Blind Sight Page 10

  After some time – it could have been minutes or hours – an owl hooted and Jordan smiled. She looked up to the trees, hoping for a glimpse of the beautiful bird. Instead, she found herself face to face with a girl walking the path beside her. The newcomer looked about her age, with luscious black hair and cloudy gray eyes. She may have been pretty, but the hateful expression she wore, the ugly twist to her mouth, made her less so. Jordan wondered if she should be afraid, or at least cautious, but found the girl’s presence didn’t bother her. She knew the girl had a part to play in her dream. Jordan even knew her name.

  “Hello, Ivy.” She smiled, though she didn’t know why. Her companion didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood. As a matter of fact, she looked downright pissed, as if having to take time from her busy schedule to walk in this amazing place was beneath her. Maybe it was.

  “Jordan,” she replied with a curt nod.

  They continued walking, neither saying anything more. Jordan figured Ivy was waiting on her to ask what this dream was all about and who she was. Well, she’d be waiting for a while. Jordan was content to ignore the girl as long as she would do the same. The day was just too perfect to waste on idle chit-chat with someone who obviously didn’t even want to be there. Maybe Ivy would get tired of the silence and leave.

  After a while, they came upon a clearing. It was surrounded by trees, blueberry bushes full of plump fruit beckoning to be picked, and wild roses. The almost-level ground was covered in tiny purple flowers. Without thinking, Jordan lay down upon them, inhaling their sweet scent, closing her eyes and reveling in the peace and tranquility she’d found in this strange dream. Ivy continued to stand, arms crossed tightly, hip cocked.

  “Must you roll around like that?” Ivy asked, fanning away a mosquito. “You look like a cur in heat.”

  Jordan smiled. Nothing was going to ruin her perfect dream, not even a rude girl who wasn’t invited to ride shotgun. “I am doing exactly what I want.” Jordan crawled over to one of the blueberry bushes, stripping one of the branches before sinking back into the bed of flowers. She popped a few of the berries in her mouth, feeling their juicy nectar burst on her tongue as she bit through the thin skins. “You know, you can leave if you want. No one is twisting your arm to make you stay.”

  Now, Ivy smiled. It was one a prom queen might allot for a girl in the 4-H club: condescending and cruel. “Unfortunately, I have orders.”

  Jordan stretched like a cat in the sun. Through half-lidded eyes, she watched a yellow butterfly dip and swoop around Ivy’s head. She popped more berries in her mouth. Speaking around them, she mumbled, “Well, this is my dream, so why not enjoy it instead of worrying about orders?” Honestly, she couldn’t be bothered with this sullen girl right now.

  Like a loaded trap, Ivy snagged the butterfly out of the air. She opened her palm and, in a puff of smoke, the insect turned black. With a satisfied smirk, she pursed her full lips, blowing it out of her hand where it floated to the ground, dead. Okay, that got Jordan’s attention. She sat up, staring at the girl like someone who’d just witnessed a terrible car crash. As horrific as it was, she just couldn’t look away.

  Looking up at the sky, Ivy whispered, “This isn’t your dream.”

  Jordan had seen this movie before. The flawless illusion she thought she’d created was about to be interrupted by some ax-wielding maniac in a hockey mask who was severely pissed off because people kept trying to put him back in his grave. Dammit.

  “Who are you and what in the hell do you want?” Jordan almost sighed. God, can’t I have my dreams? My waking hours are living nightmares. I deserve at least my dreams! It wasn’t fair.

  Ivy, seeing that she had Jordan’s attention at last, became closed-lipped and secretive. She strolled around the clearing, brushing her hands over the tops of the roses, causing their petals to fall in puddles to the ground and their branches to turn black and brittle. Jordan wanted to claw her eyes out. “I asked you some questions!” Cautiously, Jordan got to her feet and reached for her knife. It wasn’t there. Great. She wore that knife like some girls wear a favorite perfume or a comfortable pair of pajamas. It was more than that, though. The knife, given to her by her father a long time ago, was an extension of herself, like a third hand. It defined her almost as much as her red hair and green eyes. She felt naked and vulnerable without it.

