Refracted (The Celadon Circle Book 2) (14 page)

“Does the thought of that scare you?”

Jordan cocked her head, studying Orias. He didn’t appear to be taking a jab. He seemed sincere in his question. She decided to be truthful.

“It used to.” She sighed. “Being a prisoner means never seeing my family again. I can handle anything but that. Michael and I don’t see eye to eye on…anything. He’s an ass.”

Orias clenched his jaw. His full lips pulled into a scowl and Jordan thought he was going to disagree with her. Instead, he only nodded. “And now?”

“I’ve realized it doesn’t matter if I’m locked up in a cell in Heaven or a cabin in the Huron Mountains – a prison is a prison. The only difference is who’s holding the key.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I can take care of the warding issue. The question is, will you do it?”

Ivy pinched harder.

“What’s in it for me?” Jordan asked. “In case you haven’t heard, I’m no longer employed in the Celadon Circle. Ergo, I set my own prices.”

“What is it you want?”

Now it was Jordan’s turn to lean forward. “I want my own team for the job and, when I deliver your succubus with the wild hair up her keester, I want my freedom.”

“How will you handle the angels without our protection? I can give you a temporary ward for the job, but they tend to become unstable with long periods of use. It’s much easier to place permanent wards over a particular place, like we have at the cabin.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

She waited – nerves raw and stomach in knots. This was her chance. All she had to do was one job and she could go home.
Home!
She didn’t know what to do about the angels but she was stronger when she was with her family.

“Deal.”

Jordan almost jumped off the couch and danced a jig but held her poker face. It wasn’t hard, especially with Ivy’s scorching gaze.

“Your team?” Orias inquired.

Of course she wanted Ivy to come, and she probably would, even if she wanted to kill Jordan at the moment. Beside her, she felt Xander lightly touch her elbow – a small sign.

“I want my sister and Xander, if they’ll both agree.”

Orias’ eyebrows rose. “I can certainly understand why you chose Ivy. I understand from Aamon that you two are quite close, but why my son?”

How could she explain the instant connection she felt to a guy she’d just met? Hell, she didn’t understand it herself. Xander was a demon and yet, he made her feel safe. He felt like home.

“You wanted him here at this meeting for a reason. Was I wrong?”

“No. I’m just surprised you suggested he join you before I could.”

She smiled. “I do have a brain. I knew Xander would be the stipulation to our deal. Why beat around the bush?”

“Why indeed.”

Orias got up and walked to a wooden chest sitting on the mantle above the fireplace. Lifting the lid, he removed a round pendant on a silver chain, brought it over, and placed it in Jordan’s hands.

The pendant, about the size of a quarter, was made of polished stone that appeared black in color, but changed to a greenish-blue when the light hit it a certain way. It had a circle inscribed on the surface in silver. Inside were two triangles, one inverted on top of another, with diamond shapes on both ends. Words and symbols she didn’t understand decorated the outer edge and the connecting triangles within. It was beautiful.

“What’s this?” she asked, running her finger over the mystical rune.

Orias sat on the coffee table in front of her. “This is the Third Pentacle of Jupiter. It will provide protection for you.”

“From the angels?”

Instead of answering, Orias took the pendant and stood up. With a pianist’s fingers, he opened the clasp and held the chain in front of him.

“May I?”

She nodded.

He bent and placed it around her neck.  When finished, he said, “Don’t take it off and don’t lose it. Tuck it into your shirt if need be, especially if you get into an altercation.”

He moved to a doorway on the opposite side of the room. “Tomorrow, you will spend the day acquiring any equipment you need for the hunt.” He glanced at the ceiling as if turning a thought over in his mind. “You’ll need a car. Shall I provide one for you or would you rather buy one yourself?”

Jordan laughed. “Sure. I’ll pick some money off the
special
tree growing in the backyard and hit the nearest car dealership first thing in the morning.”

Orias shook his head. “I will provide money for anything you might need. I was not sure if you would be comfortable buying a car on your own or if you would like for me to handle the transportation.”

Good point. She’d never bought anything as expensive as a car. Come to think of it, she’d never bought guns, either.

“How about I make a list of what I feel more comfortable with
you
buying and get the rest myself.”

“That is doable. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room and Ivy shoved her, hard.

“Are you fucking crazy?” she whispered.

Jordan grinned. “Yes; I’m stir crazy from being in that cabin all the time. Tell me you aren’t dying for some kind of normal life, Ivy.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Normal life? Yes, I would love one of those, Jordan. But hunting down a demon for Orias is not normal.”

“It is for me.”

Her sister leaned back and closed her eyes.

