Awakened Page 18

  He grimaced. “I wasn’t hungry.”

  Yeah, right. I looked around the room at the pages of tabloid newspaper scattered on the floor around his rocking chair. The last time he couldn’t eat was because he was worried about me on the morning of my first day in junior high. Before then, he’d homeschooled me. I remember how he sat across from me as I ate my breakfast, kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to go as he tore through the various magazines he often read. I was tempted to ask him why he allowed me to go out with Bran when it bothered him so much.

  No, I should be happy and leave well enough alone. He carried his food back to his chair and dug in with gusto. I didn’t speak until he placed the empty plate on the side table. “So what did you do while I was gone?” I asked in a casual-like way.

  “Searched for any unusual reports in the newspapers.”

  I picked up one sheet and read the headline, “‘Zombies Attacked People in Baja, Mexico.’ Do you really believe there’s any truth to such stories?”

  “Ninety-nine percent of the time. Whatever escapes the radar of the tech guys at the High Council offices tends to end up in the tabloids. We take care of the demons responsible before the incidents work their way into more respected newspapers, air waves or television. With information flow on the Internet, it’s even harder to contain incidents like that. I can’t remember the number of times I’ve erased memories or had planted new ones.”

  I stared at him with slack jaw. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. You sure you don’t want something to drink while we talk?” He sipped his orange juice and eyed me with a slight frown.

  “I’m okay, Grampa. No, actually, just one thing.” I ran to my bedroom and grabbed a throw blanket. I left my hoodie in the truck and was feeling the chill now that I didn’t have Bran’s coat to warm me. Back at the couch, I curled up under the thick, warm furry coverlet and tucked it around me. I looked at Grampa and waited

  He put his glass down. “What is it you want to know?”

  I shook my head. Now that I was about to get some answers, I wasn’t sure where to start. “Is it true Grandma and Mom weren’t allowed in Xenith?”

  He sighed. “Yes and no. Marriage between our people and humans is frowned upon since our forefathers broke that particular law, but we’re allowed to petition the circle if we fall in love with a human. I loved your grandmother and couldn’t imagine not having her in my life. The circle gave their approval, but the decision, like many we make everyday, comes with a penalty.”

  He paused as if to let the point sink. I couldn’t help wondering if he was warning me about my friendship with Bran. I scrunched my lips and waited for him to continue.

  “It’s true that non-Guardian spouses are not allowed on the island, but Flora, your grandmother, didn’t care about that. Her only concerns were always me and Tatiana. She was happy when Tatiana showed signs of having powers at sixteen. We couldn’t hide from her who we are and what I did for a living. Like most Nephlings, once Tatiana showed that she had powers, she could go to Xenith whenever she liked. Your mother might not have had enough to be a Cardinal, but it was enough. Yes, she could use telepathy like any pure Guardian child, but her clairvoyance abilities were exceptional.”

  I frowned. “What’s clairvoyance?”

  “The ability to see things from faraway.”

  Cool. I leaned forward, my gaze not leaving his face. “So Mom visited Xenith?”

  A tiny smile touched Grampa’s lips. “No. I would have loved for her to visit, see where I was born, but once she heard that your grandmother couldn’t go, she refused to go, too. Your mother was a very stubborn young lady.”

  Way to go, Mom. I wished I had her spirit. As for Kim, she’d lied. I couldn’t wait to tell her to shut her trap about my family. “Uh, so what was your penalty for marrying grandmother?”

  His mouth turned down at the corners and his eyes narrowed. “It was selfish of me to expect her to accept our differences. Watching the light in her eyes dim and her spirit wane as years went by while she aged and I didn’t was my punishment. Towards the end…,” he paused, ran a hand over his long, graying hair and dragged air into his lungs. “She couldn’t even look at me.”

  He mumbled the last sentences, but I heard him. Stabs of pain rained on my heart. To love like he did and then lose it all must have been soul-crushing. Tears crested in my eyes and spilled over. Grampa’s eyes were bright as he reached for my hands.

