Entangled (Guardian Academy Book 2) (8 page)

I don’t want to open my eyes at all. I don’t want to see the bodies on the ground, bodies I just saw die with my own eyes. How did I see through the eyes of the dead faerie, though? Maybe I’m becoming a Foreseer and am just tapping into my powers? Although, from everything I know, seeing through the dead’s eyes isn’t a Foreseer trait.

I wait for my grandpa’s voice to show up in my mind and tell me if I’m correct or not, but all I hear is the memory of the screams as the fey fell to their painful deaths.

Not knowing what else to do, I open my eyes and return to reality.

The sky is the first thing to come into focus, followed by Jax’s face. His sunglasses are drawn to the top of his head, so I get a clear view of the worry flooding his eyes.

“Thank God.” A relieved breath eases from his lips, but worry resides in his eyes as he remains crouched beside me with his hands cupping my face. “Are you okay? You fell pretty hard when you fainted.”

I want to tell him that I didn’t faint, but I zip my lips shut when I become highly aware we have an audience.

The woman standing behind him offers me a stiff smile. She looks a few years older than me with shoulder-length black hair streaked with a bit of red. Like Jax, she’s dressed head to toe in black; only, her outfit includes slacks and a business jacket.

“Glad to see there’s no permanent damage,” she tells Jax as she types something into her phone.

“We don’t know if there’s any permanent damage,” he tells her, leaning closer to examine me. “She could have a concussion. I think I should take her to the doctor.”

“I’m fine.” I force him to move back and let go of my face as I sit up. The field and trees around me sway with my movements, and my stomach churns as the scent of death assaults my nostrils again. “I don’t have a concussion.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” he says, sweeping strands of my hair out of my eyes. “You need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine,” I insist. Then, to prove it, I stand to my feet. “See? Perfectly fine.”

He stands up, too, his gaze trained on me. “Are you sure? Because I’m okay with taking you to the doctor. The academy’s not that far away. It’ll only take a few minutes—”

“Jax, if she says she’s fine, then I’m sure she’s fine,” the woman interrupts. “And if she does have a concussion, there’s not much to be done.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He seems torn, his gaze flicking up and down my body as if expecting injuries to suddenly materialize. “But I think she should go wait in the car while I finish up here.”

“That’s fine with me.” The woman turns to me with a stiff smile and offers her hand for me to shake. “I’m Hadlee, by the way. Jax’s supervisor.”

I inconspicuously eye her over. Is she just a Guardian, or does she have other marks on her? It’s hard to tell without actually seeing the marks, but her skin does feel noticeably cold. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alana … but you probably already know that.”

“I did.” She lets go of my hand, her smile softening as she twists toward Jax. “Check in with me before you leave, okay?”

He nods, his attention still fixed on me. “Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.”

She steals another glance at me and frowns before turning and hiking down the field.

“I think she likes you,” I tell Jax after Hadlee is out of earshot.

“She might,” he says, watching me closely. “Does that bother you?”

I roll my eyes, but the movement makes my head throb. I bring my fingers to my temple, wincing.

His expression plummets. “Alana, I really don’t think you’re fine. When you fainted, you—”

“I didn’t faint,” I whisper. “I …”
I, what, Alana? You don’t even know what happened.
“I think I need some fresh air.”

Without looking at the dead bodies, I make my way back to the road. I figure Jax will stay behind and finish up his job, but instead, he follows me down the path to his car.

I climb into the passenger seat without saying a word, flip down the visor, and cringe at my reflection in the small mirror. Blood marks scuff my cheeks, jawline, and neck, painfully reminding me of how it felt when the vampire sank her fangs into the fey’s neck.

I frantically start scrubbing at the blood with my fingers as tears burn in my eyes. Is it my blood or the fey's? It doesn’t really matter.

For a few minutes, I was her. I felt her pain. I felt what it was like when the blood was spilled from her throat.

“You landed in some blood when you fell,” Jax says, sliding into the driver’s seat. He shuts the door and watches me with worry. “That’s where the blood came from.”