  Ivy sauntered over to stand beside Jordan. She eyeballed her as Jordan scanned the surrounding area for her weapon, praying she didn’t drop it anywhere on the hike. “I told you this wasn’t your dream. It’s mine.”

  Jordan looked up, blowing her now sweaty hair out of her eyes. “What do you want?” she asked. She wasn’t helpless without her knife. She’d fought bare-handed before and could cause enough damage to save her own ass, but Ivy’s deadly trick with the butterfly had creeped her out. What would happen if she touched Jordan?

  “You asked who I am.” Ivy cocked her head, as if listening to something Jordan couldn’t hear, and then she nodded. “Let’s just say we have common…friends. We’re a lot alike, as you’ll soon learn. Someone thought we should meet, so here I am.”

  Jordan kept her eyes on Ivy, her hands tense, and her feet ready to spring if need be. Ivy seemed unconcerned, bored even. She yawned while examining her nails, patiently waiting for Jordan to reply.

  A thousand questions buzzed through her mind, but the one that surfaced the most was, “Who? Who thought we should meet?”

  Ivy closed her eyes, a nasty smile playing upon her lips. When she opened them, they were solid red orbs. She was a demon – not very high on the evil ladder, but not the weakest, either. Jordan wasn’t surprised. She’d fallen asleep on a lounge chair by the lake with the nearest protective symbol almost a hundred feet away in the cabin. She really needed to buy some silver charms and put them on a bracelet or something. She’d encountered maybe a dozen demons in her entire life, but now they were popping out of the woodwork every other day! This was wrong on so many levels.

  Hiding her concern, Jordan laughed. “In case no one’s told you, you’re a demon, hon. We have nothing in common.”

  A tick jumped in Ivy’s cheek. Jordan hit a nerve. For a moment, her eyes changed back to their normal color. She looked wistful as she stared at the surrounding forest, but the moment was short-lived. When she looked back at Jordan, the red eyes had returned. Power of an upper-level demon filled her voice. “Trust me,” she breathed, taking a few menacing steps closer. “I don’t need to be reminded of what I am!” She reached out, grabbing Jordan’s arm in a vise-like grip. An electric charge shot through her, almost knocking her off her feet. It settled behind Jordan’s eyes, causing them to burn worse than ever before. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her brain swam in a sea of electricity, riding the currents like a storm-tossed dinghy. The pain was excruciating! Jordan couldn’t help herself. She fell to the ground, moaning and holding her head, silently begging for the agony to abate. Through the rushing sound of blood coursing through her veins, Jordan heard Ivy breathe, “But, you do.”

  Jordan’s head snapped back, her body arched, her extremities stiff as a pain worse than any she had ever imagined flooded through her. All of the hatred she saw in Ivy’s face transferred into her. A thought pushed at her, demanding to be heard over the keening wail that escaped her lips. Accept it and there will be no more pain. Accept your fate, Jordan, and you will lead us all!

  “N-no!” As the word burst from her, the pain doubled, and then tripled in strength. Through her tears, Jordan was surprised to see Ivy crying, as well. She hesitantly reached out to her. Even if she wanted, Jordan couldn’t raise her hands to accept any help the girl may have been offering. Instead, they dug into the petit flowers, ripping them up by the roots only to dig down farther, burrowing into the soft dirt below, looking for an anchor of any kind to help her hold on to her sanity.

  Hate filled her mind, swirling like smoke and reaching every corner. Jordan could almost visualize it, putrid-green and toxic. Accept it... The voice w
as masculine, yet smooth and soothing. It sang to her, the musical lilt a balm for her aching body and soul. You could be so much more... She pulled her hands from the soil. Her fingers cramped and then convulsed as she opened them, releasing the dirt clogged within. The hate made her stronger. She struggled to stand, failing several times as pain raced through her legs like flash burns, searing her muscles. She screamed and Ivy echoed her, almost in sympathy.

  The pain became a heavy weight, bearing down, paralyzing her mind and body. The hate gripped her from within, twisting her thoughts and molding her into a different species. Do you accept it? Drool slipped from the side of her mouth as Jordan lay panting on the ground. She’d lost the ability to swallow or move. Oh, God, don’t let me piss my pants. The thought barely crossed her mind, but was answered with God has nothing to do with this, my child, and on the tail of that, Accept your destiny, now!

