing
pair anxiously. It startles everyone in the crowd when Hope finally makes
contact with Lance, sweeping his leg out from under him. He lands as if
expecting the attack, but pain radiates through his body a second later. I step
forward, afraid he’s been hurt for real, but Braden holds me back. I try to
pull away, but he holds his wrist up so I can see his watch. 10:17 p.m. My eyes
snap back to Lance.

Pain
ripples through him again and his diktats flare scarlet. That seems to be
Hope’s cue to exit. Nobody is watching her as she steps away from Lance, but
me. It surprises me that she slips in next to Braden and gives him a little
shove toward the floor. I look up at him in surprise. He just grins back at me
and slips off his dress shoes and socks. My heart stutters as I realize he’s
going out to spar with Lance. With Lance, whose talents have just been fully
unlocked. Braden has no talents. At all. Panic pushes me forward. What is he
thinking? Hope is there to grab my arm and pull me back.

“Just
watch,” she says.

So
I do. It’s all I can do. Lance kips back up to his feet grinning like none
other. That gorgeous idiot, Braden, urges him forward. The eager tension
sizzling between them makes me groan. “This isn’t going to be the dance version
of this, is it?” I ask Hope.

“This
is going to be awesome,” she gushes. I just roll my eyes. She’s as bad as they
are.

I
look back at the circle and gasp when they speed toward each other. The desire
to cover my eyes grips me as the first kick lands, Braden’s foot to Lance’s
thigh, but the same morbid curiosity that makes people stare at car crashes
keeps me from hiding. One after another, their bodies twist and pull, sending
arms and legs out in lightning fast attacks. Lance is amazing. He’s everything
I ever hoped he would be, graceful and powerful to the point it almost makes a
person cry. What’s really amazing, though, is Braden. I have no idea how, but
he is actually keeping up. It’s nothing like what he used to be able to do with
his talents, but he counters almost every attack Lance throws at him and even
gets a few solid hits in himself. I have wondered if both Lance and Braden had
fully unlocked talents which one would be more powerful. If this is Braden
talent-free, well, I’m pretty sure I have my answer. Lance wouldn’t stand a
chance.

The
raging music starts to slow as the pair begins to tire. The fight turns back
into the dance. Their frenzy slows to a rhythmic hum. In perfect time with each
other, their bodies come to a rest. There is a moment of silence before the
room erupts into applause and cheering. Hope is the first to dash into the
circle. She flings herself into Lance’s arms and kisses him with enough passion
for two people. I laugh and clap for the kiss just as much as the performance.
Lance should have figured combat would be the way to Hope’s heart. Although,
from the grateful nod he gives to Braden when Hope finally lets him up to
breath, maybe he did figure that out.

Deciding
it would be best to congratulate Lance later, I search the collapsing ring for
Braden. He pops up next to me and sweeps me into his arms. He’s sweaty and
panting from the fight, but that doesn’t stop me from kissing him fiercely.
“That was incredible,” I say. “How did you do that?”

“That’s
what I spent a lot of time doing in Brazil.”

I
roll my eyes at him. “I figured that. I mean how did you do that, how did you
keep up with Lance without talents? You were so fast!”

“Aren’t
you the one who said I could still do anything I wanted?”

“Well,
yeah, but …”

“Libby!
Libby!” Jen calls out as she rushes up to me. “I ran into Lloyd before the
fight. Can you believe he came? And anyway, we went out onto the balcony, and
you’ll never believe who I saw pull up. Milo! And he had the creepy,
mean-looking guy with him. They’re coming inside!”

 

Chapter
28

The Right One

 

I grab at Braden and yank
him toward Lance and Hope. Braden is asking me what’s going on, but I don’t
have time to stop and explain. I have to get to Lance and Hope if we have any
chance of making a stand. I almost reach them when Milo’s voice carries across
the room.

“That
was impressive, guys. Really.”

His
mocking applause silences whatever noise remained. He starts descending the
steps into the ballroom with a cavalier swagger that instantly strikes me as
wrong. Sensing the importance of his interruption, the crowd steps out of his
way. My people begin closing in. I keep edging my way closer to Lance and Hope.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Celia doing the same thing, her eyes
wide. Jen is on the other side of us, phone out, filming everything. Milo
reaches the bottom of the stairs just as I slide in beside Lance.

“You
know, you would think the Destroyer would have more important things to do than
throw parties and play fight for her friends’ entertainment,” Milo says.

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