Guardians (Seers Trilogy) (42 page)

A few paces away from me Yuri drew out his gun. He aimed it at my defensively crouched brother.

“Stop!” I ordered, though I knew Yuri wouldn’t listen. I’d attacked him. He didn’t understand my actions, but he intended to follow the master’s orders.

I dove for Yuri the same instant he pulled the trigger. The gunshot exploded the air. The girls screamed in unison, and I caught sight of Patrick crumpling. He’d taken the bullet without flinching.

How did I, at the same moment, both hate and admire his bravery? Was it because I was reminded of his death? I’d never seen him get shot in Ireland, only seen his cold body.

But Patrick had always been brave, selfless. That’s why he’d tried to leave me behind when our father demanded we joined the United Irishmen. And, if I was going to all this trouble of being honest, it was why he’d become a Guardian in the first place. To protect me.

A memory I hadn’t recalled for so long flooded my mind in flashing images. The big yew tree behind Father’s church. A dare to jump from the highest limb and onto the roof; Patrick following me, undaunted by his fear of heights. The two of us fighting, though outnumbered, to defend each other.

Patrick had always been there for me. Even when I’d been an idiot.

I growled as I reached Yuri, knocking the warm pistol from his hand with a fluid swipe I’d used hundreds of times to disarm my enemies. Yuri lurched back a step and our eyes met. We both sank into practiced positions, each of us poised to attack, neither of us wanting to make the first move.

It didn’t escape my attention that I’d managed to put myself in front of the twins. I was their protector, now that Patrick was down.

“Patrick!” Jenna or Josie cried out in delayed shock. The shout was followed by a wounded groan.

I kicked Yuri’s gun back with my heel, hoping it wouldn’t hit Patrick but put it within reach in case he could recover enough to use it. I also hoped the twins knew enough about guns to leave it alone.

Yuri’s lip curled. “The Demon Lord will not forgive you for this, Far Darrig. He’ll personally send you back to Prison for this treachery!”

“I’ll save him a spot.”

“What’s happened?” Yuri snarled. “What are you
doing
?”

“Sean!”

It might have been Jenna. And though I didn’t turn, my eyes flickered.

It was the distraction Yuri had been waiting for. He kicked, foot landing on my left kneecap. There was a horrible crack and my whole leg flared in vivid pain. I limped precariously but exaggerated the stagger. Yuri fell for the ruse, taking a step closer. I swung my healed leg up and buried my foot in his stomach, hard, using his forward momentum against him. He nearly buckled but managed to keep on his feet by stumbling back.

“Sean!” Jenna repeated, frightened.

“Get out of here!” I shouted, worried she might try to approach me and get in the way. I lunged at Yuri before he could fully straighten.

Yuri was good—he knew how to fight in close quarters. Hand-to-hand combat was a specialty of his. But that was fine; it was a specialty of mine. And I was better because I had emotion on my side. The image of him shooting my brother, hurting the two girls who’d called for
my
help . . . I was unstoppable.

We were both covered in blood, but I didn’t have a way to kill him. I didn’t have a knife, since Demons don’t generally carry the only weapon that had the ability to kill them. I only had my gun, and I couldn’t keep him down long enough to bring it out, not that it would be a permanent solution.

Too late I realized Yuri had a drawn knife. It went against a Demon’s basic instinct to have a knife, so I hadn’t imagined he’d be carrying one. But then Demons were so treacherous you never knew who was going to try stabbing you—it could be a good idea to have one on hand, in case another Demon attempted to double-cross you.

I guess I should have realized a killer as ruthless and practiced as Yuri would trust no one. Not even me, the Demon Lord’s right hand.

His dagger was buried in my shoulder a split second later, but only because I shifted at the last possible second—it should have landed in my heart.

Still, it was painful. It froze my body, allowing Yuri to kick away from me. He rolled to his knees, a foot away from where I lay on my side, bleeding. Eyes blazing, he reached for a second blade, ready to end me.

His hand patted over empty space. He looked down, shocked that it was gone.

“Looking for this?” Patrick grunted.

I raised my head, looking over at my brother with a wince. His eyes were dark. His grim face was smeared with blood and he was facing Yuri with the handgun extended. In his other hand he clutched a knife, one he’d either snatched from Yuri’s belt when we’d rolled nearer to them or one he’d picked up from the floor, lost during the scuffle.

