Refracted (The Celadon Circle Book 2) (10 page)

“Nope.”

“Can I make some more?”

A tic jumped under Brody’s eye and Quinn smirked. “Help yourself.”

Quinn had barely made it to the door when he heard, “Why are you being such a dick?”

He turned around. “It’s just coffee, dude. What’s the matter, don’t know how to measure the water? Turn on the machine? Need me to hold your hand?”

Brody flipped him off.

Quinn laughed. “Oh my, such a rude gesture. I’m crushed, really.” He walked to the table and slammed the thermos down. Quicker than fear, Quinn spun the boy’s chair around and leaned over him. “Why don’t you tell me why your daddy’s really here?”

Swallowing hard, Adam’s apple rising and falling like the Nasdaq, Brody said, “You know why. We want to help find your sister.”

The birthmark flamed and changed color.

“That’s a lie,” Quinn’s grip tightened on the chair by Brody’s head. “Listen closely,
boy
. I just gave you a chance to come clean. I won’t offer it again.”

He stayed in Brody’s face, not moving, not blinking, until the boy lowered his eyes. Quinn shoved away, nearly toppling the chair and grabbed his thermos.

“What the hell, man?! What’s your problem?”

“My problem,” Quinn answered, walking away, “is fucktards messing with my family.”

It was mid-day by the time he finished tending to the cattle. Quinn drew the task out as long as possible and then cleaned the barns. Nathan helped roll his Charger onto the trailer and store it in Quinn’s shed. He intended to grab a bite and work on it for the remainder of the evening. 

A crack of thunder announced the arrival of the storm. It had positioned itself over the farm all day like a waiting assassin. Lightning sliced open the sky and rain fell in torrents. Quinn walked slowly to the porch, letting the cold water wash away the layers of dirt, sweat, and anxiety.

Casen met him on the porch. He was silent as Quinn kicked off his boots and stripped down to his boxers.

“Are you gonna help us find Jordan or not?”

Quinn laid his clothes over the porch swing. His anger, which had waned during the long hours of work, caught and flared once more.

“You help Jordan your way; I’ll help her my way.”

“And what way is that, Quinn? Did you receive a revelation while shoveling cow shit today?” His uncle tipped his hat back and regarded him like one would a four-year-old who’d gotten too big for his britches. “Admit it; you have no idea how to get your sister back…but Lucas does. Why don’t you at least hear him out.”

“No.”

“Quinn–”

“No.” He jiggled the storm door and then yanked it open when it stuck. “Lucas is going to screw you over, just wait and see. Someone has to come up with a plan – a real one – while he has you hunched over like Seattle Slew.”

Casen looked out at the trees and Quinn immediately regretted his choice of words. “Uncle Case, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that I can’t understand how you –
you
, of all people – can’t see that this is some sort of scam.”

Casen calmly turned to his nephew and punched him in the face. Quinn’s head rocked back and his eye burst in excruciating pain. Casen had hands as large as two by fours and twice as hard.

“You must have forgotten who you’re talkin’ to. Consider that a reminder.”

Point taken, Quinn followed his uncle inside.

<><><>

The house was quiet. Quinn spent most of the evening underneath the hood of his car. He didn’t get much work done with his one good eye (the one Casen punched was swollen like a plum and had the purple color to match), but at least it was peaceful. The rain hammering against the tin roof, Toad the Wet Sprocket playing in the background, and the familiar scents of motor oil, sanding dust, and rubber from the tires felt more like home to him than the farmhouse. The little barn was Quinn’s safe place – a getaway where he could lose himself in normality and create something beautiful instead of destroying something ugly.

After grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, Quinn went in search of his brother. He checked Nathan’s room and the study with no results. He didn’t see anyone else, either. No cars were missing, so that only left the basement where they stored weapons.

From the concrete stairs, Quinn heard several voices. The basement was partitioned off into separate rooms, most padlocked and warded. Toward the back, underneath the kitchen, was the only open area. They normally used it to store extra household items like cleaners, paper towels, and spare light bulbs. Tonight, it was being used for a different purpose.

A Devil’s trap, also known as The Key of Solomon, had been chalked on the floor in the middle of the room. Surrounding the crudely drawn circle, which enclosed a pentagram and several symbols, Nathan, Caleb, Brody, and Uncle Case all held shotguns. Lucas stood at the northern point of the pentagram with an open book in his hands.

