"Accidental Angel: Part 5" by Mandy Burnham

Erela couldn’t help but smile as she watched her brother’s head bob back and forth in rhythm with the train’s sway. All in all, he’d taken the situation rather well, though she hadn’t enjoyed his half-angry-half-panicked screeching when he found out exactly what Damien was. The young woman giggled a little to herself, remembering how Bradley, on the other hand, had seemed to enjoy it. She almost imagined the way he teased Kaleb about his voice cracking would be what an older brother would do to diffuse such a situation. Maybe Kaleb needed something like that every once in a while.

“May’s a heavy sleeper,” Erela commented as she glanced over at Bradley.

The man adjusted the four-year-old in his lap and smile. “She takes after ‘er dad in ‘is younger years,” he laughed.

Damien glanced over before turning back towards the darkened window that only showed a reflection of the train interior rather than much of the night-covered countryside.

Erela pulled out her cell-phone and looked at the screen. She lifted an eyebrow and looked up at the blood-bound. Without even a moment to wonder over his strange ability that required no electronics on his part, she began to answer his question. “She’s a child, Damien,” she answered. “A young person—that’s how we all start out.”

“Not me,” he whispered as his fingers wrapped around his chin and his eyes remained locked on the window. Perhaps he could actually see the dark fields that sped past the window.

“Any more memories?” she asked, burying the slight twinge of pain she felt in answer to hearing his voice. If he knew he’d never been a child, maybe he’d remembered more about where he came from.

Damien only shook his head, his frown intensifying.

Erela sighed and turned her head away to change the subject. “Bradley, do you really think we’ll be safe like this?”

He shrugged. “It’s the best I got fer now,” he answered. “If they manage ta trace the tickets, it’ll take ‘em to the south coast. While they’re scratch’n their heads and bust’n their brains look’n fer ya, ye’ll have some time ta figure things out in the west. I’ll keep work’n on things at home, too. Don’t worry. Everythin’ will be fine.”

Erela glanced down at her buzzing cell phone and raised an eyebrow. “Uhm…” she felt herself flush a little in her apprehension. “Damien wants to know why you didn’t consider May when you were hunting the blood-bound.”

Bradley threw his head back and laughed. Damien turned his scowling face towards the laughing man.

The blond shook his head and grinned. “Damien, I think I’m gonna really get ta like’n you,” Bradley offered.

“Erm… Bradley… I don’t think that was a joke,” Erela whispered.

“Me neither,” he answered before settling his steady gaze on the raven-haired man. “Simple answer: I did’n know ‘bout ‘er at the time. My girl up and split one day without a word—including anything ‘bout May. Felt pretty bitter running through the rain that day…” His grin took on an angry light before fading back to his careless ease. “When a cop knocked on m’door three years later ta tell me they found Rach with a needle in‘er arm and a cry’n kid, I quit Alliance ta take care’a May.”

“Bradley, did you lo…?” Erela started, but stopped when she realized how inappropriate the question would be.

“Naw,” he spoke up with a sad grin. “I was young and stupid. Didn’t know the first thing ‘bout love—but I would’a taken care’a her. May’s the first person I really loved. I get it now.”

“I feel really bad that you had to come along,” Erela started as she shifted her bags from the floor of the shabby motel room to the mouse or mouth-eaten comforter atop the bed. She opened the closest one and dug for her toiletry bag.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” he laughed as he tossed his little girl into the air. He caught the squealing child and turned to look at the woman. “We both know yer in way over yer head. I could’n just let ya go this completely alone. I would’n be able ta live with m’self if ya all were hurt er sum’n. Let’s call it a mini-vacation fer me and m’little lady. I could use a week offa school an’ work right now, anyhow.”

“His tattoos give him away, don’t they?” she murmured as she dropped down sit on the edge of the bed, giving up her search for her toothbrush. Her gaze traveled to the closed bathroom door and she sighed. “Even if he wear’s turtlenecks, someone could notice.”

“Erm, yeeeaah ‘bout that…” Bradley cleared his throat before hurrying his next words. “That wudn’t really how I knew ‘e was blood-bound,” Bradley offered with an apologetic chuckle.

She lifted irritated eyes to glare at him. “What?”

