Day of Sacrifice (Day of Sacrifice #1) (4 page)

For the second time that day Julian’s wings enveloped her and they disappeared.

The downy protective cocoon that she’d transported in slid away from her as Julian crumpled to the ground.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” he muttered.

She plopped down on the ground next to him, stunned, and took in their surroundings. They were in a field. There wasn’t a single structure or another person to be seen. Anywhere. The landscape consisted of four trees shadowed by the setting sun on the horizon. When Julian heard her father say “someplace secluded,” he must have translated that as “middle of nowhere.” Wide open spaces were so not her thing. She was a city girl with an outdoorsy name, not the other way around. With the exceptions of spending time with Julian and attempting to light her father on fire, this day had sucked.

“Where in the hell have you brought me?” Flora huffed, taking her cell from her pocket and praying there would be a signal. A blank gray digital display stared back at her. “Awesome.” She tossed the phone into the tall grass.

“This is my home,” Julian stated, sounding offended. He stood quickly, staggered a little and then marched through the field.

Flora had never met anyone from the Outer Territory. She thought only criminals and loners lived out here. She hurried after him, cursing that she’d let some of her spoiled Sacrifice attitude come out. “Hey! Wait up!” she called.

He stopped and let her catch up to him. They walked north for a couple of hours, not talking, the landscape not changing except to darken as night came on. She kept a low flame going in her right hand to help light their way, but when she realized that Julian didn’t seem to need it, she put it out.
No use in wasting power.

When they met a gravel road and made their way up a driveway that led to a farmhouse, relief washed over her. She was dead tired. Julian stepped onto the porch and opened the front door. He turned to her, blocking her entrance into the house.

“I’ve never brought another soul here. It was the first place I thought of. There are wards around the property, you’ll be safe here, but if you hate it, we can move tomorrow.” He turned and walked into the house.

She reached forward, grasping his arm. “I’m sorry for insulting you,” she said to the back of his head. “It’s nice here, just not what I’m used to. It’s good to know I’ll be safe. Today has been nerve-wracking and I acted like a brat, it won’t happen again.”

Julian let go of the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders and placed his hand on Flora’s. He turned to look at her. “I may have been overreacting. The transporting has me worn out.”

She stepped through the doorway. “Well, we better get you into bed then.” She cringed at her words, glad for the darkness of the house.

He chuckled. “Oh?”

Her hand slipped from his arm. “You know that’s not what I meant!” she said, bumbling forward into a wooden chair. “Uh, are there any lights in this joint?”

Leaning past her, he took something off a shelf and folded it into her palm. “Here’s a candle, less draining on your power than keeping fire in your hands. We don’t want you breaking your neck trying to walk around in the dark.”

Grazing her other palm over the top of it, she lit the wick. They were in an old-fashioned sitting room, furnished with two wooden straight backed chairs, a worn in rocking chair and an uncomfortable looking small couch. She held the candle up and illuminated the room. On the wall behind the couch hung two framed photographs. She moved in to get a better look.

“Careful with that candle, Flor,” Julian warned.

She pulled it back slightly. The photos were those old-timey types that looked almost like portraits. She was getting the feeling that Julian was a lot older than she’d thought he was. The first photo was of a handsome couple, the man had a broad welcoming smile, and the woman’s wavy blond hair struggled to stay in its bun, curly strands forming a halo around her head. “These are your parents?”

“Yes.”

“You look like your mom,” she said, smiling. The next photo took her by surprise. Two teenaged Julians stared back at her. The boys were indistinguishable from one another. She and Fauna only kind of looked alike. “Wow,” she said, her smile growing wide. “You’re a twin too.”

He nodded. “I am.” He pointed to the boy on the left. “This is me. My brother’s name was August.”

“Ha!” she giggled. “July and August, huh?”

“The plight of being a twin, I expect.”

“What happened to him? Is he a Guardian as well?”

“No,” Julian said, inhaling deeply. “No, he was our Sacrifice.”