  The hate that rolled through her head drifted down, expanding into her heart where it burrowed itself like a black thorn. The voice told her that she could be so much more. More than a bull’s-eye for Quinn’s anger; more than a glorified psychic for a bunch of pompous angels who didn’t give two craps for her; more than the lowest member on her family’s totem pole. She hadn’t been on a real hunt in months, and Uncle Case was pushing her to the side, doubting her ability to get her hands dirty. Nathan may not be backing his decision, but he sure as hell wasn’t speaking up for her, either. And Quinn, well, he was practically glowing now that Uncle Case had told her she couldn’t search for the Kongamato with the rest of them. She remembered the smirk on his face in the kitchen and wanted to tear him apart – rip his insides out and stomp on them.

  Her eyes burned as if fire ants were chewing them out of her skull. But, for the first time in her life, Jordan was thinking clearly. She was thinking for herself and no one else. If her family thought they could take on the Kongamato without her, let them try. She was done.

  The pain was gone. It felt so good to take a clean breath without hurting that Jordan stayed on the ground for a moment longer, relishing its absence. Everything was quiet. There was no rustle of small critters, no wind…and no Ivy. The girl had disappeared along with every ache in Jordan’s body. The only part of the bizarre experience that lingered was the hate. Instead of the deep, piercing thorn that nearly drove her crazy before, it was now more like a tattoo branded upon her heart. She could still sense it, but only when she concentrated on it.

  The fluttering of wings behind her made Jordan grind her teeth. The hate flared up briefly and she pressed it back down. The last thing she wanted right now was to take crap from an angel. If it’s Michael… At that thought, she actually growled, the sound rolling from deep within.

  Jordan sprang to her feet, spinning around and dropping to a crouch, ready to spring. She bared her teeth, wanting to rip into the archangel and bare his soul for judgment. Instead of Michael, she found Gabe. He raised his hands slowly, as if to show her he meant no harm. The hate was still there, demanding that she act. This was Gabe, her guardian angel, the one who had been there for her all of her life. She didn’t hate him, so why did she feel like she did?

  He started towards her. Deep inside, she wanted his comfort. She wanted him to wrap his strong arms around her and calm the erupting volcano she had inside her. He could do it; she knew he could…if she would let him. And Jordan knew she wouldn’t.

  “Stop!” she yelled. “Don’t come any closer, Gabe.”

  The angel did as she asked, but she knew it was only temporary. Inside, he was scheming, planning a way to get his hands on her and take away her hatred. Take away her hatred? Isn’t that what she wanted? She didn’t know anymore.

  As if he could read her thoughts, Gabe jabbed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He smiled, but it was strained. “Jordan, you need to wake up now. This isn’t real.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Jordan followed its path, wondering what would happen if she stuck a knife into it. Jesus, that’s sick! Where are these thoughts coming from?

  Gabe closed his eyes for a second and shook his head. Jordan immediately felt guilty. Gabe had always been able to read her like a book. He knew when her thoughts were drifting towards violence. He always said it had something to do with the color of her eyes: they shifted from the color of emeralds to a green meadow obscured by rain -- murky and distant.

  “Jordan, did you hear me? You need to wake up. The fight’s not over yet and there’s still much to do.” He took another step in her direction. The closer he got, the more infuriated she became.

  “My family doesn’t need me to fight. They’ve made that very clear,” Jordan snarled. Without quite knowing why, she began to pace, circling the angel like a shark after a seal. “Why should I help them? They’ll only push me away again! Poor Jordan, all she’s good for is having visions and fetching dinner!” Her voice climbed higher, the rage she felt amplifying it in the still forest. “Well, I’m finished with them and I’m finished with you! Let’s see how far they get without my help.”

  Gabe kept her in his sights, moving with her in this strange dance as she continued to stalk him. “Jordan, you know that’s not true. Your family needs you.”

  “They don’t!” Spittle flew from her lips as she screamed. “They only consider me when I have visions. Now that I’m no longer a Seeker, they have no use for me! I’m leaving – moving on.”