A Devil’s trap is used to capture and incapacitate demons. There are several types; some more complicated than others. The traps can be placed just about anywhere and drawn with mediums such as chalk, paint, marker…but one drawn in blood is the strongest. Once a demon steps inside the circle, they can’t escape as long as the trap remains intact. It renders them powerless.

What the hell is an empty Devil’s trap doing on our basement floor?

Quinn, hidden in the shadows, studied the group before him – guns at the ready, aimed at the center of the pentagram, Lucas with a leather-bound journal that looked familiar, an empty Devil’s trap drawn in chalk and easily broken…and suddenly he knew. They weren’t planning on trapping some random demon; they were going to
summon
one.

“Have you all lost your minds?”

He stepped into the light and took in their startled faces. Nathan looked as if he’d been caught playing with matches or looking at a dirty magazine. Lucas, however, didn’t seem upset that Quinn caught him in the process of inviting a demon into his home. Casen’s expression was wooden. As a matter of fact, he didn’t acknowledge his nephew at all, choosing to study the rolls of Charmin instead.

“Tell me this is the result of too much Jack Daniels or an alien encounter.”

Lucas marked his place in the journal Jordan had painstakingly copied with her own hands. Quinn’s fists shook. This was the man who was supposed to help them – help his sister. Instead, he was planning to play host to the very body snatchers she was trapped with. Lucas had crossed a line.

Quinn’s stride was a determined one. His steps were even paced and strong. He only had one thing on his mind and Brody must have sensed it. He moved to intercept, raising his shotgun to aim at Quinn’s chest.

“Either shoot me or get the hell out of the way!”

Lucas moved to his son’s side. “Quinn, let me explain before someone gets hurt.”

Ignoring the elder man for the moment, Quinn pointed his finger at Brody. “Put the gun down before I spank your ass with it.”

Brody laughed. “Big words coming from someone sporting a black eye. Looks like Casen got a good piece of you.” His smile faded. “Now,
you
back off before I mess up the design on that bitchin’ Metallica T-shirt.”

Nathan moved to Quinn’s flank. “You can’t shoot a damn thing with the safety on.”

Brody fell for the ruse. He took his eyes off of Quinn and turned the gun to check the safety on the side. Quinn plucked it from his grasp, broke it open across his arm, and removed the cartridges of silver shot. He then proceeded to knee Brody in the gut and, while the boy was bent over and gasping for air, smacked him across the rear with it a few times for good measure.

Unlike Nathan, who always had his back, Quinn noticed Caleb didn’t attempt to defend his brother.

Smart guy.

“That’s enough.”

Though his words were spoken in a normal tone, everyone in the room stopped and looked at Casen.

“Quinn, turn him loose.”

He let go of Brody’s arm and shoved him towards Lucas, whose face twisted in anger.

“If you ever lay a hand on either of my sons again, I will–”

“Lucas, for the love of God, shut your mouth or risk having your ass whooped with that gun barrel, too.” Casen propped his own weapon against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll deal with my nephew.”

Oh, really?
Quinn thought.

“You–” Casen pointed at him. “If you can’t handle this then go back upstairs.”

Quinn was floored. There were no words to describe how betrayed he felt. His own uncle was allowing a man he didn’t know to summon a demon into his home. As it turned out, he didn’t have to say anything. The look on his face must have been enough.

“We’re doing this,” Casen continued. “It’s the only way to get information on Jordan’s whereabouts and it’s a good idea, too.”

“A good idea?” Quinn managed. “Do you have any idea what all could go wrong? What if the demon gets pissed for being locked in your trap and calls some friends to help? What if it gets out and possesses one of you?” He wanted to scream. “Are the risks you’re willing to take worth that? Hell, the demon probably won’t tell you a damned thing!”

“She will.”

Quinn spun to face Lucas. “How in happy crap do you know what it will or won’t do?”

Lucas sucked on his teeth and Quinn’s nostrils flared. “Because I’ve called on her before.”

It took a second or two for the words to sink in. When they did, Quinn didn’t know whether to beat the man to a bloody pulp or puke. He did what he always did when uncertain about his next move, which wasn’t often. He looked to Nathan.

“Are you fucking hearing this?! He calls on
demons
!”

Before his brother could answer, Quinn asked Lucas, “Why? Why do you call on demons? What kind of sick bastard are you?”

