"You're gonna wind up eating sand again, old man," I said to Mark, grabbing his wrist. In one fluid moment, he found himself pulled up over my head. His back slammed against the sand and my boot rested lightly on his jugular before he could even think to move.
"Stop," Haniel said, indicating that Mark was out.
I released Mark's arm and turned to the other two who were both eyeing me warily, wondering which move they should try next.
"Would it help you guys out if I closed my eyes?" I teased. "Or maybe I can paint my nails."
"That'd be helpful," Shawn muttered, throwing a sudden kick that would have caught me in the chin if my hand wasn't waiting to swipe it away in a lightning-fast move that he didn't see coming. I could have grabbed his heel and set him on his ass in the sand like I'd just done with Mark, but it was more fun to screw with him. Three weeks ago, my taunt would have been countered with claims that I was too cocky for my own good, but after eating dirt for the last three weeks, he was singing a different tune.
"Okay, I'll close my eyes," I said, going for a strategy that Haniel and I had been working on. In the beginning, it was disorienting to fight with one of my senses so completely shut off, but I'd quickly learned that it only heightened my other senses.
Shawn and Robert grinned at each other, not sure if I was serious. It wasn't that long ago that they were concerned about hurting me. Now, after landing on their backs too many times to count, they were hesitant, but wanted badly to get in at least one shot.
I squeezed my eyes shut, letting my senses take over. My ears automatically tuned in to Shawn and Robert's whispered conversation as they discussed their plan of attack. The funny thing is they were still at a major disadvantage and didn't even realize it. With my eyes closed, the elements became my greatest ally. My ears were tuned to every subtle change in sound around me, like the sound of their clothes when they tried to strike, or the smell of their sweat, which gave away where they stood. I had to hold back a grin, knowing that this fight was over before they even thought of what lame plan of attack to use. After a moment, they had their strategy worked out. Just as I envisioned, their less-than-stealthy movements were a dead giveaway. That, combined with their heavy breathing made both of them easy prey. Without giving them a chance to finish their approach on either side of me, I struck out with my closed fist and caught Robert in the esophagus while I whipped the rest of my body around to deliver a roundhouse kick into Shawn's chest.
I could hear Shawn grunting in pain several feet away and Robert gasping for air just to the left of me.
"Oops, did I do that?" I asked, feigning innocence as I finally opened my eyes.
"Damn it, that stung," Shawn whined, staggering to his feet and rubbing his chest in the process.
"I think she freaking knocked my Adam's apple down to my stomach," Robert complained, still gasping for air.
"Sorry, guys. It's a little harder to reign in my strength with my eyes closed," I said, taking in the boot-sized bruise that Shawn had just exposed when he pulled off his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.
"Hear that? 'Reign in her strength.' She's like the effing Terminator," Shawn grumbled, slowly making his way to the wooden staircase that led to the house.
"Jordyn, that was something to see," Mark said with open admiration as he ruffled my hair before following behind Shawn.
"You okay?" I asked Robert who was still sitting on the sand.
"Peachy. I'm not sure what's more bruised: my ego or my throat that feels like a branding iron has been shoved down it. You're like an artist with that skill.
"Like Buffy?" I teased, making him laugh. After our first day of training, the Protectors had nicknamed me "Buffy." I had no idea what they meant, so I Googled the name until I came up with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I found old episodes on Netflix and spent half the night watching six of them that first night, and became hooked. I felt an instant kinship with the fictional character as she struggled with the knowledge that she was created for a higher purpose to destroy evil. The only part of the show that bothered me was that she never seemed to get the guy. Her duties always seemed to run interference as she was forced to make a choice every time. That part I definitely related to, and I couldn't help the nagging feeling that I was seeing a glimpse into my future. My duties would always dictate the person I was and the people I surrounded myself with. I wanted to hate the responsibilities. To lash out at fate. To demand to be normal like everyone else, but in truth, I didn't hate my strength, or my ability to fight, I thrived on it. I enjoyed combat, honing my skills, and kicking ass.
Despite that, I still couldn't erase my fascination with Emrys that had turned into actual longing in his three-week absence. Even though he deserved a kick in the ass for deserting me. I missed his easy humor, smoldering looks, and the way his touch made me feel. Like the girl Buffy in the show, I wanted it all. I wouldn't give up my gifts, but I also didn't want to give up the guy.