  He gave them a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. For forty years, we had the time of our lives. So much love, so much laughter. I made sure she was the happiest woman alive.”

  I laughed through tears, knew he was trying hard to be upbeat for my sake, but I was an empath like him. With ours hands linked, I could feel his pain, his heart aching for her even now.

  He patted my hand, nodded. “Let me make us something to drink.” His voice broke, but he tried to cover it with a cough. “I’m parched.”

  My heart ached for him. He walked to the kitchen and opened the cupboards. We both needed the time to compose ourselves. I swiped at my cheeks, questions zipping in my head. Where did Mom meet my father? Why wasn’t I with her when she and Grandma had that fatal traffic accident? I looked up to find Grampa adding powdered chocolate mix to our drinks, his eyes on me.

  “You want to know about Tatiana.” It came out as a statement, not a question.

  I pretended not to be desperate for more information on my mother and shrugged. “We can talk some other time if you prefer.”

  He carried the steaming mugs to where I sat, gave me a cup and took his seat. He sipped his drink. I couldn’t bring myself to drink mine. I set it on a side table and focused on him.

  “Your mother was brilliant. She spent years getting one degree after another. Communications. Computers. Finance. She attended the top universities, Stanford undergraduate, Yale and Cornell for her masters. She could have been anything she wanted to be, but she liked new challenges. She spent years traveling and doing odd jobs here and abroad. At last, she joined the African High Council in Johannesburg. We thought she’d settle down there, but she transferred to Australia then to South America.”

  “She must have inherited the gypsy wanderlust from Grandma,” I teased.

  Grampa laughed. “That’s what your grandmother used to say. While in South America, she fell in love with a young Civilian Guardian and got engaged. She was about to bring him home to visit us when she called. The engagement was off. His family was not sure marrying a Nephling was the right thing to do.” Grampa blinked and cleared his throat.

  My heart strained to keep beating at a steady pace, but a chill streaked down my spine. “Was he my—?”

  “No, he wasn’t your father. But after that, your mother decided she didn’t want to work for the council anymore. She disappeared. We heard from her on and off, but she didn’t come home for years. And when she did, she had you.” Grampa swallowed another mouthful of his drink and smiled. “You brought light back into your grandmother’s eyes.”

  “So you never met my father?”

  “Sadly, no.”

  I shook my head, not understanding. “But you always said he was a wonderful man who made Mom happy.”

  “The few times your mother called, she sounded happy.”

  “But?” He stared at his cup for a very long time as though deciding how much to tell me. “Don’t hold anything back, Grampa. I need to know instead of hearing other people’s version of what happened.”

  He put his drink down, rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers. His gaze locked with mine. “When your mother returned with you, she’d changed. She was withdrawn. She moved in with Janelle and became a recluse. I couldn’t reach her, your grandmother couldn’t reach her, and even Janelle said Tatiana never discussed where she’d been those past years. She spent her waking moments with you.” He paused, released a breath. “I was away that day.”

  “The day of the accident?” I asked. Grampa�
��s lips pinched, and his eyes became shadowed. When he didn’t speak, my heart lurched. “Grampa?”

  “I know I’ve always said that your mother and grandmother died in a traffic accident.” He measured his words.

  I nodded.

  “That’s not true.”

  My heart slammed with dread.

  Grampa looked at me with eyes that begged for understanding. “We lived in New England at the time, but we, the Cardinals Guardians, were in California fighting wildfire demons. I thought they were safe under the Council’s protection, but Coronis’ demons attacked our enclave. Other Guardians fought back. Flora couldn’t. She had no powers.” He paused, shook his head.

  I wanted to tell him to stop, ease the pain apparent in his voice, but I couldn’t speak. I had to know the truth. A lump swelled in my throat, suffocating me. Grampa never wanted to discuss the “accident” that took my mother and grandmother. I thought the pain was too much for him to bear, the wounds too fresh. Now I understood he couldn’t tell me the truth until I got my powers.