I don’t respond, my fingers moving violently against my flesh, desperate to wash off the blood and the memories.

“Alana, stop.” He captures my hand and draws my fingers away. “You’re making your skin bleed.”

I glance at my reflection in the mirror and note the fresh wounds my fingernails inflicted along the base of my throat. Swallowing hard, I close the visor, highly aware his eyes are tracking every single one of my movements.

“You said you didn’t faint,” he says, letting go of my hand. “If that’s not what happened, then what did?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter, flopping back in the seat.

“Okay … Then how do you know you didn’t faint?”

“Because …” God, how can I even try to explain this to him? And should I even try to explain it to him?

His gaze bores into me. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” I rest my head back against the seat and stare up at the ceiling. “Not when you have no idea what I’m about to say.”

Silence drifts between us, and I shut my eyes. But the moment my eyelids close, red floods my vision, and I open them right back up.

“You know it took me a year to tell my parents I’d been bitten by a werewolf,” he utters quietly. “And the only reason I told them was because they started questioning why I was disappearing all the time. And not just all the time, but whenever there was a full moon. The thing is that I probably could’ve told them right from the beginning, and their reaction would’ve been the same, but instead, I chose to suffer in silence for a year.”

I turn my head toward him, and my gaze collides with his. “Did you feel better when you told them? I mean, were they understanding?”

“My mom was more understanding than my father.” He rotates in the seat. “But even though my father … struggled with my change, I was still glad I told them because they were there to help me through it whenever I was struggling. My mom helped me more than my dad, but still … Without her, I don’t know who I’d be today.”

My thoughts drift back to Dash and the tension he carried when he spoke of their father. Jax’s expression conveys the same stiffness at the mention of their dad, which makes me question just what kind of a man he is.

“How do you know I have a secret to tell?” I ask. “Maybe I’m just acting weird because the rotten stench of death plaguing the air is making me delirious.”

“Werewolves have a sixth sense about these things.” He extends his arm toward my neck and presses two fingers against my racing pulse. “Your pulse has been beating like crazy ever since you woke up. Something’s wrong.” His fingers trail down the side of my neck, sending shivers through my body. “You’re scared for some reason.”

Without removing my gaze from him, I point out at the field where the dead bodies lie. “Obviously.”

“But you weren’t scared when you first saw the scene. Not like this, anyway.” He inhales deeply, and I cringe, wondering what he could possibly smell. “You’re terrified. I can smell it.”

He’s right. I am terrified, a feeling I’ve only experienced a handful of times.

“FYI, that smelling thing you just did is super creepy,” I joke, but my tone misses the mark. I shift in the seat, and his fingers fall away from my neck. “But you’re right. Something did happen to me out on the field. Something bad. Something terrifying.” A chill slithers up my spine as the fey’s memories slink into my thoughts. “I think I might know who killed the fey.”

He startles back, confusion swirling in his eyes. “
What
?”

“I saw something … when I touched one of the fey’s arms …”

“Like a mark?”

“No …” I hesitate, knowing I’m going to sound crazy. But I have to tell him, have to convince him that what I saw is true so we can track down those vampires who slaughtered the fey and arrest them. Although I would way rather go the Keeper route on this and inflict the same pain on them as they did to the fey, that’s not the Guardian way.

Le sigh.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say,” he says, totally lost.

I sigh. “I guess there’s no easy way to say this, but when I touched the Fey’s arm, I saw her thoughts. No, not just saw them, I lived them. And they weren’t just any thoughts. They were the ones she had right before she died.”

It takes a second for it to click, and then his eyes widen. “Wait a second. Are you saying that you saw who killed them?”

I nod, hoping upon hope that what happened to me is some sort of freaky Guardian trait I haven’t learned about yet. “Yeah, I saw the whole thing play out through her eyes.” I shake my head. “No, it was more than that. It was like I
was
her for a few minutes.”

His mouth thins to a line as he presses his lips together. “Wait here. I need to go talk to Hadlee.” He moves to get out of the car.

