Darynda Jones: Death, Doom, and Detention

As though fighting with himself, he bit down, locked gazes with mine, then stepped even closer. He lifted a finger and ran it over my mouth, along my jaw. “Your grandparents were right, Lorelei.”

The word “grandparents” brought me skyrocketing back to reality. I nodded and swallowed down the bitter taste in my mouth, the same one I got every time he mentioned them. “Right. When they told you to stay away from me.”

“They didn’t say that. Not really. They just— They reminded me of the truth.”

“Of course. And what truth would that be?”

His gaze didn’t waver as he said, “That I am not worthy of you.”

If the world had fallen out from under me, I would have been less surprised.

“That I have no right to pursue you. I have nothing to offer,” he continued. “No future here on Earth.”

I was fairly certain my jaw was hanging open at that point.

“That you are destined to do great things. That you were prophesied about over four centuries ago.” He closed his eyes. “And I am nothing more than an errand boy.”

Maybe it was just the alcohol, but everything faded away except Jared. His startlingly beautiful face.

His wide, solid build.

Then his gaze narrowed and darted past me. He scanned the area, suspicion furrowing his brows.

“Who invited you to this party?”

I glanced down, embarrassed, and tried not to fall sideways with the movement. “Tabitha.”

He wrapped a hand around my upper arm, still examining the black beyond. “And where is Tabitha now?”

“Over there with the in crowd, I suppose.” I frowned at him. “Why?”

Jared eased me away from him. “Get her home.”

“What?” I asked, but my question was answered when Cameron stepped from the shadows, his footsteps as quiet as Jared’s. How was that even possible? I totally wanted that superpower.

“Really?” Cameron asked as he looked me up and down, his expression full of mirth. “You thought you could sneak away from us by using the front door?”

“Shut up.”

“Stealthy. You’re like a ninja.” He chuckled.

I crossed my arms over my chest, but before I could snip at him again, he stepped in front of me, blocking my view of Jared. When I tried to look around him into the forest, he blocked me again. So I tiptoed, trying to peek over his shoulder. Though I couldn’t quite manage it, I did get a good look at his shoulder blade. This was ridiculous.

“What?” I grabbed his arms and finally peered around him. “What are you guys looking at?”

Cameron reached back and took hold of my wrist, then stepped closer to Jared. “This isn’t my fight, Reaper. She’s my only concern.”

He turned back to him. “And why do you think they’re here?”

“Who?” I asked, but was ignored again.

They did things like that. Spoke. Argued. Ignored.

And enough was enough. I wrenched my wrist from Cameron’s grasp and stepped around him. “No more cryptic crap. I mean it. What is going on? What’s out there?”

“A presence,” Cameron said, clenching his hands, on full alert.

“I thought you said there wasn’t a presence. That the rats left the sinking ship.”

Jared spoke then. “The normal spiritual elements are gone. This is something else. Something that shouldn’t be here.”

Well, that couldn’t be good. But if I were as honest with myself as Brooke was, I would admit that I’d felt it too. Something skewed. Something not quite right. Then again, I did just drink strawberry vodka.

“There’s a balance,” Jared said, turning back to us, “between the physical world and the spiritual one.

The light and the darkness. And when that balance is thrown off, when the scales have been tipped to one side or the other, there is chaos. Emotions bubble. Tempers flare. Decades’ worth of animosity and resentment surface, and there is a rise in violent crimes. Those who lean toward violence anyway are naturally affected more. And those who don’t are seen as weak.”

“Humans are swayed by more than just stress and reality TV,” Cameron said. “The spiritual world is very much a part of their makeup, whether they acknowledge it or not.”

I thought about how my grandparents were suddenly fighting with members of the Order. Were they being affected as well?

“And until we can figure out what is throwing the world off balance,” Cameron continued, taking hold of my arm as though afraid I would rabbit, “we need to keep you safe.”

“Get her home,” Jared said again. “There aren’t many entities that can throw the world into turmoil.”

He turned back to us, his mouth slanting into a menacing grin. “This shouldn’t take long.”

In an instant, the space he’d occupied was empty. I barely heard him running through the trees as

Cameron helped—aka dragged—me back to his truck.

I looked up at him, trying not to trip. “What did you mean, it’s not your fight? Why is it Jared’s?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Sounded good at the time.” He stuffed me into his truck none too gently, then went around to his door.

“How did you guys find me?”

“Your aura isn’t exactly subtle,” he said as his truck roared to life.

“My aura?”

He cracked a grin. “It’s like a freaking bonfire, way brighter than that paltry excuse for a campfire you guys started.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” I said, defensive, “you know, if the forest burns down because of it.”

I so very much wished I could know more. Could see more. In desperation, I steeled myself for anything, then reached over and grabbed his wrist.

He frowned at me. “I’m nephilim, shortstop. You can’t get anything off me unless I want you to. Or I’m so stunned, I can’t think straight. Sorry, but you just don’t do that to me.”

I thought about being offended but couldn’t quite manage it.

He pulled around to the back of the house, and I cringed. His truck wasn’t exactly quiet. I jumped down after he turned it off and headed inside, only to be brought up short.

“In the bizarre instance that my grandparents didn’t hear that beast of yours, we can’t go up the fire escape. They’ll hear.”

“Maybe they should,” he said, walking up behind me. He eyed me as though I were a naughty schoolgirl who deserved to be punished.

“Oh, please.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Like you’ve never drunk a beer.”

With a shrug, he hauled me over his shoulder. I squeaked in protest.

“I’ve had a few beers. They don’t do anything for me.”

“This is so uncomfortable,” I said as he climbed the fire escape as quiet as a church mouse. “I have got to learn how you guys do that.”

“Do what?”

“And what do you mean, they don’t do anything for you? You don’t like the way they make you feel?” I wasn’t going to admit it, but I was right there with him. Tipsy, buzzed, drunk—whatever the colloquialism, it sucked. If the world would quit spinning, I would get off and wait for the next one to come by.

He slid open the window and sat me on the sill. “No, I mean they do nothing for me. I don’t feel any different. I don’t think I can get inebriated like you.”

Brooke’s voice burst into the quiet like a freight train barreling through town at midnight. “You’re inebriated?” she screeched.

I scrambled inside, stumbling over a chair leg, and slammed my hand over her mouth. A single lamp lit the room, casting more shadows than light, but I could see the shock in her huge eyes.

She mumbled through my hand. “You’ve been drinking?”

“Sh-h-h.”

“Alcohol?”

Shushing her with an index finger across my lips, I said, “Only a little.”

She broke free of my grip. “Lorelei Elizabeth McAlister.”