  “Tatiana used her clairvoyant powers and saw them attack Flora.” His voice broke. “But by the time she teleported home, your grandmother was gone. Your mother didn’t stand a chance against the demons. They drained her psi energy. Without it, we can’t survive—and no Guardian healer can ever reverse such an attack. We were alerted, but when I got home, Tatiana was barely hanging on. She had just enough strength left to telepath to me what happened and to ask me one thing, to keep you safe.”

  Beads of sweat dotted Grampa’s forehead and his breathing was labored, but what sent my heart plunging to my feet were the tears. They swelled in his eyes, turning his dark eyes into pools of misery. I gulped.

  “I didn’t protect them. I failed my only child and my Flora,” he whispered, his voice shaking.

  My vision blurred as tears raced down my cheeks. What should I say? I kicked off the blanket, jumped up and rushed to his side. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him tight. For a moment, grief locked my throat in a chokehold. I pressed my cheek against his head and rocked him, each shake of his powerful shoulder a jab to my heart.

  “It wasn’t your fault. The council should have been watching Grandma. They are the ones who failed to protect her, not you.” My voice grew firmer. “You kept the promise you made Mom. You kept me with you in your travels, homeschooled me and trusted only those closest to you with my safety.”

  I talked and talked until Grampa patted my arm. “I’m sorry I’m being such an old goat.”

  “No, it’s my fault for always pushing for answers.” I knelt down by his chair and looked into his red-rimmed eyes. “I didn’t mean to dredge up painful memories for you, Grampa. I just…needed to know the truth so people don’t blind-side me with lies about our family.”

  He reached out, cupped my cheeks and smiled. “You have you grandmother’s fortitude and your mother’s stubbornness. You’ll need both in the years to come. But don’t ever lose your innate sweetness.

  I smiled, or attempted to. “You really think I’m like Mom and Grandma?”

  “Absolutely. You’re the great grandchild of the King of the Gypsies.”

  For the next thirty minutes, Grampa talked and I listened. He covered how he and Grandma met, their courtship, the bride price he paid for her hand in marriage to the years he lived with her family. When he stopped, the twinkle was back in his eyes and a smile danced on his lips.

  I leaned over and kissed his temple. “Go on to bed, Grampa. I’ll clean up.” I indicated the newspaper on the floor, the cups and plates.

  “I think I’ll do that.” He patted my arm and got up.

  “Love you, Grampa,” I added as he walked away.

  “Same here, sweetheart. Don’t stay up too late. It’s after ten.” The door closed behind him.

  I picked up the papers from the floor, hand washed all the cups and the dishes when I could have put them in the dishwasher, mopped the surfaces in the kitchen, the living room.

  In my room, I rearranged my desk and then my closet, color coordinating my shirts, skirts and pants. I wanted to mourn the deaths of my mother and grandmother, but my tears refused to fall. Something I couldn’t explain settled deep inside of me and refused to dislodge.

  At last, I slid between the sheets. With the comforter pulled to my chin, my room lit by the dim nightlight beside the door, I admitted what was bugging me. Bran. Did he know about the raid on the Guardians and the demons responsible?

  16. THE MEETING

  It was unusually chilly the next morning. Ice crusted the grass and the fallen leaves by my truck. Goose bumps spread on my skin even though I wore a long-sleeved top and jeans instead of my usual skirts. Kylie, when she stepped out of her trailer, had on plaid skinny pants and a black T-shirt with the word Diabolus plastered above a skeleton couple. The cold didn’t seem to bother her at all.

  She slid beside me and gave me an impish grin. “The guy who writes the feature article for the Grizz is down with the stupid flu.”

  “And you’re telling me because…?” I asked as I pulled out of our site.

  “I agreed to help, which brings us to you.” She flashed another toothy grin. “I haven’t told the editor yet, but I want to do an in-depth story on C12, the dojo for the beautiful and the gifted. Can I interview you, the newest member of the elite team?” She thrust a rectangular electronic gadget under my nose. “For the record, are the instructors hot?”

  Sizzling. I wrinkled my nose. “Old.”

  “Eew.”