“Wait.” I snag hold of the hem of his shirt and pull him to a stop. “What happened to me is normal, right? It happens to Guardians?”

“I’m sorry,” he says with grave remorse. “I wish I could tell you that was it, but I’ve never heard of anything like this before.”

My knuckles graze his back as I tighten my grasp on his shirt. “Then I don’t want you telling Hadlee. I don’t want anyone knowing about this, not until I know what’s going on with me.”

“I’m not going to tell Hadlee about that.” He gives a stressing glance toward the front of the car where a group of five or six Guardians are standing around, talking and discussing the case. “I’m going to tell her that we’re leaving, that you’re sick, and I need to take you to the doctor.”

“But you’re not really taking me to the doctor, right?” I ask, releasing his shirt from my death grip.

“No, I’m taking you someplace safe where no one can overhear what we discuss, because if what you’re saying is true … if you saw….” He rubs his hand across his face so roughly his fingertips leave red marks on his skin. Then he gives a panicked glance at the people outside and leans in and lowers his voice. “If you saw what happened—saw the killer—and the wrong person finds out about it …” He doesn’t finish.

He doesn’t have to. I know.

If the wrong person finds out, I’ll probably end up dead in a field just like the fey.

Chapter 9

After Jax leaves the car to go tell Hadlee we’re leaving, I crack the window, slump back in the seat, and try to sort through what just happened. While I don’t know everything about the magical world, I’ve never heard of anyone being able to live other people’s memories. Reading minds, sure. There’s a spell that can do that. But actually living the memory, feeling what the person felt …

I shudder, reliving the awfulness. God, I hope that doesn’t happen often.

This is only the start, Alana …
my grandpa’s voice appears again.
The start of your gifts … the start of your curse …

“
Curse
?” I ask aloud. “What curse?”

Silence is my only answer.

I audibly sigh. “Where are you? And where do you go when you grow quiet like that?”

Nothing.

I sigh again and rest my forehead against the cool glass. So I’m cursed with a gift, but what gift? And if this is only the start, does it mean I’m not only just a Guardian? What lies ahead for me?

Maybe I can ask my parents.

No!

The word screams in my head, but I’m unsure if the thought was mine or my grandpa’s.

I get the message loud and clear, though, feel the severity all the way to my bones. Whatever is happening to me, it isn’t a burden I need to put on my parents, at least until I find out more.

By the time Jax climbs into the car, I’m sweaty, exhausted, and confused. Jax looks stressed out, too, his hair sticking up as if he raked his fingers through the strands at least a hundred times.

“Ready?” he asks, slamming the door and turning the key in the ignition.

The engine rumbles to life, and he shoves the shifter into reverse and backs out onto the road.

I straighten in the seat and draw my seatbelt over my shoulder. “I think I’d be more ready if you told me where we are going.”

“To see a friend of mine.” Once the car is on the road, he pushes the shifter into drive and moves forward in the opposite direction of the academy.

I refuse to look at the field as we pass by it, afraid of what I might feel.

“A friend who doesn’t live at the academy, I’m guessing.”

“Nope. He lives a few towns over.” He steers the car around a Jeep partially blocking the road then presses on the gas and peels out, leaving the bloody massacre in our tracks. “I don’t want to take you back to the academy just yet, not until we find out more about what’s going on with you.”

“And how do you plan on doing that? Because I have no clue what happened to me.”

“Me, either, but this friend of mine knows way more than I do.”

“Why? What is he?”

His knuckles turn white as his grip on the wheel tightens. “I’d rather not tell you until I get there.”

“Well, now you have to tell me or else I won’t go.”

“And how do you plan on doing that? By jumping out of the moving car?”

I shrug. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He heaves a frustrated sigh. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but you can’t freak out.” He pauses, deliberating, and his frustration morphs into curiosity. “Have you really jumped out of a moving car before?”

I hold up three fingers. “Three times, and I have a wicked scar on my thigh to prove it.” I lower my hand to my lap. “But don’t change the subject. Tell me what this guy we’re going to see is.”