“What?” Flora shouted, whirling around so quickly she extinguished the candle. “You used to be Supernatural? I thought Guardians were strictly former humans?” She lit the candle again and waited for Julian’s answer. No wonder he understood Sacrifices so well.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” he pleaded. He did look tired, his eyes showing a hint of age.

“Sure. Of course, I’ll be up all night thinking about you an--”

“Oh?” He grinned.

“That is not what I meant!” She blew the candle out to hide her embarrassment, which was a stupid thing to do because then they were standing there in the dark.

“Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” Julian put an arm around her waist, leading her up a staircase and down a narrow hall.

“Were you a werewolf? How come you can see so well in the dark?”

“No, I was a witch like you. But I’ve also lived out here for a long time, I know where everything is.” He opened a door. “Here’s your room. There are more candles by the bed. I’m just across the hall.”

“Julian?” she asked.

“Yes, Flor?”

A small thrill went through her every time he called her that. “What element did you use?”

“I was a fire user, also like you.” He yawned. “I promise to tell you more tomorrow. I need some sleep and you probably do too.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

 Flora backed up until the bed hit her legs and then swung her hand out trying to find the candles on the table. She touched on a thick glass tumbler and conjured a little fire in her palm to see what she’d grabbed. There was a short squat red candle inside the glass. She lit it and the room glowed with a honeyed light. Pleasant and homey, not the kind of place a criminal or a loner would live.
A real family
. A mother and a father. She jumped about a foot when she saw Julian was still standing in the doorway grinning at her.

“Just wanted to be sure you found your way.”

“Thanks...for everything today, I mean it.” Flora put the candle back on the bedside table and sat down on the twin bed, kicking her tennis shoes off.

Julian shook his head, probably trying to keep awake, and then nodded at her. “My pleasure.” He stepped backward into the hall, pivoted and went into his room, leaving the door open a crack.

She got up and closed her door, also leaving it open a little. Running her hands over her body, she changed her clothes into her favorite flannel pajamas and crawled under the thick quilt on the bed. Despite the fact that her mind wanted to turn the day’s events over and over, her body won out and she couldn’t resist sleep.

Sleep eluded him. He was too keyed up over the day’s events and too confused about the strange thoughts he’d been having about Flora. Or was it Flor? He’d used the endearment that her sister and Aiden had used with her.
Made it personal
. So personal in fact, that he’d been annoyed with her for disparaging his part of the country, knowing full well that she was only acting on what she’d been told. Only criminals and people that didn’t want to be found lived in the Outer Territory. Well, he wasn’t nor had he ever been a criminal.

Julian felt his pulse quicken, not sure if it was because he was remembering the annoying incident again or because he couldn’t help wondering what Flora wore when she slept.
Ludicrous.
He’d seen her naked, for Gods sake. Sure, he’d been more concerned about an extremely intoxicated Aiden going under that pink water and not coming back up, but he’d still
seen
.

He rolled onto his side and let himself think about what he needed to think about so he could get some sleep.
He needed sleep, damn it.
Similar to the way he’d once conjured fire in the palms of his hands, he conjured a picture of Flora wearing a gauzy cotton nightgown in his mind.

Light shining in through the window and Julian knocking on her bedroom door woke her the next morning. “Mmmhmm?” she hummed, rolling toward the door.

“Can I come in?” Julian asked.

“Sure.” She sat up on her knees, pushing her hair off of her face and forcing it back into a ponytail.

Julian stepped into the room, looking strong, well-rested, his face clean shaven. He also had fresh clothes on, a more relaxed outfit of dark jeans and a black and white checked flannel than he usually wore when he was guarding. To say that the look suited him was an understatement.

“Nice cupcakes,” Julian said, nodding at the pattern on her pajama shirt.

Flora blushed violently, no darkness to hide in this morning. “What? You haven’t ever seen a grown woman in her comfy-cozies?”

The smile on his face broadened. “You embarrass easily when you’re sober Flor, it looks good on you.”

