Refracted (The Celadon Circle Book 2) (15 page)

“Did you find anything?”

Nathan snorted. “Yeah, a ‘condemned’ sign, cobwebs, a possum, and the spirit of a grumpy 74-year-old man who died from carbon monoxide poisoning.” He paused. “The ornery bastard can stay there, too. Brody’s still inside. I ought to leave him – the wuss.”

Nathan’s mention of Quinn’s twisted look-alike made him fume. If that half-wit caused his brother to get hurt he’d give him a scar to match his birthmark. “Are you okay?”

Nathan chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. Furniture started moving and the old guy threw a chair. Brody screamed and hid in a closet. After I checked all the rooms and didn’t find any indication the house had been occupied since the invention of dirt, I shagged outta there and left sissy-boy. I guess he’ll figure it out eventually.”

“He’s probably in there getting his ass kicked by the old man.”

“That’s a possibility.”

Gabe flipped through
The Oraculum
while listening to their conversation with his super hearing. He looked up, eyebrows raised – a question to Quinn as to whether or not he’d tell Nathan the angel was with him.

“So, no sign of Jordan?” he asked.

Nathan sighed, “Nope, no sign of anyone. You know, I expected more from a high-level demon.”

“How high?”

“Yellow eyes.” Nathan answered. “And you know what was weird about her?”

“Do you really have time to get into that?”

“She kept asking where
you
were.”

Gabe lay the book down and gave the conversation more of his attention. That worried Quinn.

“Why would she ask for me? I’m not into the demon scene.”

Quinn pictured Nathan shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t know. She kept demanding to know where ‘the other brother’ was. Lucas finally told her you left for the night because you got mad.”

“That’s strange.” Quinn hesitated, not sure how to bring up Gabe’s reappearance. “Um, I’ve got some news, too.”

He bit the bullet and told Nathan everything, including the name of The Book and his hope that Gabe might be able to figure it out.

“Put me on speaker,” Nathan demanded.

Quinn pressed the button. “Go.”

“Hey, Gabe, welcome back! So you told Michael where he could get off, huh?” Nathan chuckled.

The angel almost blushed. “In a matter of speaking. It’s good to hear your voice.”

Quinn asked Gabe to explain
The Oraculum
.

“My Father created the book long ago. It contains every spell, every definition, every prophecy foretold. It writes itself, which is why it changes. The book records the past, present, and future. Basically, it is the history of Heaven, Hell, and Earth.”

“Holy crap,” Nathan breathed. “But how did it end up in
our
house? Shouldn’t a book that important be locked away somewhere?”

“It was,” Gabe answered. “From what I know, Father gave it to one of his most trusted Virtues to keep safe. How it ended up in your possession is a mystery.”

“Who was the Virtue He left it with?”

“I don’t know. It was before my time.”

They were all silent, lost in questions for which there were no answers. Finally, Nathan said, “Here comes Brody – the pansy. I’ll tell Uncle Case what we’ve talked about when we get some time alone. This isn’t something Lucas and his boys need to know.”

“I agree,” Gabriel said. “In the wrong hands, this book could be a means to end the world. No one other than us and your uncle can know anything about it.”

Quickly, while he still had time, Quinn said, “Nate, watch your back. If you need me – call. I still have a weird feeling about Lucas and his brood, not to mention that nosy demon.”

“Will do. Call me if you find out anything else.”

Over the speaker, they heard the passenger door of Nathan’s Camaro open and Brody yell, “Why’d you leave me? I coulda been killed!” followed by his brother’s voice sounding deadly as he answered, “Get in or I’ll kill you myself, Jerkoff.” He ended the call.

Quinn looked around the better-than-average motel room. Gabe had sprung for a suite with a bed, sitting area, microwave, and mini-fridge, definitely one of the nicest rooms he’d ever crashed in. And yet, he really wanted to be home with his brother and uncle. He wanted to sleep in his own bed, to stop living out of duffle bags, and to work together to find Jordan. The fact that Nathan understood did little to assuage his feelings of guilt for taking off.

As if reading his mind, Gabe said, “Maybe Casen will realize he no longer needs Lucas and his demon and will make him leave.”

Quinn gave a grim smile. “One can hope.”

“Why did the demon inquire about your whereabouts?”