He reached up to scratch his head while May threw herself back, obviously wanting to be thrown again. He snatched one of her arms to keep her from falling. “It’s true they’re like item numbers,” he started, lowering his imp to the floor. “But even blood-bound hunters cain’t target anyone based on tattoos alone, ‘cause regular thugs get junk like that fer intimidation-factor. There’s no time ta follow up wild leads like that…”

“How did you know then?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah… ‘member when I quoted what I thought ‘is age was based on ‘is energy signature? That’s what told me ‘e’s blood-bound. But ya don’t have ta worry ‘cause there ain’t many—even among the blood-bound hunters—that can sense energy signatures without complex machinery that Swift just won’ take time ta carry ‘round.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” she complained.

“Sorry.”

Erela sighed and shook her head as she looked up at him. “Have I been told any other half-truth’s recently?”

He chuckled and shrugged. “Naw. Don’ think so, anyhow. Sorry ‘bout that. I was a little flustered, ya know.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “And you didn’t want me to know about your past then either.”

“Right—I am sorry.”

She offered a weak smile before dropping her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You either.”

“Huh?” She looked up to him.

Bradley nudged his daughter away from his legs and ruffled her hair as he approached Erela. He crouched down before her and reached up grip both of her hands to over her a comforting smile. “You don’ worry either. Promise everything’s gonna be okay. Alright?”

Erela swallowed hard as she bit the side of her mouth. She felt her face warm as a mix of gratitude and embarrassment flooded her. “Bradley…”

“I got friends in the area that’ll be able ta help ya. I’m gonna contact one tammorra. We’ll see ‘bout get’n ya some cash flow without questions.”

The woman leapt to her feet when she heard the bathroom door open. She shook her head and moved to shuffle with some papers on the rickety desk in the corner. “Thank you, Bradley,” she murmured. “I appreciate it.”

“Up, Daddy! Up!”

Erela took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she listened to Bradley shift his attention back to his daughter. Erela jumped when she felt a pressure on her shoulder. Erela sighed and shook her head as a wavering smile took her lips. It was just Damien getting her attention.

She shifted her gaze to the tiny object he held out for her to see. Erela gasped and she whirled to look into his eyes. “Wha…? I’m not…” How could he have even known what she was just thinking?

He smiled and shook his head.

Her eyes darted back to the screen. After she’d read his words, she watched him turn and walk towards Bradley. Fear lodged in her throat when he crossed his arms and stood looking at the man. “Walk,” he grated.

Bradley lifted an eyebrow. “With you?”

Damien shook his head and then motioned over his shoulder at Erela.

“Hey, sis!” Kaleb shouted as he darted through the door, jerking the small convenience-store bag around in his excitement. “I got it!”

Erela felt herself begin to shake as her nerves neared her breaking point. Everything was just getting to be too much—too loud. Before she realized exactly what was happening, she and Bradley were both standing outside and Damien had slammed the door shut behind them.

“That was weird,” Bradley commented.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

“Well, as long as yer lil’blackbird shoved us out here, shall we?”

“I guess.”

He buried his hands in his pockets, and she crossed her arms as they started off.

Bradley cleared his throat. “Erela, ya went pale when ‘e showed ya that organizer. Wha’d ‘e say?”

Erela lowered her eyes and swallowed hard as she felt the blood rush to her face. Why did he have to ask that question?

“Erela?”

“He told me that I shouldn’t pull away from you because of him. He told me I should walk with you and figure out what I was feeling…”

“And?”

“And I’m stressed. Bradley, I don’t think that… I mean… you’re a great guy and all… but… what I mean is, I never…”

“Erela, quit talk’n.”

She furrowed her brow as she looked up at him.

He grinned and shook his head. “I’m gonna help ya anyway I can—always—‘cause this ain’t something I’m worried ‘bout. I won’ lie and say I never thought ‘bout ya like that, but if you haven’t, I’m happy ta just be yer friend. It’s enough.”

She shook her head as gratitude swelled in her heart. “You wouldn’t tell me if it wasn’t,” she accused with a light air of mix gratitude and embarrassment.

He chuckled. “Natta chance.”

Erela frowned in study of the confusing transit map posted on the side of the bus stop just outside the storefront where the owner had granted her a temporary job and under-the-table payment. She sighed and worked her fingertips in circles over her temples. If things were this hard after getting a great head-start from Bradley and his network of friends, what would it have been like trying to get established on her own? Erela didn’t even want to think about it.

She shook her head and glanced to her left when a chill ran down her spine. Her breath caught in her throat, and she frowned when she realized she’d seen that person before—several times that day already. The man’s appearance froze her gut and made her heart flounder in irrational trepidation. Cold eyes stared from a face that might as well have been carved from marble for the amount it changed expression from an intense frown.