"Definitely better than her," Robert said, taking the hand I offered.
"Well, I take that as the ultimate compliment, coming from you," I said as he staggered slightly from being lifted to a standing position so quickly. "Come on, old man, I'll help you to the house," I teased, draping one of his arms around my neck.
"You got that right," he agreed, leaning on me as we shuffled our way toward the staircase with Haniel trailing behind us, looking as smug as an archangel was allowed. "So, what season are you on?"
"Four. That show is the bomb."
"Yeah, it was a favorite of mine growing up. The movie was cheesy as hell, but the show was awesome."
"Truth," I said as we climbed the last step. "Better go let Lynn take a look at you to make sure I didn't do any permanent damage," I added, plopping down on the oversized padded porch swing that overlooked the ocean.
"What is this show you speak of?" Haniel asked once Robert had staggered inside.
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," I answered, using the toe of my boot to gently swing back and forth.
"Vampire?" he asked, looking mystified.
"Yeah, you know, a bloodsucker," I answered. He still looked confused so I continued. "It's a mystical creature that's supposed to be really strong. Some portray them as grotesque-looking while others paint them as being beautiful beyond belief. They drink human blood to stay alive and are very hard to kill."
"There are no such creatures like you describe. Animals do not drink human blood, they devour their flesh," Haniel clarified, making my description sound ludicrous."Hence the wordmystical," I joked. "It's just a creature that has been written about and hashed over many times over the years. Every generation has a different spin on what a vampire actually looks and acts like," I added, not admitting how much time I had spent on Google researching them after I had started watching Buffy. Their hard-to-destroy image reminded me of Daemons, thus they had sparked my interest.
"Mystical," Haniel said, rolling the word over with his tongue. "I have heard Krista refer to herself and Mark as mystical and they don't drink blood."
"Not all mystical creatures drink blood. There are mystical creatures that change into wolves during a full moon and some that come from heaven and hell," I said, pointing to him. "As far as most humans are concerned, angels and demons are every bit as mystical and hard to believe in as vampires and werewolves."
"Angels do exist," he stated.
"True, but you also keep your existence secret from humans, right?"
He nodded, processing my words. Make-believe was a subject that Haniel just couldn't understand. Krista had spent hours trying to explain the Easter Bunny to him back in April. Mark and I had stifled our laughter as Krista had gotten more and more frustrated trying to explain to Haniel that no, she didn't believe that an actual bunny delivered candy every Easter. It was just a fictional character that parents let their kids believe in. The discussion had finally ended with Krista stomping off to her room, muttering about archangels and their narrow minds. Haniel was left in the living room looking completely puzzled over her outburst while Mark and I had whooped with laughter. Haniel had finally left the living room with a scowl, which only fueled our laughter even more.
Done with trying to explain something he just wasn't going to get, I closed my eyes, hoping Haniel would get the hint and join the others. It had been days since I had been left alone and my nerves were beginning to wear thin. I just needed some time alone. Time would allow Emrys to appear. I could drill him on why he'd dropped me off in my room without a backward glance. I needed just one moment alone.
Much to my frustration, Haniel didn't take the hint, or maybe he knew exactly what I was hoping for. The latter seemed most likely. Haniel may be dense when it comes to human rituals, but he had a keen sense of awareness regarding their behaviors. Even without being able to read my thoughts, he still had the gift of being able to read my body language.
Finally giving up, I headed to my room in a huff so I could get some peace. Krista trailed behind me chattering away about the new bruises the guys were sporting. She sank down on my bed without a pause.
Sighing to myself, I went to the bathroom and closed the door hard behind me, so maybe she would get the hint. I was sick of my prison sentence.
"Whoa, careful," a voice said as Emrys suddenly appeared where my bathroom door had stood open just moments before.
I gave his shoulder a hard shove. "Where the hell have you been?" I hissed as Krista pounded on my bathroom door.
"Jordyn, open up now!" she yelled through the door.
I ignored her, waiting for his explanation.
"I've been around," he said nonchalantly, leaning against my bathroom counter.
"Don't be a dick," I said as I heard Krista yelling for Mark.