“You don’t have to come,” Jordan said. It hurt to think Ivy might bail but she couldn’t fault her if she did. She hadn’t forgotten the
Kongamato
or how it had thrown Ivy against a stone wall like a sack of potatoes. Hunting this demon could get dangerous.

When it came to powers, Ivy was middle of the road. The glow of her red eyes when she was in demon-mode gave away her status. There were two levels above her. Demons in those power brackets sported yellow glow or pearl-white. Lesser demons had green glow or solid black orbs. Jordan could only hope this particular baddie was in one of those categories.

“You know damn well I’m not going to let you do this alone.” Ivy sat up. “I know this is important to you, but what if Orias reneges?”

“Then there will be one less demon stinking up the joint, and Orias will be
very
sorry.”

“And what about him?” Ivy pointed to Xander, who’d been as quiet as a church mouse.

He placed his hand on the small of her back and, once again, she felt safe. She couldn’t explain it – not here and not now.

“We’ll talk about it later.”

Angry, Ivy choked on the words she struggled to get past her lips, but calmed down when Jordan gave her pointed look.

Orias returned with a bulging pouch. He handed it to Jordan. “There should be enough money in there for anything you need. Make out your list; someone will be by to pick it up later. I’ll have everything on it and suitable transportation delivered to the cabin tomorrow. On the front seat, you will find a report and the name of a contact.”

“We won’t be dealing directly with you?”

Orias motioned for them to stand and led them past the stairs into the foyer. “I’m very busy, Jordan. My contact will serve in my place. I trust him explicitly.”

At the door, he said, “Xander will leave with you now. I know it is a long trip, so I arranged for a portal directly back to Tenura. From there, you can teleport to the cabin.” He pointed to a spot past the gate to a swirling vortex.

“I’m sure you won’t let me down.”

Jordan looked into those hypnotic eyes she almost lost herself in before. Orias reminded her of someone. Later, maybe she would have time to think on it. Right now, her mind was occupied with preparations for the hunt.

“I’ll get your demon. Just know you’ll be next on my list if you don’t keep your word.”

Except for a nerve that jumped in his neck, Orias remained composed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jordan and her new team left him standing in the doorway and made for the portal. Xander took point, eyes scanning for threats even though they were still in close proximity to the house.

“Aamon’s gonna shit kittens when he hears about this,” Ivy said.

“Orias is his boss. Aamon doesn’t have a say. Besides, I make my own rules, Ivy. If he wants to be a part of my life, he has to accept that,” Jordan said.

With a shrug, her sister entered the portal.

Jordan regarded the whirlpool of colors with trepidation, wishing there was another way back to Tenura. Wiping her sweaty palms on the front of her lycra shirt, she scanned the sky, praying for a helicopter or even a spaceship.

Xander took her hand and smiled. “Let’s go together.”

Relief made her shoulders sag. Grateful, Jordan nodded.

Side by side, they entered the vortex.

Chapter Sixteen

Quinn

His head felt like a balloon on the verge of popping. The urge to spew pizza overwhelmed Quinn to the point of tears. He and Gabriel had just teleported from the hotel room and were now…

Where the hell were they?

Quinn’s face pressed into a hard floor. It was deathly quiet. His ragged breath echoed, giving him the impression of a large room. He smelled lemon furniture polish and something else. Incense maybe?

“Are you okay?”

Gabriel’s voice sounded loud in the stillness. When Quinn managed to get to his knees, the room spun.

“Ugh.” He grabbed his head, closing his eyes against a merry-go-round he found himself on. “Please don’t ever do that again.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and warm energy seep into his body. The dizziness passed. He let go of his head and took his first look around.

“Better?” Gabe asked.

Wiping sweat from his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt, Quinn shrugged. He didn’t know what to make of the stained-glass windows, multitudes of polished pews, the altar, or the giant cross on the wall.

“Are we crucifying someone?”

Gabriel looked confused, as usual. “Why would we do that?” He shook his head and started for the back of the church. “No, we are here to find something I need, and we must hurry.”

Quinn stayed where he was. Gabe didn’t understand many “earthly” concepts and he guessed breaking and entering could be added to the angel’s lengthy list of alien concepts.

“Hey, Gabe,” he called, pulling himself onto one of the pews. “Do you own this church?”

Gabriel was on his hands and knees (a position similar to the one Quinn just relieved himself from) behind the altar.

“No,” he answered. There was a squeal of what sounded like metal being bent. “I do not own any real estate.”

