Jordyn

I opened the double French doors that faced the ocean. Moonlight streamed into my room and a gentle breeze carried the tangy smells of the sea. This was my favorite part of the whole house. An elaborate pool had once occupied the area where my doors were, but it had been taken out. Krista had turned the space into a tranquil garden that highlighted the ocean view. A large outdoor fire-pit was the main attraction with its low circular benches Mark had sanded and built when he was on summer break from the college where he taught. Other small seating areas were scattered about discreetly amongst the native plants that provided privacy without taking away the beauty of the ocean beyond.



I walked into the garden, watching the waves below breaking relentlessly against the shore. Despite everything, I loved living here. This was the only home I knew. It was my sanctuary. My wayward thoughts were cut short when a sudden movement in the distance caught my eye. I squinted in the dim light, trying to make out the shape as a cloud passed in front of the moon, obscuring my vision. My instincts put me on alert. When the cloud moved on, my pulse raced into hyperdrive as the moonlight spotlighted the leather-donning individual standing on the shore…Emrys.



I stepped toward the edge of the bluff, strangely drawn to him. It felt like an invisible string was attached to my stomach, pulling me to the stairs that led to the beach below. I fought the sensation, remembering Haniel's warning from earlier, but the invisible string tugged harder. I shook my head so he could see my resistance.



His gentle laughter seemed to drift toward me in an almost hypnotic haze. It was intoxicating until, with a small arrogant salute, he disappeared into the night.



CHAPTER THREE



I woke the next morning groggy from a lack of sleep. After Emrys had disappeared, I went to bed, but managed nothing more than tossing and turning half the night thinking about him. I wondered why he had sought me out, and if maybe I intrigued him half as much as he intrigued me.



I rolled out of bed and shuffled through the quiet house seeking a caffeine injection. Thank God someone had switched on the coffee pot, I thought while pulling my favorite oversized mug from the cabinet. I filled it with the fragrant blend that was making my mouth water, and added a splash of my favorite pumpkin spice creamer before heading to the patio with my steaming bliss.



"Hi, Mouse," I greeted our large marmalade cat who was lounging by the open patio doors in the living room. He pretty much stayed in the same spot all day, waiting for late afternoon to approach so he could bask in the warm rays of the sun.



He opened a groggy eye and squeaked his typical morning greeting to me. It was his squeak that had earned him his name. He didn't meow like a regular cat, but would squeak his messages out to us like a squeaky toy a dog might play with.



"Morning," Krista greeted me as I sat in the cushioned chair next to her.



"Yep, it is," I quipped.



"Brat," she said, setting her laptop to the side so she could ruffle my hair. "This is growing on me," she said, holding up one of my dark locks.



"Me too, plus it'll totally match the lip ring I'm getting," I deadpanned as I took a sip of my drink.



"Oh my god, Jordyn, no," she said, grimacing in distaste.



"Come on, Krista, get real. Tats and piercings are hot right now."



"Keywords: 'right now.' In twenty years you'll just look silly wondering why you decided to stamp a permanent unicorn on your calf."



"Oh, I wasn't thinking a unicorn, but more like a big old dragon that wraps around my entire leg."



"Oh, well in that case," she said while shaking her head.



"Just keeping it real, home fry," I teased. "Where's Mark?"



"He needed to talk to Shawn about last night. I think they want to observe you in action," she said, flashing me a concerned smile.



"Watch as the student surpasses the teacher," I said in a deep announcer's voice.



"You tease, but you're more right than you think. Protectors spend their lives striving to achieve the skills that seem to come naturally to you. Haniel's given us updates on your training, but I think even he is surprised at your talent," she praised.



"Well, it's pretty easy when they can't touch me without being reduced to ash," I said.



"That only applies when they're in Daemon form. When they inhabit a human, your touch doesn't affect them, and yet you were still able to take on two last night. They're curious to know how that is."



I shrugged my shoulders, not sure how to explain it. Haniel and I had spent the last year working on my combat skills. At first, it had been simple yoga that he had insisted would keep me limber and centered. From there, we tackled various forms of fighting techniques from tae kwon do, aikido, and jujitsu to modern kickboxing. I was literally a Daemon-fighting machine. Sometimes, I'd seriously consider trading it all for a date with some steamy guy, but I kept that to myself.