  “Exactly.” I exited Motel 6 parking lot and entered the highway. The last thing I needed was my best friend snooping around the dojo, the back rooms where we trained. “There’s no story in that place.”

  “That’s for me to find out,” Kylie said, speaking into the recorder. “How does it feel to get sweaty with Sykes and Remy? Is Kim a bitch during training? What about Izzy? Does she control everyone?”

  She wasn’t giving up. And there was no way was I giving out information on my fellow trainees. They already had enough reason to not like me.

  “Earth to Lil,” Kylie said, waving her recorder in front of my eyes.

  I pushed her hand out of the way. “I’m trying to drive, you know.”

  “I need help,” she griped. “Save me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to hate me for this.”

  “No comment?”

  I nodded. “No comment.”

  “Stinker. I’ll ask Sykes or Remy.” Kylie put her junior reporter gadget away, then asked, “So? Ready for tomorrow?”

  I frowned. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

  “Duh, the school dance, remember?”

  How could I forget? So much had happened since I promised to go. The excitement of it all had waned. “I, uh….”

  “Oh no you don’t. This is your first dance and I’m not letting you off the hook.”

  Note to self…don’t make promises you may need to break later. “I haven’t talked to Grampa about it yet.”

  “Do it tonight, or I’ll do it for you.”

  For the rest of the drive and most of the morning, I wondered what I’d wear, whether or not to invite Bran. At nineteen, a high school dance might not be his thing, but I’d like to think he wouldn’t care because he’d be with me. The thought improved my moods.

  Mr. Johnson gave us a surprise quiz in pre-calc. Math was one of my favorite subjects, so I think I aced it. We started a chapter on naming molecules and compounds in chemistry, which wasn’t so bad. I’d already memorized the periodic table. Before heading to the cafeteria for lunch, I went by my locker to put books away and found Sykes and Remy waiting by my locker.

  “Why the long faces, guys?”

  They glanced at each other, then Sykes said, “You’re in a happy mood.”

  I shrugged. “Why not. Tomorrow is Friday.” No training for two days. Kylie and I planned to hang out by the pool. “Are you guys coming to the dance tomorrow?”

  Th
ey nodded, but still looked glum. I was used to Sykes’ perpetual smirk. And even the ever serious Remy often cracked a smile whenever our paths crossed. I put my books away then turned and faced them. “Okay, guys. Who died and when’s the funeral?”

  “You and Kim need to talk,” Remy said.

  I rolled my eyes and started walking toward the cafeteria. The guys stuck by my side. “Did she send you?” I asked.

  “Hell no,” was Sykes’ immediate response.

  “We’re a team, and whatever problems we have, we solve them together,” Remy added.

  He had a point. “I have a better idea. She and I can duke it out at the dojo this evening, trainee-to-trainee, and call it a day.”

  They continued to stare at me with sour faces, indicating just how bothered they were by what happened last evening. “Okay, fine. I hate holding grudges and I need to set Kim straight on a few things. Unless you want me to come now, I’ll join you guys after I eat.” I noticed the girls often came to the cafeteria late and rarely ate anything. I assumed they went home for lunch first.

  Remy patted my shoulder. “I’ll let the others know.” He disappeared down a hallway. Sykes continued with me to the cafeteria. He and Remy ate with a bunch of jocks.

  “So how come you’re in such a happy mood?” he asked.

  Last night flashed in my head. The flight. The kiss. How could I not be happy? He must agree to take me to the dance. “I’ve never been to a school dance before.”

  “No kidding. You’re going to be very surprised.” We stopped by the cafeteria entrance. “Your friends are already at a table.”

  Sure enough, I spied Kylie, McKenzie and Amelia. “Kylie’s doing an article on the dojo, so be prepared when she ambushes you with her recorder.”

  Sykes stiffened. ”You didn’t tell her anything, did you?”

  I threw him an annoyed look. “What do you think?” I walked away before he could answer, got my food and joined the others. Before long, our table was full with the usual group. The girls were discussing what they planned to wear when I looked up and gasped. The conversation at our table became an insignificant background buzz.