Yuri’s mouth twitched angrily. He leaned toward me, maybe thinking he could get the dagger he’d buried in me so he could finish the job.

Patrick was faster. Another gunshot blasted Yuri backward. He tripped over me and fell onto his back. I jerked the knife out of my shoulder and heaved myself up. I saw Yuri’s eyes widen, then I shoved the bloody knife into his heart. His head lolled, his expression softened in death.

There was a short silence in the barn. I didn’t dare twist around right away. I didn’t want to see Patrick level that gun at me. I didn’t want him to look at me like I was a monster.

Which was stupid, because that’s exactly what I was. It didn’t matter that I could
feel
again or that I’d rushed to defend the twins. I was still a Demon.

Why hadn’t he shot me yet?

I heard whimpering and realized why he was delaying. The twins were still in the barn. He hadn’t taken them out, because he couldn’t turn his back on a Demon as dangerous as me.

I closed my eyes and eased up to a standing position. I turned slowly, not sure what else to do but face him.

Patrick was staring at me, the gun still aimed in my direction, supported by a steady arm. Between Patrick’s widespread legs I could see the twins huddled together on the floor, both of them watching me as well. My eyes flickered back up to my brother.

A strange mix of emotions contorted Patrick’s face: pain, hurt, worry, surprise, hope. I watched him, waiting for him to do it. All he had to do was squeeze the trigger, shoot me to stun me, and then plunge that knife into my heart while I was blinded by pain. It would be so easy. He could ensure the twins’ safety. Why wasn’t he doing it?

“Well?” I asked him mutely. “Aren’t you going to do it?”

Patrick was watching me with a sharp gaze, one that conveyed distrust and . . . regret? So I wasn’t the only one to regret the past. Good. Regret was painful.

Even as the thought entered my mind I was plagued by doubt—I wasn’t sure I wanted him to feel pain anymore.

Patrick took a step toward me and spoke quietly, trying to keep the words from the young girls. “Why? Why did you do it?”

“Because I hated you,” I said, wondering if he’d register the fact that I’d used past tense.

His jaw flexed. “No. Not that. Why did you attack him?”

“Yuri?” I asked, surprised we were even talking about this. Didn’t he want to talk about Kate? About the Demon Lord’s plans? About my desire to kill my own brother?

Patrick frowned. “Yes. Yuri. Why?”

I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. “He was hurting them.”

The confusion was evident in his voice. “But that’s why you came here.”

My words were spoken in an exhale. “They asked me to push them on the swings. They asked for my help . . .”

Patrick’s eyes altered—transformed. His arm gradually fell, lowering the gun until it was pointed at the barn floor. He flexed his fingers around the knife he still held. He wasn’t going to kill me.

My eyes met his cautiously. “Why?” I whispered.

The lump in his throat visibly bobbed. “I’ve never let your stupidity stop me from caring about you before.” A single shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “Why should I start now?”

I
was wrapping a
towel—a makeshift splint—around Jenna’s arm as delicately as possible. It would have to do until her grandmother could return and take her to the hospital. We were gathered in the kitchen of the small farmhouse. Patrick and Jack were covering up a bullet hole with a picture of a lake, and Maddy, a young Seer, was watching me closely, with a healthy amount of distrust. She had a headache, and it had saved her life—if Yuri had found her, he would have shot her like he’d shot Jack. Only she wouldn’t have survived.

“Lilly won’t notice,” Jack was saying confidently, tapping a finger against the picture frame. “She’s going blind, and she’s got plenty of other wall space.”

Patrick just nodded. Yuri’s bullet had ripped through his side, but he’d healed fully, though he’d had to explain a few things to Kate’s sisters.

I stopped watching my brother and turned back to focus on Jenna’s arm. Josie was sitting on the other side of the table, shaking her head, fingering the bruising around her throat subconsciously. “Wow. I mean,
wow
. Why didn’t anyone tell us about this stuff? Patrick, you can go invisible? Seriously? But there’s one thing I don’t understand.
Why
can you go invisible?”