“
They
look good on me, you mean?” She looked down at herself and wondered if Julian had some sort of pastry fetish he wasn’t telling her about.

“Not the pajamas, the blush.”

“Oh.” Right on cue her face heated.

He rolled his eyes and sat down at the foot of the bed. The mattress lowered under his weight, pitching her toward him. She caught herself from falling face first into his lap with her hands. On his thighs. At this point Flora could feel her pinky toes blush.
Gods, I need to get a hold on myself. I am a Hamilton. I don’t cower and I certainly don’t become a pile of silly girl goo in the presence of a hot angel.
Julian extracted her hands from his legs and gently pushed her back to the other end of the bed. She noted his complexion was also more red than usual.

Suddenly, he was all business. “Can you conjure food? If you can’t, I can go into town and get you something to eat. It’s a couple hours walk, though.”

She shook her head. “I can change clothing. Fauna’s the one that’s good with food. We always joked that together we’d make one damn fine witch.”

“August and I had the same joke.” He nodded. “Okay then,” he stood up. “You’ll be completely safe here--”

“I’m sure I would,” Flora stood too, “but I’m totally coming with you. If you’ll just point me to the bathroom, I’ll be ready to go in a jif.”

Julian walked over to the window and pointed outside. She went over to see what he was pointing at. Down below in the yard there stood a wooden building with a moon cut-out on the door and a water pump beside it.
Oh, hell no.

“Oh, hell yes,” Julian said, reading her shocked expression.

They set off on the gravel road in the opposite direction than they’d travelled the day before, toward town. “Now don’t get too excited about our destination,” Julian teased. “There isn’t a mall or anything.”

“Please,” Flora said, rolling her hazel colored eyes. “Like I need a mall.” She reached out and changed the color of his shirt from white and black check to pink and lavender houndstooth. She giggled.

Julian shrugged, pretending to be pleased with her fashion choices even if they did make him feel less than manly. He’d made her smile and that was nice to see.

She reached out to him again and changed the shirt back, giving him a once over. “Pastels aren’t for you. You’re more of a classic.”

If she only knew how classic
. “The color of your sweater matches your eyes,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Gods, Flora was going to be dead in two days, he did not need to be noticing the color of her eyes. It was this place, being home again. Being around a woman he found attractive. Not having been with a woman in over a decade.

“It does.” She seemed confused. “Do you, uh, like it?”

He couldn’t even pay her a compliment properly she had him so flustered. “I do.” Julian shut up for a while after that, matching his pace to hers, taking in the familiar scenery of his childhood.

The Outer Territory was a beautiful, stark place. Golden fields as far as the eye could see, set against a clear blue sky. Every now and then a sparse grove of Elm trees. It was a clean, solitary landscape.

“It’s prettier here than I thought it would be,” Flora said, gazing across the field to her left. “Is there water over there?” She pointed to a stand of trees up ahead.

Julian nodded. “A stream. August and I used to fish it for trout.”

“Can we go check it out?”

“If you’re not too hungry. We’re still a little ways from town.”

She stepped into the field and started walking in the direction of the trees. “I’m fine,” she said over her shoulder.

He followed her through the tall grass. “Put your hands out,” he said, demonstrating, letting the grass brush against his palms as he walked. She did it without questioning him. “Simple pleasures,” he muttered by way of explanation. Flora nodded her head.

“Do you have a speech?” she asked.

“Pardon?” he said, even though he knew what she was talking about.

“Something you say to your charges before the procession?” She grabbed a handful of grass and pulled it out of the ground, holding it to her nose and breathing deeply.

“I do. Would you like to hear it?”

“Soon enough.” Flora turned to face him, walking backwards. “Did you learn it from August’s Guardian? It seems like the kind of thing that would get passed down through the ranks or something.”

Julian shook his head. “August didn’t have a Guardian.” If he was going to confide in someone, he supposed confiding in a woman that didn’t have anyone to tell was a good choice. Still, he was walking a fine line with her when it came to family secrets.