The Undoer (10 page)

The fragile moment lingers.

If I move, it will shatter into a million pieces of glittering glass. Closing my eyes, I will it away. That moment when we’ll part and I’ll feel the frigid draft of loneliness again, wrapping me in its isolating arms. I squeeze my eyes shut, keeping those foolish feelings at bay. Oh, to stay in this place forever, where I only feel loved and wanted—that fairy-tale land where everyone has a loving mother, father, brothers, and sisters. Nobody is sick, and nobody is alone. Everyone has what they need, and there is only kindness.

But that place isn’t real. Not even in my dreams anymore. My mind refuses to let me dwell there. I have to come back to the real world where people are capable of beating someone within an inch of their life just to take their loaf of bread. Where women are raped and children are abused because that’s what demons do. I came back to this world because I have to stop the evil from continuing, creating nightmares for other children, like my sister Sophie.

I’m a barricade.

I am a Cazador.

I pull back even though I don’t want to because if I don’t, my heart will turn to mush.

Bret smooths my hair away from my tearstained face, and the adoration and delight I see in his eyes can’t be denied. Does he truly care for me so much? My heart swells and I lean forward, pressing my lips to his.

Brecken

Stunned beyond belief, I freeze, my sister’s lips pressed to mine. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined anything like this happening. All this time, I’ve only thought about how cool it would be to live with family again. I never suspected I’d give the wrong impression, and I mean a
really
wrong impression.

I pull back gently, trying to mask my horror. But from the look in Heidi’s eyes, she can see it plainly in my expression.

Her eyes widen and her face drains of color, and then it turns a bright shade of crimson. She jerks away with a screech of dismay and jumps from the bed, grabbing her jacket as she flees the apartment, the door slamming behind her. She doesn’t even let me explain. No wonder she has trouble with boys.

I sit on her bed, immobile, wanting to shriek myself, the wheels of my mind grinding, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when it all went wrong. I heard her crying even though she’d tried to hide it. Her sobs had broken my heart, and I’d felt the pull to comfort her, like I have so many times in the past. I can’t stand to see her in pain, and I’d wanted her to feel there was someone who cares, someone who loves her.

I groan, rubbing my face in frustration, picturing her expression in my mind, the pure joy glowing in her eyes just before she kissed me. I am so stupid. Beyond stupid…
will she come back?

I leap from the bed and run to the door, throwing it open. Heidi is nowhere in sight, nor can I hear her sneakers beating down the stairs. Leaning over the railing, I search down the four flights. She has already disappeared.

Pulling the door shut behind me, I go in search of her, around the block and then to the church because it seems a likely place for her to go. The Cazadors are her only friends that I know of. Who else would she run to?

I fight the urge to grow frantic. I don’t want to lose Heidi just when I’ve gotten her back, gotten her to trust me. I mean, it was only a kiss. It’s not the end of the world. And just because I was surprised doesn’t mean anything. She has no idea why I reacted the way I did. She doesn’t know she’s my sister. She doesn’t know if I have a girlfriend or not. Maybe I can tell her I’m gay. I can fix this.

I run the few blocks to the church. Dean sits on the front porch steps, a gray pillar supporting his back, his pencils spread out beside him as he draws, a rainbow of color in a depressingly drab landscape.

“Hey!” I call as I run up, out of breath. “Is Heidi here?” I lean over, resting my hands on my knees, trying to fill my lungs.

Dean glances up and shrugs, frowning and shifting his hips. “Haven’t seen her.”

He looks pretty dejected with his lips turned down and his shoulders slumped. Even the church seems to sag with his melancholy.

“What’s wrong?” I slouch down next to him on the rough and worn cement. If Heidi isn’t here, I don’t know where to look. She’ll have to come back on her own.

Dean continues to draw, sketching the tree that struggles to grow on the other side of the street. The twist of the gnarled branches and the quivering leaves are caught in still life by his gifted hand. His talent is remarkable, and I find myself envious. I would have loved a talent like this. As it is, all I seem to be good at is getting into trouble and seducing women, which can be thought of as the same thing.