Quinn considered explaining that not only were they committing a B and E but Gabe was also vandalizing property, then decided against it. His sister was a possible
Paladin,
they were being chased by angels who could fry him like a cheese stick, and had just
teleported
. The fact that they were in a church without permission and Gabe was tearing something apart didn’t rank high on his list of things to stress over right then.

Still, he was getting antsy. This was taking too long.

“What are you doing back there?”

“Searching.”

Well, duh.

“For what?”

More scuffling from behind the altar and then Gabriel stood. “For this.” He held up a small box. “Hurry, Quinn. We don’t have much time and I need your help. I can’t do this alone.”

That didn’t sound ominous at all. Nevertheless, Quinn hurried to the altar. The box in Gabe’s hand was definitely old, made of black wood with streaks of dull red showing through the patina. Raised insignia in what looked like gold adorned the surface, reminding Quinn of the symbols that appeared (and disappeared) on the cover of The Book.

Gabe removed the lid and set it on the altar. From its small depth, he pulled out a nail approximately six inches long with a triangular shaped head. The diameter was half an inch…and it glowed.

Quinn’s eyes moved from the shining wooden nail to Gabe’s impassive face and back again.

“I’m afraid to ask,” he admitted.

“Hold this.”

Gabriel thrust the nail into his hand and bent over to replace the box from where he had found it underneath the altar. Quinn heard the whine of bending metal again. When the box was back in place, the angel stood and removed his shirt.

“Um…” Quinn had no words.

“I need you to help me ward myself against Michael’s angels.”

Frowning, Quinn wondered exactly what that entailed. “If you tell me I have to anoint your body with holy water or something the answer is a resounding ‘no’.”

“I wish it were that simple.”

Gabriel eyed the nail in Quinn’s hand like one would a medieval torture device.

“Gabe…” That one word held the weight of many more but he couldn’t think.

In a flat voice, his Guardian explained, “The nail is from Jesus’ cross. It was blessed by Saint Jude, the patron saint of lost causes. That is why it glows.”

“Gabe, I can’t.”

“It must be inserted between my wings. I can’t reach back that far.”

“Maybe we could find–”

“They’ll be here soon.”

“I don’t think I can–”

“It will not hurt very much.”

“You don’t even
have
fucking wings!”

Quinn’s hands shook worse than someone with palsy. He heard a
whooshing
sound he was familiar with and his heart nearly burst from his chest.

“Now, I do.”

They were the most magical, awe-inspiring wonders Quinn had ever seen, stretching at least fifteen feet across. Tiny feathers no bigger than a thimble lay at the base between Gabe’s shoulders, with slightly longer quills tucked between. This pattern expanded, the feathers growing in length and width. Toward the tips, they were as wide as Quinn’s hand and twice as long. Though predominantly black, a spangle of color, like stars of a galaxy, rippled across like waves in the sun when Gabe raised and lowered them. Their edges held a certain gleam, mirroring the light Quinn looked for every morning in that moment just before the sun climbed above the hill.

Something inside him awoke, and Quinn was filled with hope and doubt. Hope for the future of their world, hope of a better place after they left it. And doubt that he would ever get a chance to see it. A single tear escaped to roll down his cheek.

Gabriel pulled him into a hug and he didn’t fight it. It was as if the angel knew what he was feeling, how powerful it was, because he’d been there himself. After so many years of surviving with blinders on, the first time seeing the world without them was painful.

“Will you help me?” Gabriel whispered.

Quinn sniffed and pulled away. “Are you determined to do this?”

“It’s the only way I know to ward myself against them.”

“We don’t have time to search for a different way?”

Gabriel shook his head. “We have less than twenty minutes. They’re close. I feel them.”

The edges of the nail dug into his hand. Slowly, Quinn opened his palm and studied the impression it left behind, wishing the lines could tell their future.

“Shit.”

Gabriel nodded. “Yes. I do believe it has hit the propeller.”

“The
fan
, Gabe.” Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose. “The shit has hit the fan.”

“Yes, that, too.”

“Turn around.”

Quinn moved to give Gabe and his wings room. The angel turned, bracing his hands against the altar. Quinn stared at the wings, wondering what they felt like. Were they soft like down or coarse, sharp enough around the edges to cut flesh? His hand hovered just above the plumes but he couldn’t make himself touch them.

To touch an angel’s wings is to make them fall.

Where the hell did that come from?

“Quinn?”

He snapped out of his daze. “I’m here.”

“Okay; I’m ready.”

Yeah, but I’m not.

“Press the nail in about an inch.  My body will take over and pull it in the rest of the way.”

“Thanks for the visual.” Quinn took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes.”

He located the spot between Gabriel’s wings. It wasn’t hard to find, as it was marked with a gold-colored cross. Carefully, he placed the point of the nail in the middle.