It was a question Quinn wondered about himself. Instead of answering right away, he went to the bar and poured some ground coffee – compliments of Holiday Inn – into the coffee maker. He needed caffeine.

Why
would
a demon be interested in him? Sure, he’d sent plenty of them back to their homeland. It was possible he’d tangled with this demon before. Demons who’d been on the receiving end of a Slayer weren’t eager to help them afterward. The fact that Lucas had worked with this one before led Quinn to believe she had never felt the burn of silver.

When the coffee finished brewing, he placed two cups on the small table. Gabe added enough sugar and cream to make Quinn’s teeth ache.

“And another thing,” the angel said, stirring his coffee. “How did the demon even know about you?” He stuck the tiny, hollow stick in his cup and used it like a straw. “It’s confusing. Do you think Lucas told her?”

Quinn took a sip of his coffee, sans creamer, sugar, or makeshift straw. “I’d like to think so. Lucas isn’t the brightest bulb. It’s not hard to picture him giving personal information to one of those bottom-dwellers and yet…I don’t think he did.”

“If not him, then who? How did a demon know Nathan had a brother and why would she care?”

It was a puzzle with too many missing pieces. Lucas played a part, but there was something else – something important. Quinn hoped he figured out what it was before it was too late.

Chapter Seventeen

Jordan

Aamon was not happy. Jordan escaped to her room after an hour-long tirade that, from the sound of it, was still going strong downstairs. She grabbed a pair of sweats, one of Nathan’s old T-shirts, and made for the shower before Ivy could claim it.

When she got out, her sister called, “Did you save me any hot water?”

Jordan poked her head into Ivy’s room. “If I didn’t it’s your fault for making me wear that leather get-up and failing to mention we would be trekking through a desert in Purgatory.” She stuck her tongue out and turned to leave.

“Hey, get back here!”

Jordan hesitated. She still didn’t know what to say about Xander but there was no putting off the inevitable, especially when Ivy was the one waiting for answers. She needed to talk about the strange feelings she got around Orias’ son. Maybe her sister could help.

“So, he makes you feel safe, like
home
.” Ivy chewed on a strawberry Twizzler. “Are you sure what you’re feeling isn’t raging hormones? Maybe you just need to get some.”

Jordan hit her with a pillow. “I’m serious!” She put her head in her hands. “I’m not saying he isn’t attractive. A girl would have to be blind not to notice those soft curls and dreamy eyes. But from the moment he touched my knee, I’ve felt better than I have since this whole fiasco began.” Jordan looked at Ivy who stared back, the candy forgotten. “It isn’t lust. I felt like I knew him and always have. Am I going crazy?”

“No, I don’t think you’re crazy. The few times I’ve been around Xander, I got a strange vibe from him, too. He’s different, but I don’t know how.”

“What
do
you know about him?” Jordan couldn’t help her curiosity. At least now Ivy understood why.

She shrugged. “They found him in an orphanage when he was thirteen. No demon claimed responsibility, so Orias took him in.”

“He’s a Cambion?”

“Yes. It’s rare for an Incubus, other than Aamon, to sire a child. It’s even rarer for a baby to survive the birth, but it does happen. From information gleaned from the orphanage, Xander’s mother died in childbirth. She had no family to speak of but did have a big bank account. He was made a ward of the state and they gladly took him in…along with his inheritance.”

Jordan thought about her family and the way she’d been brought up. Her own mother had died while giving birth to her. She was raised to be a killer of Evil. There had been no birthday parties, vacations to the beach, or Saturday-morning cartoons, but she’d always known she was loved. How lonely life must have been for Xander. Hell, being raised by Aamon would have been better than an orphanage.

Ivy rummaged through her drawers for clean clothes and Jordan got up to leave.

“What time are we leaving to shop for supplies tomorrow?” she asked. “It won’t be easy buying weapons, you know. Plus, we still have to pack.”

At the door, Jordan nodded. “Orias is getting the more
sensitive
things we need. He’s supposed to deliver them with the car. I guess we’ll leave around ten.”

“Do you trust him? Orias, I mean?” Ivy chewed her thumbnail.

