Refracted (The Celadon Circle Book 2) (13 page)

Both demons hobbled off and normal conversation resumed throughout the room.

“I take it this happens often?” Jordan asked. “Impressive moves, by the way.”

“Every damned day, and thanks. I’m more than just a pretty face.”

Jordan laughed while Ivy and Sage bumped fists.

A green fire materialized inside a shallow bowl resting beside Sage’s laptop. Jordan flinched, taken aback by the sudden flames. Sage focused her attention on it, becoming business-like.

“Tenura, this is Sage.”

To her surprise, Jordan heard another voice come through the fire. It was feminine and cool.

“Sage, is that the tone you use when answering business calls? You sound like a truck driver.”

“Of course not, Ava; I save my trucker voice especially for sluts.”

Ivy stifled a laugh and Sage gave a one-finger salute to the flames.

“I would ask if you kiss your mother with that mouth but that’s kind of difficult when you’re technically dead.”

Sage laughed. “Oh, Ava, that’s rich coming from someone who has no idea who her mommy is.”

Silence and then, “Tell Aamon the portal is ready.” The fire went out.

Sage motioned for Aamon and said, “I really despise that Swamp Molly.”

When her father joined them, Sage relayed the message about the portal and Jordan’s stomach flipped. She still had no idea what the portal was and where it led to. Her palms began to sweat and she silently cursed the leather she wore. She had nothing to wipe them on.

Aamon walked to one of the elevators. Ivy gave Sage a hug, promised to call her soon, and joined him. Jordan hung back, eyes searching for the nearest exit. There didn’t appear to be any.

Shit, shit, shit!

Sage bumped her shoulder with her own. “It’s cool.”

“I doubt it.”

“It’s no different than teleporting.” She placed a reassuring hand on Jordan’s arm. “I know this whole meeting was hush-hush but Ivy would never lead you astray. You can trust her. You can trust me. We’ve been there and we know how it sucks.”

Somehow, Jordan freed her feet from the concrete blocks holding her in place and made it to the elevator. Ivy grabbed her hand and held it, sending warm, soothing vibrations. The door slid open and Sage waved, nodding encouragement.

The inside of the elevator looked no different than any other. Aamon stepped in and Ivy half pulled-half dragged Jordan across the threshold. The door slid shut and she held her breath, waiting.

The walls, ceiling, and floor faded away and everything grew dark. Jordan squeezed Ivy’s hand to make sure she was still there. Moments later she was flying through what looked like a worm hole in space. There were flashing colors of sickly yellow and orange, and a then a light that grew brighter, bigger. Jordan’s stomach curled in on itself and she ground her teeth, wondering if this was what a psychedelic trip felt like.

Her feet landed in the strangest place she’d ever seen.

Surrounding her was a shaded forest full of foliage and trees. The soft, leaf-strewn ground dotted with wild plants, the invigorating scents of water, rich dirt, and growing things lent an air of Eden. Still, there was something unnatural about it. The woods were too quiet, too
perfect,
like an elaborate trap to draw in prey. Jordan felt the entire place was designed to infuse a sense of security and peace while a predator lurked just out of sight.

As if to prove her point, a blood-curdling howl stained the mock serenity, giving her goosebumps.

“Let’s move,” Aamon ordered.

He didn’t have to tell her twice.

Thankfully, they weren’t too far from a clearing. Jordan had never been so happy to see sunlight. As they burst from the trees, the ground changed from leaves and loamy soil to the gravel-covered alluvium of a desert. Craggy mountains grew like broken teeth from the silt, providing a backdrop for various cacti, desert ironwood, jumping cholla, and other vegetation. The smell from creosote bushes made her eyes water.

“Um…how did we go from a lush forest to a desert environment in the stretch of a few steps?”

“I’ll explain while we walk. We aren’t safe, even here, and we can’t teleport on this planet.”

“Planet?”
They weren’t on Earth anymore?

“Yes, we are on another planet.”