Jenna huffed loudly. I froze, thinking I’d hurt her, but she was addressing her sister. “Because he’s a guardian angel, remember? He told us! He’s got superpowers.” She twisted her head around so she could look at Patrick. “Even if you got a paper cut, would that heal?”

I had to hand it to Patrick. He’d told the twins just enough of the truth to satisfy them. They didn’t know about Seers, which meant they didn’t know about Kate. They didn’t know about Demons. They just thought Yuri was a burglar who’d decided to target the farm. They had no idea their sister was in a hostage situation. They had no idea they themselves were targets. They hadn’t seen me do anything too malicious, so they trusted me. Jack had, of course, sustained injuries, so they knew he was like Patrick too.

“This is so cool!” Josie grinned. “So are you guys really angels? Like, heaven and stuff?”

“Does Kate know you’re immortal, Patrick?” Jenna asked seriously.

He nodded once, but his eyes flickered to me. I knew that once the immediate damage was taken care of here, I was going to be questioned. I would have told him everything now, if the twins hadn’t been present. But it was obvious Patrick didn’t want them knowing too much.

“Yes,” Patrick was answering Jenna even as he stepped closer to Josie. “She knows.” For perhaps the fifth time in the past ten minutes he touched her chin, prompting her to tip her head back so he could reassess the damage Yuri’s crushing grip had inflicted around her throat.

“But you can’t be telling everybody,” Jack warned them suddenly. “Or we’re all going to get in trouble.”

“What about Grandma?” Jenna asked.

“She knows—but you can only talk to her about it when other people aren’t around.”

They nodded again, accepting the terms.

Josie squirmed back from Patrick. “I’m okay,” she protested, knocking his hand away with her own. “What are you going to do with that body? Bury it behind the barn?”

“Of course not!” Jenna answered her sister, aghast. “They’ll take him to the police. Right?” She looked to me for some reason.

I merely nodded.

Patrick cleared his throat. “Sean, are you almost done? We need to talk.”

“Yes. Almost.”

Josie was looking between us, as if really seeing us for the first time. Her tone was almost accusing. “Hey, your eyes are the exact same! Are you related? Patrick, is he your older brother?”

Patrick once again glanced at me, but I intended to let him handle that question. He’d done a great job so far.

Patrick focused back on Josie. “Sean is . . . my younger brother.”

“Really?” Understanding lightened Josie’s expression. “Oh, because he died after you, so he’d be older. Cool.” She seemed completely unaffected by the abnormal qualities of this conversation.

I finished with Jenna’s arm, complementing the temporary splint with a makeshift sling around her neck. She smiled at me, though she still looked a little pale. Luckily the ibuprofen was beginning to kick in, so her pain would be minimized. “Thanks, Sean. Are you . . . ?” She hesitated, as if embarrassed to ask her question. “Are you
my
guardian angel?”

I blinked, taken aback by the question. I could feel Patrick’s gaze, heavy on my face. I knew everyone was listening, waiting. But even though her question was unexpected, my mouth was already moving to form the answer.

“Yes, I am.”

Patrick’s hand pressed against the table, breaking into the timid conversation. “Jenna, you should wash your face. Josie, could you help her? Your grandmother will be back any minute, and we don’t want to unnecessarily alarm her or Lilly. They turned around when they heard about your arm, so they should be here soon.”

“But we can’t tell them about the burglar?” Josie clarified.

Jenna rolled her eyes. “You
want
to give Lilly a heart attack? Come on, Josie—be brave.”

“I
am
brave . . .”

Their voices drifted from the room as they moved to go upstairs. I remained sitting, letting Patrick, Maddy, and Jack sit on the other side of the table. I tried not to squirm under their stares.

“Sean,” Patrick said seriously, his voice low. “What’s going on? Tell me everything.”

For a short moment I feared my mouth was stuck; that I wouldn’t be able to get the words out. They were hard to form, now that I could feel my emotions.

I began to speak, pushing the guilt aside as I attempted to tell them everything.

Patrick looked sick by the time I’d finished. “Lee’s dead?” he breathed, disbelieving.

I nodded once, unable to ignore the stab of regret I felt.

Jack shook his head. “How many are at the warehouse?”

I thought briefly. “Counting the Demon Lord, there are only six. We didn’t need any more. There’s also a Seer of Selena’s; he was our informant. But he won’t be hard to deal with.”