She tightened her grip on her bag and turned on her heels. Had Alliance found them already? So quickly? Bradley assured her that their disappearance would have been nearly impossible to trace. Three weeks? Nearly impossible only meant three weeks? What was she supposed to do now? Bradley was far away. She didn’t have any friends or even acquaintances in this city.

As she turned a corner, she saw a bus stopping just ahead. Erela ran towards it, not caring where it was going just that it might provide her with escape from the frightening stranger that followed. Her breath came heavy and panicked as she dropped into a seat while the bus lurched forward. A shiver danced down her spine when she watched the man turn the corner and stop, his eyes dead-set on her through the grimy, tinted window.

After several minutes to collect her destroyed nerves, Erela pulled the tab to request a stop. As soon as the bus slowed at the next blue sign, she left to hurry straight up that first street, determined to get as far from the bus line as possible. She stopped at the first bay of payphones she came across, and forced her shaking fingers to dial the number to the small motel where her brother and Damien awaited her return.

“Kal?” she breathed when her bother’s chipper voice appeared on the other end. “It’s me. Are you guys alright?”

“Damien’s in a tizzy,” he commented with an exasperated sigh. “Chirping like some frantic birdie that lost her chicks. Is something wrong with you?”

“No… well… maybe,” she answered, unable to keep the shaking out of her own voice. “Someone was following me, and I don’t know if it’s Alliance or not… I’m going to try and make it back. Don’t answer the phone or the door. You both just stay put.”

“Are you okay?” Kaleb asked, his voice growing intense. “Did he hurt y…? Hey! Where are you going? Damien! Come back!”

“What happened?” she demanded as her insides began to shiver.

“He just left!” Kal spat, his voice cracking. “I gotta go get him…”

“No!” Erela shouted despite herself. “Kaleb!”

Her breathing digressed into short, spasmic half-breaths as she stared at the silent receiver. “You idiots!” she snarled as she slammed it down, fear getting the best of her.

Now what was she going to do? Even if she went back, they wouldn’t be there. She’d have to find them… No, she should go back and hope Kaleb would succeed in convincing Damien to return. If they weren’t there, then she would try and figure something else out.

Erela shoved away her anxiety and ducked into a small coffee shop across the street. Luckily, it didn’t seem too busy, so maybe she could convince the guy working there to help her.

“Excuse me,” she started as she approached the counter, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry, but I’m a little lost, and I was wondering if you could give me directions.”

The man pushed himself away from the far corner where he leaned, reading a newspaper. He sighed and moved to rest his elbow against the high display case containing a vast array of sugar-shock specials. “Where ye trying to get to?”

“The Pine Cove Motel on Jamison Street.”

“Huh.” He scratched his head and lifted his eyebrow in thought. “Is that in the north district?”

Erela felt herself pale. He didn’t know. “Yes.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Do you have a map or anything then—a phone book?”

“Naw,” he sighed. “A customer borrowed it a while back and walked off with it. You know, I wonder if ten bucks could help me remember…”

Erela dropped her jaw as her frustration and desperation rose up. Was he really going to do this to her? “Look,” she murmured as she pulled her wallet from her back pocket, trying to hide the tears that sprang to her eyes. However, even if she was somehow able to hide them in her eyes, her shaking voice betrayed her. “I have six dollars. That’s it. See?” She opened her wallet to show him it’s embarrassingly empty state. She jerked the miserable bills out and a snapped them in the air. “You get me there and it’s yours.”

His black eyes narrowed, and he frowned. “Aw jeeze,” he sighed and shook his head. “I was just messing with ye, lady. Don’t look like I asked for ya first born.” He bent over and pulled out a phone book. Flipping past the first few pages, he stopped at one of the city maps.

“We’re here.” He reached for a pen and put a big red circle around a small intersection. “This is where ye want to go.” Another red circle. The attendant ripped the page out of the book and held it out to her. “No charge.”

Erela forced a smile and accepted the paper. “Thank you.” She turned from the counter and the man that she couldn’t decide whether he was nice or not.

Her heart leapt to her throat and wrapped around her windpipe, cutting off her breath. “Oh no,” she gasped.

Across the street, investigating the payphones stood the hard-faced red-head. Erela spun back to the counter. “Can I use your back door?” she almost shouted the ridiculously-clichéd question.

The man drew back and jerked his thumb over his should. “Just past the toilets.”

Erela didn’t pause to thank him again as she darted away. How had he found her? Granted there were only so many places she could be given the bus route, but the phones? That fast? Who was this guy?