“There are no planets that support life other than Earth.”

Aamon skirted around a joshua tree. “None that have been discovered, no.”

The temperature was scorching. Jordan squinted as hot air blew sand across her face, stealing moisture from her body with every gust. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her eyes felt desiccated in their sockets.

“Why are we on a secret planet? Is your boss so important he requires a different world from everyone else?”

“Not necessarily, but what he guards does.” Aamon stopped and pointed to yet another environment in the distance. This one looked tropical, like the jungles of Brazil. Jordan’s mouth fell open.

“Where are we?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“Purgatory.”

Chapter Fifteen

Jordan

She was in Purgatory.

From a place where the souls of sinners go when they die to a place where those who have no souls go when they die. She’d definitely hit the fire when she jumped out of the frying pan this time. Then again, when did she not?

Jordan expected Aamon to lead them to the jungle she’d seen but instead, he turned to the right and walked slowly, eyes roaming. Maybe he was lost. It wouldn’t be impossible in a place like this.

She caught up to Ivy. They were walking in an area between biomes. Here in this narrow stretch, a cool breeze blew, making the temperature felt more like late autumn. Jordan was grateful for her leather duds.

“Still mad at me?” Ivy asked. She kicked at a tuft of grass and avoided eye contact.

“No, but it would be nice to ask a question and get an answer instead of an evasion.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Aamon looked at them. “What do you want to know?”

Jordan decided to start with the simplest question first.

“Why Purgatory?”

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw a glimmer of relief in his eyes.

“Do you know what Purgatory is?” he asked.

Jordan nodded. “It’s the place where the soulless go when they die; vampires, werewolves, almost every supernatural being or creature except angels and demons.”

She said
soulless
but that was not exactly true. Some supernatural beings did have souls. The problem was that only
human
souls were allowed to traverse into Heaven and Hell. When a person contracts the vampire virus, their soul changes the second they swallow their first mouthful of human blood. The same was true for creatures like werewolves. During their first transformation from human to animal, their souls became tainted, less pure.

Perhaps out of compassion, God had decided that different didn’t necessarily mean evil. He’d created Purgatory to give these non-human entities somewhere to go. After all, you can’t blame the lion for killing the gazelle when it does so only to survive.

“Correct,” Aamon said. “We are here because my boss is in charge of Purgatory.”

“And what? He can’t leave and meet us in a normal place like an Olive Garden or something?”

He stopped outside a gate that glowed with blue light. “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” she mumbled.

Aamon stepped aside and Ivy took his place. She removed a small knife from her boot and made a slice across the meaty part of her palm underneath the thumb. Jordan gasped, but her sister brushed the self-mutilation off as if she did this every day. Who knew? Maybe she did.

The gate’s glowing power changed from blue to white. The door wavered and disappeared. Aamon ushered them through quickly. When Jordan turned around, it was back in place, emanating blue light once more.

A stone path led to a modest Tudor home. Jordan admired the arches on the second floor and noticed the blue light that surrounded the gate enclosed the house in a sphere. Security was tight.

Aamon rang the doorbell then rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, straightened his tie, and brushed at the sleeves of his jacket. He threw her a tentative smile, and she realized he was nervous, which did nothing to improve her own state of mind.

The door swung inward on silent hinges and an attractive woman with platinum hair, eyes colder than the Himalayas, and a scowl studied them from the threshold.

“Just when I think my day can’t possibly get any worse, the universe conspires to prove me wrong.”

Jordan recognized the voice. It had a nuance of a serial killer.

“Hello, Ava,” Aamon schmoozed, kissing her hand. “You’re looking radiant, as usual.”

Ivy rolled her eyes behind his back. Jordan pretended to throw up. “You know, Aamon, you could reach her ass a lot easier if you got down on one knee.” Jordan smiled sweetly up at him.

Ava raised an eyebrow. “Well, this ought to be interesting.” She turned her back on them and disappeared inside.