“First of all,” he replied, “I don’t call on demon
s
.” He stressed the plural form of the word. “I call on one demon. As for why, well, she’s handy at giving tips on how to deal with some of the things we hunt.”

“For a fee, I’m sure.” Quinn shook his head. “You are insane. What – you don’t have the competence for research or are you just too lazy?”

The man didn’t answer.

Quinn looked over at his brother. “Are you going to stand by and let this happen?”

“It wasn’t my decision.” Nathan’s eyes cut to his uncle. “I’m just here to make sure everything stays cool.”

“Are you in or out?” Casen asked.

“I’m out.” Quinn swallowed the excess saliva that flooded his mouth as nausea threatened to overtake him. Once again, he focused on Nathan. “I’m going to pack a bag. I’ll take Jordan’s car.” He pulled his twin into a hug and whispered, “Call me if you need me. I won’t be far away.”

Nathan nodded, understanding. Always understanding.

“You don’t have to leave,” Casen said.

“Yeah, I do.”

“And here I thought you were back, son – really back.”

Finally, he looked at his uncle. There was a hint of the old disappointment there. It read like the familiar lines of a road map – one Quinn had memorized.

“I did come back, Uncle Case.” His smile was as tremulous as his decision to leave. “You’re the one checking out this time.”

<><><>

The figure sat on the steps leading down to the basement door from the outside. He smiled at the information he’d overheard. So, they planned to summon a demon to try and locate Jordan – a demon who (according to the man, Lucas) had helped him before. His master would be very interested in learning who this demon was. He settled back to wait for her arrival.

Chapter Twelve

Jordan

Her iPod was fine.

Gina invaded Mazie’s sleep, made her the star of a horror movie she directed for…what? Kicks? Because she could?

No, because she was sadistic and got off on it.

Surrounded in a haze of white-hot anger, Jordan crossed the room without realizing she had done so. She snatched the iPod from the docking station, silencing Sarah Brightman in mid song.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Gina’s voice was barely audible over the roaring in her ears. Power surged, filling her up, flowing to every nook and cranny of her body. Exerting the tiniest amount of pressure, Jordan snapped the MP3 player in half. She squeezed the two parts of the device, ignoring the cuts it made, not feeling the pain. In a dream-like state, she tipped her hand. Mangled pieces and dripping blood showered the pale carpet. It was beautiful in a twisted kind of way.

“Hey, Psycho! I’m talking to you!”

A sharp crack and stinging pain on the left side of her face brought Jordan out of her rage-induced trance. It took a second for her to realize that Gina had slapped her.

“Do I have your attention now, Short-bus? If not, I’ll be happy to try and knock some damn sense into you again.”

The corrosive fury still whirled inside like a tornado, sucking up every negative feeling and thought Jordan had, adding to its power. The beast thumped harder on the bars of the cage. She relished the feeling. Never had she felt so
free
, so unbridled. For as long as she could remember, maintaining control had been a necessity, like breathing. On hunts, to keep the visions from driving her mad, with Quinn. Clamping down on her emotions was part of her morning routine, right after dressing and brushing her teeth. To let go, to just not give a damn…it was a dangerous high. She had to find a balance.

But now, with Gina snarling in her face, Jordan didn’t have time. She pushed the hate aside so she could reply without ripping Gina’s throat out.

“If you
ever
lay a hand on me again, I’ll break it off and use it as a candle holder.”

Gina threw her head back and laughed. “Well, well, well…where
did
this sudden burst of bravery come from? Did you eat Wheaties for breakfast this morning?”

“Why did you do it?”

Gina’s eyes grew big and round. She placed a hand on her chest. “Do what?” she asked, voice high and sugar-sweet.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about! Why did you do that to Mazie? She’s just a kid for Christ’s sake.”

Gina shrugged. “She broke my iPod. I had to teach her a lesson.”

“But she didn’t break your iPod,
I did
.” Jordan kicked a piece of the broken device. Gina’s eyes followed as it landed underneath her desk. “Anyway,” she continued, smirking a little, “who made you queen demon of this psycho summer camp?”

Head cocked, Gina ran a perfectly manicured nail across her bottom lip. “Since you’re the new kid on the block, I’ll excuse your ignorance. Obviously, I am quite special to Aamon. Otherwise, why would I still be here? By the age of 18, his children are chosen for different positions and move on, yet he keeps me by his side. Why do you think that is?”