"We have about five seconds before your uncle breaks down your bathroom door. Is that really how you want to spend the time?" he asked, pulling me close so I stood between his legs. "Your wardens have made conjugal visits tough," he whispered as he tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear.
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, wetting my lips with the tip of my tongue. I didn't want to admit how much thought I'd invested the last few weeks about what his lips would feel like on mine.
"This," he said, crushing his lips to mine.
My lips parted in surprise and he immediately took advantage by sweeping his tongue into my mouth. Everything inside of me liquefied and I melted into his embrace. All else was forgotten as our lips melded together like pieces to a complicated puzzle. He tasted like heat, glorious heat that sucked me in, leaving me begging for more. An uncharacteristic whimper left my lips as I tried to convey my needs to him. Chuckling slightly, he settled his hands on my hips before running them up under my shirt, trailing over to my back. His touch felt so right. Pulling back slightly, he gently sucked on my lower lip. My hands found their way up his chest as I gripped his shirt in my fist. Who knew making out would be so freaking enjoyable. Either he was really good at it, or I just should have been doing this a long time ago. I was pretty sure it was him, but I could never tell him that.
"Time's up, hot stuff," Emrys said, running his hands down my back before cupping my butt firmly in his hands and pulling me tightly against every inch of him. Gasping with awareness, I locked my arms around his neck, needing his lips back on mine. Grinning at me, he pulled back abruptly and disappeared from my embrace just as my bathroom door splintered open.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I staggered around like I was drunk, trying to focus on the glowering figures standing in the doorway. In the rational part of my brain I knew I should say something—anything. At least act indignant that they had broken down my bathroom door. Instead, the only thing I could focus on was how my lips tingled from where Emrys had just been. Reaching a finger up, I stroked my bottom lip, relishing how amazing his lips had felt against my own. Distantly, I could hear Mark and Krista talking, and I finally dragged myself from the kiss-induced stupor.
"What's up?" I croaked innocently in a voice even I didn't recognize.
"Are you okay?" Krista asked, suddenly concerned about my sagging stature and strained voice.
"Sure. Why?" I answered, trying to release the counter that was still supporting the majority of my weight. My legs wouldn't cooperate as they impersonated Jell-O.
Krista eyed me critically. I could tell when two and two finally clicked in her head and sudden awareness filled her face, quickly followed by wariness. She may have not witnessed the act, but she was well aware that I had just been kissed senseless—literally.
"Oh, I see," she said, taking a step back. "We'll talk when you're done showering," she continued, grabbing Mark's arm and dragging him away from my bathroom door that now resembled a pile of kindling. I wondered exactly what she saw. Did I look like someone who had just been kissed senseless in the most literal sense? Were my lips swollen? They felt swollen. I could have looked, but that would have required movement.
Now that I was alone, I finally gave into my weakness and let myself slide down to the floor and rested my forehead on my knees. I tried to gather my bearings. I couldn't remember a time in the last year that I had felt as weak and vulnerable as I did at that moment. My every limb felt like cooked spaghetti and completely useless. If a Daemon appeared in my room at that moment, I was pretty convinced it would be able to kick my ass. Who knew kissing would be so intoxicating?
Finally, after several false starts, I was able to drag my sorry butt off the floor and into the shower. The steady stream of water worked wonders on my muddled brain, and by the time I climbed out of the shower, I felt completely rejuvenated. Of course, regaining my senses allowed me to focus on the fact that yet again Emrys had left me without a goodbye. Not to mention the fact that he deserved a knee in the nuts for leaving me with a splintered bathroom door and a suspicious aunt.
I grabbed my favorite coconut lotion off the top of my dresser and sat on the edge of my bed. I was in no hurry to face what I was sure would be another interrogation. Flipping open the lid, I inhaled the sweet smell of the creamy lotion as I smeared it on. Working with the guys on the beach had its downfalls. The salty air made my skin turn to something akin to alligator skin if I didn't keep it properly moisturized. Becoming the queen of procrastination, I dragged out the process. I was in no hurry to get dressed and face another roomful of disapproving looks. After the third coat of lotion, my body was no longer absorbing it and I began to resemble a beach bunny. "Well, time to pay the band," I said. The hunger pains in my stomach outweighed facing the music anyway.