"How's the book going?" I asked, changing the subject as I indicated the laptop.



"Not bad. Of course, the characters kept me up half the night clamoring about how they thought the story should go. I've spent the last two hours tweaking several sections. I think it's enough to keep them quiet," she joked.



"I'd listen to those voices. They haven't steered you wrong yet."



"That's true, although I'm thinking of closing the series up in the next book."



"What? Your fans would riot, myself included," I said, horrified at the idea of saying goodbye to hot boy Blaine from her Dark Night series. She penned the series under a pen name and had refused public appearances from the beginning. Her agent had given up on trying to convince her a couple years ago when his claims of "literary death" if she didn't put herself out there proved false. She gave her fans what they wanted by running a blog, doing regular Facebook updates, interacting on Twitter, and the obvious, writing kickass books.



She laughed at my words. "Well, eventually the series will have to end," she teased.



"Hmmmph," I disagreed, downing the rest of my coffee. "You want something to eat?" I asked, standing up and stretching.



"No, Mark said he'd bring me a chocolate cupcake from Wickedly Sweet on his way home. Do you want me to have him grab you one too?"



"No, I'll stick with a traditional breakfast, freak," I teased, heading back inside to rustle up a more appropriate choice than hers.



"Don't hate the chocolate," she called after me.



"Hey, Jordyn, I heard you kicked some major Daemon ass last night," Sam, my sort-of aunt said, joining me in the kitchen. I jumped slightly at her voice.



"I didn't know you were here," I said, stating the obvious as I mopped up the coffee that had sloshed over the edge of my cup when I'd jumped.



"Mark and Shawn had some business to attend to, so I thought I'd come hang with you," she said, looking guilty.



"Translation, you're here to babysit me," I gripped, putting two slices of bread in the toaster.



"Hang out," she said, emphasizing the words.



"Right," I said skeptically, removing the butter and jam from the refrigerator. Sam was nice enough. Sure, her bubbly personality kind of wore on me, but for the most part she was cool. I wasn't as close with her as I was with Krista or especially Lynn, but I chalked that up to the fact that we were polar opposites. She was optimistic about most things, while I was the engineer of the pessimist train. She was all sunshine and love, while I was darkness and fighting. I knew my instant friendship with Lynn had hurt her feelings, so I tried to make a conscious effort to open up more with her.



"Oh yeah, you know me, the Anomaly strikes again," I said, glossing it over.



"You're a badass anomaly at least," she teased, tugging at my hair. "So fill me in. I only got the highlights from Mark before he headed out this morning.



I sat down at the kitchen table with my toast and second cup of coffee and gave her the long version of the events from the night before.



"Badass," she said again when I finished, holding out her closed fist so we could knock knuckles. "I'd give anything to be able to fight like that," she said wistfully.



"You want to fight?" I asked shocked.



"Hell, yeah. It's always bothered me that the guys have to handle the physical part of our missions."



"Yeah, but you have that freaky manipulation-of-feelings thing going on," I said, wondering if she was yanking my chain.



"I'd trade that any day for being able to scrap a little," she said seriously.



"True that. How's your studies going?" I asked, changing the subject. Sam had been spending time with Haniel the last few months to get a better idea of the true history of the world. I'd overheard my aunt and uncle discussing her sudden interest a couple months back. They were pretty sure her interest stemmed from the recent knowledge that the current generation of Guides would not be able to conceive.



"Not bad, Haniel's as dry as the desert, but he's a wealth of knowledge," she said, stealing a bite of my toast.



I nodded in agreement. Sam opened her worn notebook that she never let out of her sight and launched into some of the notes from her time spent with Haniel the day before. After a few minutes, my eyes glazed over as Sam began to discuss the inconsistencies with documents that had been found over the years and the actual events. Only half listening, I used my fingertip to pick up stray crumbs on the table from my toast. My mind snapped back to attention when I heard her mention Soul Traders.



"What did you say?" I asked, fully alert.