That talent has backfired big time.

“Jag,” he mumbles. “Ever since he heard Heidi moved in with you…” Dean’s gaze darts to me and then back down at his drawing. He shrugs again, and it all becomes clear.

“He doesn’t want her to live with me?” Dean is a year or so younger than Heidi. Sixteen, if I remember right, but he is a good guy. He’s the kind of friend who will keep her grounded, and he’ll always care about her, no matter what. I can see that. But this strange reaction leaves me stumped.

He shrugs again. There’s something more here, but I doubt he’ll confide in me, at least not right now.

“And neither do you, I take it.” I lean back and rest my shoulders against the doorjamb, shaking my head in wonder, but before too many thoughts are able to form, Dean grabs a fistful of my shirt and jerks me forward. He’s stronger than I gave him credit for. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares into my eyes with his jaw working as though he wants to spit something out. It’s the first time I’ve seen such fire in his eyes, his emotions blazing, and I have no doubt about his sincerity. If only he’d be as passionate about killing demons.

“If you hurt her, I swear… I swear…”

“Dude, I get it.” I gently shove his hands away and straighten my shirt. “I don’t even like her that way.”

A determined scowl draws his eyebrows into a V, and I swear I hear him growl as he grinds his teeth. “And why not? Is she not good enough for you?” He looks ready to attack again, so I hurry to put my hands up in surrender. If I doubted his loyalty to my sister before, it’s no longer an issue.

“It’s not that.” I can’t believe how this day is turning out. And it was so good just a half hour ago. I can’t seem to win in any direction. I tilt my face to the heavens, willing Raphael to ignore what a mess I’ve made of things.

“She’s perfect. Or can’t you see that?” Dean sits back, deflated, and picks his sketchbook back up. “You’re such an idiot.”

“That’s true.”

With a snort, he starts drawing again, his pencil moving hastily, with angst. The slope of a jawline forms on the paper, and then the shading of dark hair around an oval face. Full lips and dimples materialize, and then dark eyes with long lashes, full of longing, with such depth of feeling… all done in black and white.

Heidi.

There’s no mistaking her. The rendering is filled with humor and ache all at the same time. He has caught her perfectly. It’s stunning. How did he do it so quickly?

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” he answers.

“Well, if you see her…”

“Yeah.”

We sit in uncomfortable silence, probably hoping the other will leave first, and then when I am finally about to get up, the door behind us opens. Jag steps out, his eyes jerking to mine in unexpected surprise.

His demeanor isn’t much different from Dean’s, his gaze drilling a hole through me. I brace myself for an attack because it doesn’t take a genius to figure out I’m not wanted here. I rise to my feet and dust off my pants.

“Why are you here?” he barks, straightforward and right to the point as usual. “Your own place not exciting enough?”

“Hey man, we’re on the same team.”

“You’ll never be on my team.” He elbows past me, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched as he stomps to the sidewalk. Stopping suddenly, he turns around. “You can call yourself a Cazador, but do it on your own. I don’t want you with me. I don’t trust you.”

I know his words came from a place that isn’t only jealousy, but also wounded pride. He thinks I’m a demon, and he’s not totally wrong. Do I still give off that vibe? I’m not perfect. I haven’t totally proven myself. I’m not redeemed yet, not an angel, or even heavenly material. I still make mistakes, am tempted to lie at times, and I have no compulsion about killing… bad guys anyway, but I am still employed by heavenly angels. That has to count for something. That has to show a little bit.

I haven’t dwelled on my decision to defect from the demons in a while, but my heart clings to that choice. I don’t belong with them anymore. I want goodness in my life. I want to
be
good, but my choice didn’t change me overnight. I still have tendencies, urges, and habits. Habits that are hard to break. But Raphael believes in me. Alisa believes in me, and she’s waiting for me. I won’t disappoint her. So if Jag still sees or feels a demon inside of me, there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m doing my best.