She ran down the back-alley, cursing herself for her stupidity and the situation. She should have told the bus drive she was being followed, asked him to for some kind of help. But then he might have radioed for the police, and she couldn’t let her name out there…

The obstacle-course created by crates, trash cans, towers of old boxes, and dumpsters only added to her agitation and worry. What was going on?

Erela’s breath burned in her lungs by the time she approached the end of the alley. Her entire body froze, and her eyes flew wide when a figure stepped from beyond her view to stand right in the middle of the way. She could only stare in mute fear as she beheld the intense frown and cold eyes that locked on her.

She clenched her jaw and brought her brows low over her eyes in an attempt to mask her downright terror. “Alright, what do you want? I don’t have time for you,” she snarled her bluff.

His expression didn’t waver, but Erela felt a condescending smirk fill his marble-face.

“My master will speak with you.”

His voice—soft, low, and smooth—sent fear screaming down her spine as her blood ran cold. Never in her life had such fear gripped her. Not even when those men from Alliance had her, either before or after she found out who they were and what they wanted.

“I told you I don’t h…”

“Silence.” His one word demand brought just that.

The look in his eyes told Erela he recognized her strong words for the lies they were. What was she supposed to do now? She stood rooted to the spot as approached her. His hand clamped around her upper arm like an iron vice, leaving her unable to do anything but wince.

“Follow.”

“N…”

“Follow now.”

Erela gave up her pathetic attempt to struggle when his hand tightened. She wondered if it was just fear making her think he could crush her bones or if he really was as strong as he seemed.

Pain shot up through her left side before Erela even realized she’d crashed into the ground, and was then staring at the concrete only inches away from her face. The sound of something slamming against metal ripped through the air, cutting through her haze. Erela jerked her head up in attempt to sort her confusion.

Her jaw dropped in terror as comprehension forced its way to the forefront of her mind. She wasn’t sure who’d slammed who against the dumpster, but the view before her made her blood run cold. The stranger pinned Damien against the brick wall, one hand at his neck and the other locked around both of Damien’s wrists above his head. Damien’s storm-grey eyes burned with rage while his lips twisted into a feral snarl of fury.

“No!” Erela shrieked as she shot to her feet to run at the man. “Stop!” She pounded both fists against his solid back as tears flooded her eyes.

The red-head swung to look over his shoulder at her and raised an eyebrow. His lips pressed into a thin line before opening to allow the passage of his impassive voice. “Shut-up.”

Faster than she could see, Erela felt something slam against the side of her face. A light exploded before her eyes as she crashed to the ground some four feet away. The young woman looked up again in time to see Damien’s face contort further in his rage.

The explosive appearance of leathery wings at Damien’s back sent both men flying away from the wall. Both Damien’s hands clenched around the stranger’s throat as his knees pinned down the arms. Erela had never heard a sound like the one that rose from Damien’s throat. She had no adequate description for the violent, growling-like tone except for ‘hatred’, and it felt something like how she imagined it might feel to have her fingernails ripped out.

The stranger lurched forward, throwing Damien off balance. The man jerked one arm free, ripping his own skin on the concrete in the process. The force of the bloody strike on Damien’s jaw, coupled with Damien’s backwards swing in attempt to avoid it, sent the raven-haired man flying back against the wall once more.

Erela scrambled to her feet and moved to run towards him, when she found herself staring at the stranger’s chest even while his hand reached out for her. Her eyes shifted to Damien, who leaned against the wall for support as he forced himself to his feet. His free hand clutched at his face in attempt to stem the blood flow from his mouth and nose as on eye pinched shut.

“Damien, run!” she shouted as she backed away from this terrifying stranger. If he was Alliance, he must have determined Damien’s weakness. She couldn’t let him get caught now, not with the weight on her mind of Bradley’s heavy warning of what would happen if Alliance every found a blood-bound’s weakness.

“No!” he shouted back, pain rippling over his face as well as down her spine at his words. “Don’t touch her!”

She gasped when she watched the stranger’s expression flicker as he winced. Before she had time to analyze what that might mean, Damien lunged again. Erela ducked out of the way as both went flying.

Tears streamed from her eyes as she watched the two struggle—disbelieving the speed and intensity they displayed. Erela’s brain hardly had the chance to tell her that one of them received a blow before the strike was returned. She could only cry out for them to stop as she watched their deadly dance—Damien, wrath in motion, and the stranger, cold and precise as the very hand of death.

A knife.

A quick swipe by the stranger that flipped Damien to the ground.

“No!” she shrieked, terror filling the air around them as horror wrenched her gut.

At the same moment, a calm steady voice broke through the haze of aggression and fear. “Hold, Arnon.”