"I said Soul Traders date back centuries. It's pretty crazy that Haniel just covered Soul Traders yesterday and then boom, you meet one for the first time," Sam said, opening her notebook to a blank page.



I pondered her words as I watched her hastily jot down notes. It was an awfully big coincidence. Not to mention that both Krista and Mark seemed well versed on the subject. I bristled at the idea of being kept in the dark.



"Hey, I'm going to go get dressed," I told her.



She nodded, although distracted, already lost in her notes as she jotted down her current thoughts on the subject.



An hour later, I headed down to the beach for my daily training with Haniel. I was dressed in my typical training attire of black yoga pants and a white ribbed tank top. My feet were clad in black combat boots. The boots left patterned imprints on the sand as I stomped toward Haniel. My suspicions of being kept in the dark had neared a boiling point by the time I reached his side.



"You are late," Haniel said when I joined him.



"Did you know I would meet Emrys last night?" I asked, throwing the words at him like daggers.



"I knew of an impending encounter, but was not aware it would occur last night," he said.



"How did you know an encounter was impending?" I asked, working hard to tamper my anger.



"I was told that a Soul Trader was in the area. Are you ready for training?" he asked, not acknowledging my anger. Half the time, human emotions were lost on him, but I had the impression he was well aware of how I felt.



"Well, here's an idea. How about if some freaking dangerous, soul snatcher is in the area, you give me the heads-up," I said with sarcasm dripping freely from my voice. "Instead of sitting around talking about it with my relatives behind my back. I'm not a kid," I said, pacing back and forth on the sand in aggravation.



He watched my ranting and raving without commenting, and I couldn't help seeing the irony of the situation. I was claiming to be mature with one breath and showed it by stomping around in a fit like a two-year-old. Taking a deep breath, I stopped pacing and looked at him.



"No more secrets."



"No more secrets," he parroted.



"That means if you deem something is important enough to tell Krista and Mark, I should also be involved," I said, clarifying exactly what I meant by "no secrets."



"You are pricklier than your aunt was at your age," he observed.



"So you've said, like only a million times," I replied, spreading my legs slightly apart and leaning over to place my hands on the ground in front of me to stretch my hamstrings. "Truthfully, I love Krista, but she must have been pretty boring," I said, grabbing onto my right ankle and holding the pose for several minutes.



Haniel remained silent, so I lifted my head to look at him. I grinned when I saw his look of disapproval. "Sheesh, Haniel, don't get your panties in a bunch. Krista knows she's a bit boring," I said, lowering my head so my curtain of black hair fell back over my face.



"Where are we going today?" I asked, finally finishing my stretching.



"Today, we will be working on terrain training," he answered, ignoring my groan.



"What? After last night, I was hoping to kick some more Daemon ass," I pouted. I hated terrain training.



"The others have asked that they join you for your next encounter with Daemons. They wish to observe you."



"Because I'm freaking awesome," I joked.



"Your humbleness is refreshing," Haniel said dryly.



"Good one," I said, looking at him with approval. "That was almost humanly snarky, but not quite," I teased.



"Ready?" he asked, reaching out to grasp my hand with his.



I nodded, holding on tightly. I hated this part the most. In less than the blink of an eye, the sand beneath my feet and the ocean in front of me disappeared. Traveling with Haniel was nothing like the way they showed it in movies. There was no spinning, no vortex of colors, one second you were here, and the next you were somewhere else.



It took my eyes several moments to adjust to my new surroundings. Placing my hands on my knees, I leaned over to gather my bearings. I grimaced when I saw patches of snow on the ground.



"Snow?" I complained, thankful that I at least had boots on.



Haniel waited patiently while I adjusted to the altitude and climate change. I always struggled with lightheadedness and nausea when I traveled with him. When I first started traveling with him, he had used his gifts to help me adjust, but he had tapered that off a few months ago, claiming I needed to learn to acclimate myself. After a few minutes, I had adjusted to the altitude and was able to stand upright without feeling like I was going to toss my toast.



"Ready?" he asked.



"Yeah, but seriously, snow?" I griped again, shivering slightly in the cooler temperatures.



"The altitude will help strengthen your lungs further during battle."



"You always act like a swarm of Daemons are going to crawl their way out of the depths of hell."