But the way he stares at me now… it’s as if he
looks
for reasons to hate me, and now he has found another. He doesn’t want to include Heidi in his gang, but he doesn’t want me to include her either.

“That’s totally fine. Heidi and I will start our own group, and you’re more than welcome to join us whenever you’d like.” I say this mainly to Dean, but I doubt he’ll take me up on the offer. Not if he wants to stay in Jag’s good graces. But there’s a flicker of interest in Dean’s expression even as he shakes his head.

“Well,” I say. “The offer is always open… to both of you.”

Stepping down from the porch, I walk away, knowing they are both staring at my back. I don’t know what more I can do. Raphael and Michael want me to charm my way into the Cazadors. So far, I’ve made everyone hate me.

I don’t really pay attention to where I’m going. I don’t need to get home, and nightfall is still a few hours away. The rumble in my stomach demands attention, so I cross the street and head toward a busier part of town.

I stop at a hot dog stand and buy two, the tangy scent of pickles and onions making my stomach sing and my mouth salivate. There is no one at home to cook for tonight, so I take the easy way out. Loading up the buns with catsup and relish, I sit down on the curb to scarf my ultra-unhealthy meal… alone.

Heidi

I hear their whole conversation as I hide inside the church, just on the other side of the door, and the fact that Bret came looking for me softens my resolve just a little. I’d vowed never to go back to his apartment, my humiliation too consuming. I don’t know if I can possibly face him again.

I saw the look in his eyes when I kissed him, felt the stiffness of his arms and lips. He’d been stunned and mortified, and when that realization had finally sunk in, so had I.

I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. I’ve also never been so forward either. Not ever. It wasn’t my first kiss, but was it so awful? Does my breath smell bad? Does he find me repulsive? Does he think I’m loose? A slut? Or worse?

How will I face him? But I have to. All my stuff is at his apartment.

Bret gave nothing away as he visited with Dean on the front stoop. He didn’t confide in him or ask for advice. He kept my humiliation secret, and for that, I could kiss him again.

Jag had come upstairs and saw me crouched there, hiding like a coward. He’d stood there, watching me, waiting for me to look into his castigating eyes. If there is one thing he can’t tolerate, it’s a chicken. Groaning inwardly, I’d looked away, but he didn’t say anything. When I did chance to glance up at his face, his expression wasn’t one of condemnation, but pity, which is worse. His lips parted as though he might speak. I was sure he was going to gloat because I’d come here in tears, hours after moving in with Bret. He could tell me,
I told you so.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead, his eyes filled with sympathy… for about one second. He didn’t ask why I hid there, what I was doing at his church, or when I was going to leave. He’d just opened the front door and left me in peace.

And here I sit in utter disbelief. Jag skipping an opportunity to embarrass me? That is a surprisingly kind act. I’d heard it was possible, and I know he’s kind to Dean, brotherly even, but I’ve never seen him in an act of benevolence myself. I slump against the wall, letting these thoughts percolate in my mind.

After a moment, I peek out of the long, thin window by the door. It’s mostly obscured by dirt and dust, but I can see that Bret is no longer out there. Standing, I dust off my pants and open the door. Jag is nowhere to be seen either, so it’s just Dean and me.

I like Dean. He’s the little brother I never had. Kind, patient, caring, and would give you the shirt off his back, even if it’s ratty and see-through. I trust him, which is more than I can say about any other males of the species.

Plopping down, I take Bret’s vacated spot with a sigh. Dean glances up, but he goes right back to drawing. He keeps the pad turned away, so I can’t see what he’s working on, but I’m not curious anyway. I’m too consumed with my own problems at the moment.

“So, you want to tell me what that was about?” he asks.

“No.” The last thing I want to do is admit my stupidity, even if Dean is the only person who probably won’t judge my poor decision-making skills.

“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad. What could make the Mighty Heidi fall?” He laughs and then says, “What did Bret the Brave do now?” I love Dean’s penchant for doling out nicknames, and I’ve always enjoyed the one he gave me. It makes me smile.