Aamon rounded on Jordan, grabbing her arm and hissed, “Do not embarrass me.”

Jordan pulled out of his grasp. “I don’t have to. You’re a pro at that already.”

She stepped into the house without waiting for him. Behind her, Ivy chuckled.

Once inside the handsome foyer, Jordan had no idea which way to go. Ava was nowhere to be seen. A formal dining room stood to her right but it was empty. To her left was a closed door – probably a closet. Directly in front was a small hallway. She took a chance.

After passing a set of stairs, Jordan entered the living area, Ivy and Aamon on her heels. Butter-soft leather, polished woods, a grand fireplace, antique tables, and exquisite paintings made for a beautiful room, but it held no warmth. The décor looked staged, not lived in, the type of space that made her uncomfortable. Simply turning around could cause damage to something ridiculously overpriced. Jordan tiptoed to one of the couches and perched on the edge.

Not long after, Ava entered the room followed by a man so perfect he couldn’t be real. Jordan’s internal alarm went off even as her heart raced and butterflies swooped and fluttered in her stomach.

He was dressed casually in a plaid, button-down shirt, khakis, and Timberlands. Jordan’s eyes took in a trim waist and wandered upward, lingering on a nice, broad chest. Full lips parted over perfect teeth. Smoldering eyes with full lashes and perfect brows stood out against wavy locks of dark brown hair that curled around his ears. It took a moment for Jordan to realize he was speaking to her.

“Huh?” she blurted intelligently. Dear God, she wanted to crawl under the sofa and die. Ava snickered from across the room and Jordan felt blood rush to her face.

“My name is Orias,” he repeated. “You must be Jordan. Aamon has told me much about you.”

His voice was as smooth as liquid gold. Jordan suddenly envisioned herself standing before him, shoulders bared, his warm hand trailing down her collarbone. She closed her eyes and resisted the urge to moan.

When the illusion faded along with the feelings of desire that piggybacked along for the ride, she reluctantly opened her eyes again. His knowing smile told Jordan that he had planted the vision in her head. Part of her felt violated and physically ill while another part wanted more, wanted him.

Ivy, seated beside her on the couch, grabbed her hand and squeezed, reminding Jordan she needed to be strong…and that Orias was a demon. She took a deep breath, threw her shoulders back, and glared at their host.

“Do that again, and it’ll take a year to count the blade marks my knife will leave on your face.”

Staring down Orias, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Ava was fast, but not fast enough. Jordan rose from the couch and, without taking her eyes off the G.Q. demon, flung out her hand. With barely a nudge from her, white light arced from her palm and pushed Ava against the wall.

Aamon jumped to his feet but Orias motioned him down. Flowing around the furniture like water, he approached Ava, then turned back to Jordan and raised his own hand. She braced herself, sure the pain he would inflict would be astronomical. Blue and white light swirled around his hand like a snake before slithering to where she stood. Jordan held her breath, held her ground…

…and nothing happened.

It was hard to keep the surprise from showing on her face but she managed – just. Orias’ eyes grew round and he lowered his hand. Jordan did the same, and Ava was able to move, though she didn’t seem too keen to butt heads again.

“Honey, why don’t you go upstairs? There’s some business I need to discuss with Jordan in private.” Orias caressed Ava’s cheek.

“But, Father–”

Father? Ewww.
Jordan wrinkled her nose. It should be some kind of law that demons who looked no older than twenty-five couldn’t have children who looked the same age. It was gross.

“Ava, it will be fine.” When she hesitated, he gave her a gentle push. “Go on.”

Orias looked at Aamon. “You may leave, as well.”

Her father’s eyes lingered on her. Jordan saw a multitude of emotions flash in them. Suddenly, she was scared.

When Orias turned to Ivy, Jordan shook her head. “She stays or I go, too.”

He nodded acquiescence.

“Ava,” he called. She popped her head around the corner. Jordan wondered how long she’d been standing just out of sight. “When you go upstairs, ask your brother to join me, please.”