It was more than a passing question. There was weight behind her words. Jordan knew her sister was keeping something from her but decided not to push the issue…for now. She was tired. Still, it irked her so she answered, “I’m not sure I trust anyone.” She gave Ivy a long, hard look before walking out.

<><><>

“You have to take me with you!”

Jordan took another bite of vegetable soup and tried, without success, to ignore Mazie’s demands. Her little sister had tracked her down and hadn’t shut up since. Aamon wasn’t the only one unhappy about her new job.

“If you leave me here, Gina will kill me.”

Okay, that got her attention. Jordan pushed her bowl away and took a drink of water. “Mazie, she can’t kill you. She doesn’t have powers anymore, hon.”

The youngest child in the house rolled a placemat between her slender fingers and whispered, “It doesn’t take super powers to pick up a knife and run someone through with it while they’re asleep.”

Jordan winced. The scariest part was that it was true. Still, she couldn’t take Mazie. The job was too dangerous. “I’ll make sure Aamon keeps an eye on her.”

“Like he did before?” Mazie shot back. “And I thought you were smart.”

It broke her heart to see the desperation, to see the girl beg for her life again and know she was the one causing it. Would Gina really hurt her? Jordan hadn’t seen the tramp since the night before and assumed Aamon had ordered her to stay in her room. Surely he was wiser now and would make it a priority to keep Gina in line.

“Mazie, hunting down this demon won’t be easy. How can I concentrate on my job if I’m worrying about your safety? Please don’t ask me to do this. It’s unfair.”

Her sister slammed her fist down on the table making Jordan jump. Face flushed, Mazie’s eyes glowed emerald. “You know what isn’t fair, Jordan?
You
burned away Gina’s powers.
You
took the one thing that meant the most to her. She’s at the end of her rope – do you honestly think she’ll hang herself with it? Think she’ll bow out and accept defeat? Gina no longer has anything left to lose and you’re leaving
me
here to deal with it!” She shoved away from the table. Tears fell freely and Mazie brushed them away. “I thought you cared but you don’t – not about me. All you care about is getting out of here and being with your
real
family and to hell with us, right? Well, I say to hell with you! Gina isn’t the only selfish one in this house.”

She stormed out and Jordan’s heart ached at the sound of her sobs. They followed the girl up the stairs like sorrowful music. Jordan made herself listen to every single note.

The next morning, fat snowflakes fell gently on the mountain. They took their time, drifting on gossamer breezes, turning the cabin into a Norman Rockwell painting that clashed horribly with Jordan’s mood. The snow had all of the kids talking about Christmas while Jordan was stuck in Halloween.

Ivy reported that the vehicle had been delivered. She and Xander checked it out. The slightly modified SUV had a hidden compartment where the weapons were stored. It would do.

Jordan knocked on the door to Aamon’s study. She didn’t want to talk to him so soon after he’d berated her for accepting a job from Orias. Nevertheless, it had to be done. Mazie’s ballad had followed her into her dreams the night before, conjuring a nightmare where Gina stabbed her little sister over and over while asking, “Where’s your savior now?” Jordan had awoken with a scream in her throat and gone directly to Mazie’s room – not only hoping to talk to her but to assure she was okay. The girl had turned her back to Jordan, refusing to acknowledge her.

Now, doubt ate away at her like acid. Was she doing the right thing by leaving her behind?

“Come in!” Aamon barked from the other side of the door.

Great. He was still in a bad mood. Jordan took a deep breath and walked in.

Her father looked surprised to see her. He paused in his work, as if running scenarios of what she could possibly want through his head. Finally, he gestured to the chair across from his desk. After she sat, he asked, rather brusquely, “What can I do for you?”

Jordan wasted no time. “I’m worried about Mazie and need your advice.”

Slowly, Aamon put his pen on the blotter, treating it like something from Tiffany’s instead of Bic. “Why are you worried about Mazie?”

Jordan told him about the episode in the kitchen the night before, every single word. He pulled at the neck of his sweatshirt when she repeated his youngest daughter’s remarks regarding his lack of supervision where Gina was concerned.

“I don’t know if I should take her and risk her life or leave her and risk her life,” she concluded.

“I see…” Aamon folded his hands on his desk.

Jordan waited for him to say he would ensure Mazie’s safety and that she was out of line for suggesting he wouldn’t. Instead, her father decided to leave that beaten path.