The crook of his lips tells me he’s watching me from hooded lids. I roll my eyes, glancing away.

“Come on. Tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, I debate what to do. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone to confide in, and Dean is as close to a girlfriend as I have at the moment. Maybe he can give me some sound advice.

“Fine. I kissed Bret, and he acted like I had the plague.” I chance a furtive glance to gauge his reaction, which is one I don’t expect. I’d expected a chuckle or good-natured ribbing, like I was one of the guys. What I get is completely different.

“Wha… what?” He stares at me, his forehead creased in dismay.

“Dean, is it that surprising? It’s not like I don’t like boys. Geez.”

“No, uh… it’s not that. I just can’t believe—uh… he’s an idiot,” he says finally, a blush creeping up his neck like mercury in a thermometer.

“Yeah. I guess.” He isn’t helping me feel any better.

“Any normal guy would give his right arm to have a chance to—uh… to kiss you.” His pink cheeks grow a deeper shade of red, and his ears join in the traitorous reaction. I doubt he’s ever even kissed a girl, and it doesn’t surprise me that it embarrasses him to say the word
kiss
out loud. He blushes as easily as taking a breath. It makes him sweet. It makes me protective.

“Guess he’s not normal,” I say with a chuckle, wishing it were true. “He’s probably gay.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, a little more animated.

He looks a little too satisfied and I shrug, not wanting to get attached to this explanation in case, somehow, it isn’t true. Because if Bret turns out to be straight, then it
is
just me he can’t stomach.

“So, if you’re uncomfortable going back to your place right away, you can totally stay here with me. We can hang.” His words come out in a drawl, his arms out, and his fingers in
hang loose
signs. His smile stretches, radiating, his front, crooked tooth endearing rather than distracting. I can’t say no to his offer. Since the Rift, my life has been isolated and lonely. I can’t bring myself to leave him, sitting here alone like a waif on this dilapidated porch.

“I’d love to spend the day with you.” I reach over to hug him around the neck as I would a lost puppy. “What should we do?” There are a million things I can think of. Most of them I’d rather do alone… like go to the used book store and browse for a new book, take a long, relaxing bath in Bret’s new bathtub, find some new clothes to hunt in, maybe some new weapons.

Dean isn’t really into shopping, which is obvious from the outfit he wears—ratty jeans with holes in both knees, a plaid, button-down shirt that is so thin it’s see through, and shoes that are wrapped in duct tape to keep them together. I make a mental note to anonymously buy him a new outfit. He won’t take it otherwise.

“Hmm. Well, I’m supposed to go to the park and draw. It’s my job now, you know.” He winks and I smile, knowing how much money he is bound to make doing that. “Or… we could go to the park and get a hot dog, and then go to the river and soak our feet in polluted water. Nothing is too good for my girl.” He flashes me an ardent grin. “Or maybe we could go down to Main Street and listen to music, but there’s music in the park too.”

“How about we go back to my place?” The one I’d vowed never to return to. “And then I can show you our new workout machine. It’s totally cool. You’ll love it! I could show you some exercises, and then you could spot me or something.” Even though it’s still cool outside, it will quickly warm up and tar will soon be oozing on the asphalt. The thought of being outside when the heat wave hits is less than exciting. My idea is sounding better and better. Plus, Dean needs to build muscle and put on a few pounds.

“Do you think Bret will mind?”

“It’s my place too, and he likes you.” I wink at him, and he throws his pencil at me. I catch it in the air. Yeah. I’m that cool. “It’s a good thing this has a dull point or I’d have to kill you. Nobody stabs me without punishment.”

“Well, at least I can go to my death saying I tried.” He stuffs the notebook into the backpack at his feet.

Growling in mock rage, I jump at him, but he’s quick and already sprinting down the sidewalk. I chase after him, but the only thing I catch is the sound of his bubbling laughter as he

leaves me in his wake.