“Maybe because he feels you can’t be on your own,” Jordan replied, sizing her up. “After all, a Dream Walker isn’t very powerful. I mean, what can you do, really? You have to wait until someone falls asleep to use your limited powers. There are kids in this house who have abilities much more useful than yours. I bet that really gets under your skin, huh?”

Gina’s lips curled like a rabid dog on the verge of attacking. Jordan felt sure this was the first time anyone had stood up to her. She was being served a huge helping of humiliation and it clearly did not agree with her. Even worse was the fact that the truth had been exposed. All the time she spent crowing and using intimidation to mask her insecurities had been a waste of time. Jordan had called her bluff.

“The kids in this house respect me,” she insisted as if not only trying to convince Jordan, but also herself.

“That’s not respect, Gina, it’s fear. There’s a difference – learn it.”

Jordan headed for the door. If she stayed any longer, she would lose the tiny amount of control she’d managed to hang on to. Regardless of how good it felt to let go, she couldn’t lose who she was. If she surrendered to the rage, she’d lose herself to the demon.

“You bitch! How dare you walk into my room, break my belongings, and then climb up on a pedestal and preach to me about useless powers! Big talk coming from someone who doesn’t have
any.
”

A hard shove from behind sent Jordan careening into the hallway. She stumbled but caught herself against the opposite wall. She turned and watched as Gina slowly followed her out, the light from her room illuminating them both – predator and prey. The only question was, which one was she?

“What makes you so damned special, huh? What abilities do you have, Jordan, other than running your mouth?”

From the corner of her eye, Jordan saw barefoot bodies in different sleepwear slink into the hall and the open area by the second-floor banisters. They had attracted an audience. Gina noticed them, too, and smiled.

“Answer me, Miss 24-karat. Why did Dad go through such pains to bring you here? As far as I know, you haven’t done anything extraordinary.” Gina looked around, making sure all eyes were fixed on her. “Hell, you don’t even possess the
basic
powers of a Cambion. For instance, can you do this?”

She raised her hand. Green light radiated from her palm. An invisible force threw Jordan back against the wall. She was frozen in place, not able to move so much as a finger.

Gina made a tsking noise and shook her head. “No? How about this?”

She moved her hand towards the ceiling and Jordan’s body responded in turn. She slid higher up the wall. A scene from
The Exorcist
flashed across her mind.

“And, of course, we
all
know how to do this.”

Helpless, Jordan watched as Gina slowly curled her hand into a fist. Her stomach clenched and began to ache. Nausea filled her. Sweat broke out along her hairline and the back of her neck. She wanted to heave, to rid herself of the intense pain, but Gina’s power kept her motionless. She couldn’t even open her mouth. Bile rose in her throat but had nowhere to go. Jordan choked. Just when she thought she’d die strangling on her own vomit, Gina released her and she fell to the floor.

Jordan pulled herself to a kneeling position and retched so violently it felt as if she were expelling her organs. Through her tangled, sweat-dampened hair, she saw Elliott – another half-sibling easily noticeable in the dimly lit hall because of his white hair – turn and make for the stairs.

Gina didn’t see him, as busy as she was gloating over Jordan’s reenactment of a scene from
E.R.
When she puked yet again (
God, how can anything be left inside to hurl?
) Jordan heard her say, “Who’s useless now?” Gina’s braying laughter rubbed her raw nerves. More acid churned in her stomach and Jordan fought it down.

She focused on the rage, still spinning inside like a mini cyclone. She remembered Aamon’s words about drawing power from her core. Jordan closed her eyes. The hate she felt might be a manifestation of her power, but it wasn’t the source of it. She pushed it from her and looked deeper, closing herself off to everything around her. Soon, she felt it, a calm but continuous energy. It was ancient, timeless. Images suddenly appeared in her mind. The ocean, deceptively serene from afar but teeming with life, busy beneath the surface. Tree limbs swaying, leaves dancing on a refreshing breeze. Air constantly moving, soothing. Tilled earth, rich brown rows waiting to provide life. A roaring fire, powerful enough to sustain or destroy. The night sky, winking with stars, blazing with comets, beautiful colors swirling around planets. Angel wings, pearl white and stunning, crashing to Earth.