Christ on a pony.

“Just do it,” Gabe said. Quinn heard him take a deep breath.

They were crucifying someone after all.

Quinn pushed the nail. And the angel wept.

<><><>

Gabriel looked better and Quinn was relieved. They were camped in another hotel room – this one located in a city more populated than the one before. After the “nail incident”, which Quinn never wanted to think about again, they teleported back to the shabby motel where Michael’s soldiers had busted in. The place crawled with cops but the angels were gone. Quinn had the foresight to park Jordan’s car around the corner of the motel when he’d returned from the store. He had registered with a fake name and I.D. and also used the make and model of a different car. When no one was watching, they slipped around the back of the motel and left.

After a few hours of sleep, Quinn woke up with heavy, aching eyes, bad breath, and a growling stomach. Gabriel was reading The Book. He’d asked to see it after they checked into their new temporary home, before Quinn had succumbed to exhaustion.

Bright light peeked through a crack in the heavy curtains. Quinn figured it was after noon. He pushed his weary body up from the bed and sat on the edge.

Gabriel closed the book with a snap, his expression a mixture of excitement and concern. Quinn thought back to the first time he ever had sex and would bet the farm his face had looked the same way.

“We need to talk.” His Guardian practically bounced in his seat while Quinn barely had the energy to raise his head.

“I know we do, Gabe, but damn, can I get a shower and some food first? It feels like my teeth have grown fur and I need some time to get my head together.”

The angel’s expression fell. Quinn felt bad for snapping.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel said. “Sometimes I forget about human needs.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for being an ass. I guess it’s too late to warn you I’m not a morning person.” Gabriel smiled and Quinn added, “How are you feeling?”

The angel rolled his shoulders. “Much better, thank you. I don’t feel the nail at all now.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.” Quinn grabbed some clean clothes and toiletries from one of his bags and clapped Gabe on the shoulder on his way to the bathroom. “After I shower, we’ll grab some food and talk while we eat. I need to call and check in with Nathan, too. Sound okay?”

“Yes. Can we get cheeseburgers?”

Quinn had yet to find anyone who could put away more food than he did, until he met Gabe. He’d cruised around until he found a Denny’s. After assuring Gabe that they had cheeseburgers and fries, they went inside and managed to snag a booth in a corner, which was lucky because the place was packed.

He worked on a Grand Slam with extra hash browns while Gabe put away his second double-cheese burger platter. That impressed Quinn until he remembered Gabe was an angel. Sometimes, it was easy to forget. Other times, he wished he could.

“That book,” Gabriel said around a mouthful of fries. “Where did you get it?”

Quinn took a sip of coffee and sighed appreciatively. It was amazing what food and strong coffee could do.

“I told you, I found it in Case’s study.”

Gabriel swallowed and drank some soda through the four straws in his glass.

“Any idea how it got there?”

“What makes you think Case or Nathan didn’t buy it?”

There was no need to throw his name in. The idea of Quinn buying a book would be comical.

“Because that book can’t be found in a store.” Gabe pushed his plate away. It appeared his tank was full – for now. “As a matter of fact, it can’t be found anywhere on Earth.”

Quinn was intrigued. “What is it?”

“
The Oraculum
, also known as
The Book of Shadow and Light
.”

“Can it help us?”

Gabriel frowned. “I think so. The text changes so it’s hard to find the exact information we need. It will take time to learn how to control it.”

Quinn sopped some egg yolk with a bit of toast and popped it in his mouth. “Damn, Gabe, you talk about the book like it’s alive or something.”

Gabriel’s gaze drifted from the window beside them and leveled on his ward. “Exactly.” 

The phone rang five times and Quinn was waiting for voicemail to pick up when his brother finally answered. He sounded rushed…and pissed.

“What?!”

“Bad time to talk?

Through a hiss of static, Nathan blew out a breath. Quinn thought he heard a car door slam in the background.

“You have no idea,” Nathan said.

Quinn heard the distinctive click of a shotgun as it was broke open. “Where the hell are you?”

“Nebraska.”

“Who in Nebraska peed in your cornflakes?”

“Ghost.”

“You’re on a job? Is Case with you?” Quinn gnawed on his lip. He didn’t like the thought of Nathan taking jobs on his own. Ghosts could be violent. Not to mention there were only a few ways to dispose of them. And why was Nathan back on the Winged-Ones payroll anyway?

“No, I’m not on a job.” Nathan sounded a bit calmer. “This is where Lucas’ demon led us to. She’d heard rumors Jordan was being held in an abandoned house in Bridgeport.”