“Why him?” she asked, pouting.

He merely pointed towards the stairs and she stomped away.

The wait for Orias’ son was uncomfortable. Orias didn’t say anything, only stared at Jordan as if trying to figure out what made her tick. She could have told him he was wasting his time but didn’t want to give the impression that she cared.

Her eyes drifted along the walls, admiring the beautiful paintings. They skipped from one to another and then landed on a guy. He had arrived as silently as smoke and was standing in the doorway, watching her. He smiled. It was friendly enough, and she found herself returning it before she could stop herself.

“Ah, Xander, there you are. Come, sit with us.”

Xander threw Jordan for a loop by taking the seat next to her on the three-person couch even though there was an abundance of chairs and a settee he could have parked on. She glanced at Ivy, who shrugged and scooted to the end of the couch. Jordan went to follow but he placed a gentle hand on her knee.

“It’s okay,” Xander whispered in her ear. “Stay close, please.”

She looked at his hand. It was calloused, scarred in a few places; badges of someone who hadn’t lived an easy life. His arms were strong. Tendons stood out against tan skin and muscles stirred, flowing underneath the Army T-shirt he wore. By the time Jordan took in his short black hair and pure, light-blue eyes, she was on the verge of tears. For some reason, he reminded her of her brothers. Her heart ached. This guy, who didn’t know her from Bob’s house cat and was a demon, acted strangely protective, and for a second, she had the urge to lean against him.

Jordan nodded once and he gave her leg a squeeze before letting go. Surprisingly, she felt the absence of warmth when he removed his hand.

“Jordan, how do you like living at the cabin?”

Orias’ voice startled her. She’d forgotten he was there. Viewing him now, she didn’t find him as attractive as before, and was grateful.

“It’s okay,” she answered. “The woods are nice to walk in. It’s peaceful…”

I miss my home
, she thought. The tears threatened again and she fought them off. God, how could one guy make her so emotional? She felt as if someone had put every feeling she’d had the past three months in a blender on high speed and then poured them back into her.

Orias stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles. Jordan couldn’t figure him out. He obviously wanted something, but what?

“It must get very monotonous, not being able to go outside the boundary of the wards.”

“I manage.”

He smiled and Jordan felt Ivy tense up beside her. Soon…He would tell her what all this small talk was leading up to.

“How are you getting along with your new brothers and sisters?”

She was losing patience. “I like some better than others.”

“So I’ve heard.”

He stared as if waiting for something from her – an apology for what she did to Gina, perhaps? Jordan mentally rolled her eyes and hoped the chair he’d chosen was a comfortable one. He’d be waiting a long time.

Instead she said, “Can we stop with all the useless chatter? Why don’t you tell me what business you need to discuss so we can go? It’s getting late, I’m tired, and I’m ready to get these sweltering leather pants off before they cause a rash.”

That smile again. Jordan got up from the couch and pulled Ivy with her. She had better things to do than sit with a demon while he played Doctor Phil.

“I have a job for you,” he said.

Curious, she sat back down. “What kind of job?”

He crossed his arms to match his ankles. “A hunting job. I’ve gotten word of a rogue demon. I need her found and brought to me.”

Something about this wasn’t right. She didn’t need Ivy’s warning pinch on her arm to tell her that. “You have more demons at your disposal than a politician has brown-nosers. Why not send one of them?”

“Fair question.” He tapped his temple for a moment. “This particular demon is powerful, not to mention crafty. It would be a waste of time and resources to send someone who doesn’t have a chance against her skills.
Your
powers are greater than hers, not to mention you are an experienced Slayer.” He leaned forward in his chair. Jordan thought he looked like a praying mantis about to strike. “Simply put, I need the best.”

Ah, flattery.
She had to admit the appeal of leaving the cabin was immense. Maybe she could make this work to her advantage, but there was still one problem.

“What about the angels? If I leave the cabin, I’m no longer warded against them.”