Although it felt like hours had passed, it was only a minute or two later when Jordan opened her eyes. She could feel energy flowing through her like water, heating her chilled core like fire, lifting her up like air, nourishing her like the Earth, and it was endless, like the galaxies above. She knew this was where Sariel’s grace came from just as her demon power was the result of Lucifer’s fall.

Now that she was aware of it, Jordan realized how unnatural it felt. The two powers were never meant to be contained in the same vessel. There would never be any balance, not really. Like oil and water, no matter how much energy she exerted to combine them, separation was inevitable. It felt like three different beings shared her body, yet all of them were her.

How in the hell did this happen? 

She got to her feet and circled around the pool of vomit. Gina wrinkled her nose and took a step back but Jordan barely noticed. Instead, she studied the kids standing around them.

They were all so different; short, tall, black, white, Asian, shy, funny, but each had a common bond – they were all Cambions. Jordan was the only one who didn’t belong, and never would. She was human, angel, and demon, but not enough of either to be counted. It didn’t matter where she called “home” – the bowels of Hell, the gardens of Heaven, or a farmhouse in Dixon’s Bluff, WY. She would always be an outcast. For the first time in her life, Jordan looked for her future and couldn’t see a damned thing.

“What’s going on here?”

Aamon appeared in a pair of sweats and white T-shirt, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes squinting against the glare of the light. Jordan had never seen him so casual before. It made him look vulnerable, more human.

Elliott stood behind him, Ivy to his right. She met Jordan’s gaze with raised eyebrows – an unspoken question,
Are you okay?

Jordan nodded once.

When Ivy noticed the second party to the early-morning disturbance, her eyes took on the red hue of her inner demon. She took a step forward with obvious intent to do bodily harm. Mumbling words Jordan couldn’t make out, Ivy pushed another kid aside, the only obstacle in her path, but Aamon grabbed a handful of her shirt and pulled her back.

Gina, delighted with Ivy’s anger, gave her a little wave.

Ivy lunged, but Aamon’s grip was solid.

“Jordan, what’s the problem here?”

Before she could open her mouth to answer her satanic sire, Gina whipped up some fake tears and beat her to the punch.

“Dad, she stormed into my room and broke my iPod!” She gestured to the open door. “Come look. It’s in pieces all over my floor!”

Brow furrowed, Aamon ignored her request. “Gina, during the unfortunate accident earlier, you claimed that Mazie broke your iPod.”

Jordan could see the tiny imps behind her eyes, working feverishly to devise an excuse. Aamon shook his head.

“Jordan, perhaps you can elaborate.”             

She sighed. Jesus, she was tired. All she wanted was her warm bed and eight hours of sleep. “Yeah, I broke her iPod. It was fine before that, though. She was listening to it when I came into her room.”

Aamon massaged his temples. Jordan heard someone snicker.

“Why did you break it?”

“Because she’s a bitch and she hates me,” Gina wailed, running to his side.

He put an arm around her, shushing in soft, soothing tones. The internal fury Jordan had pushed to the back of her mind jumped to the forefront. In her frazzled state, she couldn’t tell if she was angry because Gina was leaving out her part in this or because Aamon was consoling her. Surely she wasn’t jealous.

Was she?

Don’t be ridiculous
, she scolded.
If Aamon’s too stupid to see through her charade then that’s his problem, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her get away with what she did to Mazie.

“I broke her iPod because she lied to you about Mazie, made her feel lower than dirt and wouldn’t accept her apology no matter how many times she offered it, and then took a walk through her dreams and tortured her.”

“You shut up!” Gina screamed. She turned to Aamon. “Dad, she’s lying!”

“
The hell I am
.” Jordan advanced toward Gina, fists tight by her side. “You invaded her dreams. You gave Mazie back her parents and then made her father hang her with a rope over…and over.” She stood toe to toe with Gina, her voice low and menacing – the sound of wrath. “You were there, watching, laughing,
while she begged you to stop.
”

Aamon blanched. He stared at Gina with his mouth half open. Jordan wanted to knock some sense into him. After what she just revealed, all he could do was gape like a fish out of water.

“How many more, huh?” Jordan raised her voice, addressing the other kids. “How many times has she abused her power? Who else has been a victim of Gina’s low self esteem and barbaric pastime?”

Whipping around, she glared at Aamon. “I know
I’ve
been visited by her several times in the dead of night. I’ve been eaten alive, maimed with knives, watched my family die in every way imaginable…” She swallowed hard. “And it happened on
your
watch,
Dad
.”