  Her angel moved two steps forward, bring him dangerously close. With one leap, she could be on him. Jordan’s heart pounded and a sly grin slid into place. If he didn’t back off, she’d show him she was much more than a Seeker. Stop it, Jordan! Stop thinking like this; you’re not going to hurt Gabe!

  “Where will you go?” Gabe asked softly.

  Jordan shrugged. “Off on my own. Or maybe I’ll team up with some other Slayers. Whatever I decide, I’m sure to end up with someone who appreciates me more than my family does now.”

  Realizing he was not making headway with her, Gabe switched tactics, becoming as stern as a nurse with a stubborn patient. “Jordan, I’ve had enough of this. It’s time for you to wake up and finish this run! Now, give me your hand.” He reached across, bridging the last gap between them and Jordan exploded.

  How dare he presume to tell her what to do? Dammit, she was seventeen years old and had been in more dangerous situations and helped to remove more paranormal sludge from the face of the earth than most Slayers do in their entire lives! She deserved to be treated with respect.

  As he reached for her hand, the anger she’d been trying to suppress sprang to the surface. The pain in her eyes, which had faded to minor irritation, flared once again. When his fingers brushed against hers, Jordan grabbed ahold, squeezing his hand with all her strength.

  Gabe’s hand began to glow with a bright, eye-searing light. It licked its way up his arm, across his face and torso, until his entire body was aglow. His face froze in a silent scream. Jordan had no idea what she was doing to him, but she knew it wasn’t good. She was hurting him!

  I’ve got to let go! Oh, God, help me let him go! She tried and pull away, but another persona from her psyche reared its head. Why should I let go? After all, he asked for this! Instead of treating her like a responsible, almost-adult, he shunned her feelings. Let him suffer!

  The angel was paralyzed everywhere the light touched him. His skin took on a petrified look, like dead wood. It took mere seconds. When the light faded away, Gabe was completely still – no twitch of the eyes, no rise and fall of his chest. He was dead. When Jordan saw his face, she screamed, wanting to rip her own heart from her chest. In that moment, she finally understood the true meaning of “face of an angel.” There was no anger in his eyes, no pain like before, just…softness and profound relief. There was a peace she would never know and forgiveness for what she’d done, what she’d become.

  The anger was gone; the hatred vanished in the act of killing someone she loved. Jordan collapsed beside her Guardian. She’d never wept for anyone, not even when
it finally hit home that her father was never coming back; but she did now. Unlike her father, Gabe had been a strong presence in her life – always there, even when he wasn’t. His words, actions and guidance had moulded her into the person she was, more so than anyone else. And now, he was gone, his light extinguished by the very person he had sworn to protect. Until that moment, Jordan was never sure who she was to Gabe, what she meant to him. Now she did. She was his salvation, his purpose for existing. When so many other angels argued that humanity was not worth their precious time, Gabe was the first to argue that they were worth saving and protecting…and with one touch, she’d proven him wrong.

  What have I done? Why did I do it? What the hell is wrong with me? Barely able to see through her tears, Jordan cautiously reached out, touching Gabe’s stiff hand, wanting to reverse his death and breathe life back into his still body. Like dried, burned timber, his entire form crumbled under her light graze. All that he was fell like snow, drifting on the wind, blowing to unknown places until there was nothing left of her Guardian at all except for a giant, black feather. It was so dark and beautiful that it surely appeared from a fairy tale. Jordan watched as it reflected the sun’s light, causing rainbows to dance on its surface. Her mind could handle no more. She lay on the ground, hand gently roaming over the grass where Gabe had stood – alive and intact -- just moments before.

  She knew this was a dream, but never in her life had an illusion affected her so profoundly, not even her visions of hideous monsters and death. Jordan wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but she considered herself a good person for the most part. She’d never killed any sentient being that didn’t deserve it. She’d grown up believing that there must be balance between good and evil and that she was one of the people God chose to keep that balance. She wasn’t a pacifist, nor did she believe in instigating violence, but she sure as hell never backed down from a fight and spent most of her life defending those who couldn’t defend themselves. What she did to Gabe was so overwhelming she couldn’t begin to understand it, much less believe she was capable of it. I killed him in cold blood. There was no reasoning…just blind fury. How could I? Did I really kill Gabe? Is this really a dream? What’s wrong with me?!