Michael (The Airel Saga, Book 2) - By Aaron Patterson Page 0,14
for all that?
Where did I go wrong?
It was so simple. All he had done was fall in love with one of the Fallen, one of the Immortals. He messed up, blew his mission, killed the Seer and loosed the Bloodstone from its vessel—and for that every horde clan would be tracking him down ruthlessly in a week’s time. Or less.
He groaned.
He touched the scar where Kreios healed him with it—the Bloodstone. He could feel the evil there as it leached into his skin. In the shower earlier he had seen tiny fingers of red branching out from the center of the wound.
“Just finish her and be done with it! Every Brother is going to be after you for saving her and for killing one of your own.”
“Shut up!” Michael yelled into the air. The sound echoed through the valley and bounced back to him in waves. He sounded to himself like his father. Stanley. Not my father. “Am I…that?”
“Writing in the book is going to get you killed. The Sons of God will stop at nothing. They will hunt you down—and her. It was her destiny to die!”
“Kasdeja, shut up.” He named his old friend and Infernal Brother, his newest adversary.
“Traitor.” It was a vile whisper.
His gut wrenched. He could feel the Bloodstone as if it were inside him. “I should have never…”
“Airel, we’ve gotta talk.”
Kim woke me up early. The sun was just peeking up over the horizon. “Whu? Who…”
“Airel, wake up. I need to talk to you.” Her voice was urgent.
“Kim,” I croaked. “Is that you?” I looked up from my drool-soaked pillow. Oh, that’s nice. Kim looked a little excited, even for her.
“Are you awake?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Thank God I didn’t die again.”
“Okay, that’s not funny. Especially after the conversation I just had with your beau, Mr. Perfect.”
“He’s Mr. Napkins, Kim,” I said, as if everybody knew that. Clearly I was still half asleep.
“Airel, what are you talking about? Wake up!”
“Fine, whoa…okay. What’s going on? What are you talking about?” The cobwebs of a truncated sleep were still clearing away. I felt stiff and sore all over but I shoved the covers down and sat up. “I think I’ve got rigor mortis.”
“That’s not funny!”
“Okay,” I chuckled, “I’m sorry, Kimmie. What’s up?” I sat up a bit on my elbows and looked at her.
“I’m talking about Michael. I’m worried.”
I could see her expression through slitted eyes. “That much is obvious.”
“I mean, do you know who he is? What he’s capable of?”
“Hey—easy, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong! Michael, your boyfriend, the love of your life, is a creep! A liar.” Kim was twisting her hair with a finger. “Do you realize how he thinks about you? I mean, he just told me to my face that you were a ‘job to do’; that he was planning on killing you all along. And that’s not the only thing. He said…he was talking like we’re in some kind of danger here, like we need to get out as quick as possible—”
“Kim, stop. You’re acting totally crazy. Besides, I seem to recall I was the one who used that word on myself, first. By the fire? Remember?”
She ignored that. “Crazy?! Forget you, Airel! I’m your best friend! I was kidnapped and almost beaten to death for you! And all you can do is crack death jokes! I thought you were actually dead, and now you’re back but you’re not the same and I’m worried about you because of Michael freaking me out and—” she took a breath “—and I’m crazy! Nice. Glad you think so highly of me!”
“Kim! Caaalllllllmness. Pleeeeeeeease.” I gave her an example by breathing in deeply and then letting it out slowly.
“Ew,” she said. “Brush your teeth before you breathe on me.”
“What,” I hoshed a breath into my cupped hands to check, “do I smell like death or something?”
“Airel!” she growled.
“Well, I’m sorry, Kim! I can tell you’re upset; you’re doing that talk-a-mile-a-minute thing you do when you’re mad. Just breathe,” I said. “Talk to me.” I could see her try to regain control.
She inhaled long and deep, let it out, and then started in just as fast as before. “He’s a killer. He was sent to our school to find you, to become your friend and kill you! He’s part of some secret society called the Brotherhood and he has killed other people before! Other girls…and you’re next. He thinks ‘your kind,’ his words—not mine—are just animals or something.” She stopped to breathe, looking at me