“You don’t think much of me, do you?”

She chewed on her lip, wondering where he was going with his question. As was her custom, Jordan decided to be truthful and hope for the best (which she rarely got). “I don’t think much of demons in general.”

Aamon got up from behind his desk and walked to a small sitting area by a large picture window. He sat down on a well-worn chair and poured coffee from the service on a table beside him. Jordan wondered how many times he’d sat in that chair and stared out at the beauty of the mountains…and if he ever got tired of it.

“Do you have a minute?” He held up an extra cup and she nodded. After he poured her coffee, she sipped it and appreciated the view. A few of the kids were playing in the snow. Brightly colored jackets mingled with the sound of laughter and snowballs. Mazie was not among them.

“I never wanted to be a demon.”

Jordan turned away from the window and found her father looking at her. His eyes were soft, kind, and filled with a love she somehow knew was not for her.

“When my daughter was five, she became deathly ill. Her mother had passed away when she was two from a snake bite. Back in those days, the practice of medicine was archaic at best. The village doctor had not been able to save my wife and he would not have been able to save my daughter, either.”

He took a sip from his cup. Jordan saw it tremble in his hand.

“Tatiana was…my world.” He smiled. “Bouncy red curls, curious bright eyes, and the soul of someone far older than she. Everyone loved her and she loved everyone.

“When she got sick, I sat every day by her bed and watched that vitality slip away. Some days, I swore I could almost see it – her essence being carried up to the heavens. And every day, she made me swear to someday remarry and have another little girl to take her place.”

Aamon looked at the floor and Jordan turned back to the window, giving him privacy to compose himself.

He wiped his eyes with a handkerchief and sniffed. “Tatiana was precious. Even though she was the one dying, her only concern was for me. She was like that – always worried about the welfare of others, even at such a young age. She would bring flowers to someone who was sad or soup to someone who was sick. She made sure to smile and speak to every person we met on our trips to the market. The entire village adored her.

“The world needed my Tatiana. I knew, if allowed, she would do wonderful things with her life. I’d heard talk of a witch who lived in Blackbird wood. People said she could make the impossible possible…for a price. I decided to see for myself.”

The coffee, which had been so good going down, turned sour in Jordan’s stomach. She could have walked out, spared herself the rest of his story, but felt she owed it to Aamon. She wondered if anyone else had stayed until the end. His following words gave her doubt.

“To make a long story short, I sold my soul to a demon and my daughter was cured. I got 15 years before I had to pay up and I made the most of every single day. Tatiana became a teacher, settled down with a good man, and had a child of her own.” He met Jordan’s eyes. “I wouldn’t go back and change a thing, even though I pay for it now.”

Jordan took in the posh room with its decorative wainscot and chair rail, the executive desk carved from a single piece of wood, and the handsome bookcases her brother would sell a kidney for. “It doesn’t look like you have things so bad.”

Aamon nodded. “One would think so.”

“But you don’t.”

“One way or another, demons are punished for their weaknesses – whether they realize it or not.”

“And what’s your punishment, severe exhaustion from bed-hopping? No discounts on Viagra?” Jordan rolled her eyes.

“No.” Her father’s voice was deadly and she knew she’d pushed him too far. Always with the smart mouth. She never knew when to quit. Those beatings from Ira taught her nothing.

“Sorry,” Jordan mumbled.

Aamon didn’t react to her half-assed apology. Instead, he pushed the toe of his shoe into the carpet. Jordan was about to take her leave when he said, “My daughter’s welfare was my weakness. Instead of accepting fate, I sold my soul to save her life and because of that, many more of my children have been taken from me – have paid the price.”

He set down his empty cup and ran his hands through his hair. “I was willing to pay for the sin I committed thinking I’d be the only one to suffer. One moment of selfishness saved one child’s life yet caused the deaths of so many others.” His gaze distant, he whispered, “They die or become like me, and are taken away to live the lives my weakness condemned them to. Either way, I lose my children.”

In that moment, Jordan realized Aamon did care for his kids. His weakness wasn’t selfishness, not really. Maybe it was that he cared too much. Maybe he cared about her.

And she was leaving.

“You can only raise your kids to the best of your ability,” Jordan said. “Make sure they know there are consequences for every action – good and bad.”