Fallen Angel of Mine (Overworld Chronicles #3)

Fallen Angel of Mine (Overworld Chronicles #3) Page 25

"You need to go?" I asked him, pointing at the bathroom door.

He shook his head and waved me in with a couple of quick motions. I didn't need another invitation. Several minutes later after doing my business, I stepped into the hallway. The man with the bandanna leaned against the wall across from me, waiting patiently. Something glinted in his hand and a sharp pain pierced my chest. By reflex, my hand flew to the point of discomfort where it found something metallic lodged in my skin. I pulled it away and looked with shock at a large tranquilizer dart.

My brow furrowed. The other man's brow crinkled and his eyes widened. I only realized a split second later, he wasn't confused by the dart. He was probably wondering why I hadn't passed out yet. Because he fired two more shots. Darts sprouted from my torso, little metal carrots in the garden of my chest.

I charged him—or tried to. Instead, my legs gave way and the last thing I saw was a pair of black tennis shoes rushing to meet my face.

Chapter 15

Elyssa

Elyssa stared groggily at the stone floor for a moment before wondering why she found it so fascinating. A string of drool hung from her lips, stretching almost all the way to the floor.

"Huh?" She jerked upright and took in her surroundings. Tried to get up and move, but diamond fiber straps held her fast to a chair.

A chair? Diamond fiber straps?

"What's going on?" she shouted, her voice fumbling through mushy lips as she tried to recollect something, anything to explain her current situation. The last thing she remembered was bagging and tagging a rogue vampire with a fetish for feeding off unsuspecting teenage girls. Even though he looked like a hot teenage Romeo with a foofy hairdo and metrosexual aura, his real age hovered around seventy-five. The dude was positively geriatric by human standards.

Nasty perv.

She shuddered. It was just plain gross thinking about vampires who were old enough to be her great-grandfather trying to date people her age.

Beyond that memory, however, she couldn't remember what had happened next. Had someone captured her? Did the rogue have partners who'd knocked her out and kidnapped her? Panic raced in a white-hot streak from her stomach and through her lungs. Why couldn't she remember?

"Calm down," she told herself, forcing her eyelids closed and slowing her breathing until her racing heart relented to a steadier beat. When she opened her eyes again, she looked around the room, noting its round dimensions, the statue, and the onyx pedestals sitting before her. Recognition dawned in her sluggish brain. This was the communionary. The pedestal where a torch would usually be placed was empty, which meant whatever ritual she'd been taking had already finished.

Had she taken the trials? Was she now a full-fledged Templar?

Excitement consumed the remaining panic. She'd been dying to take the Cho'kai though Father had told she wasn't quite ready for it. Had he finally allowed her? More importantly, had she passed? Perhaps being tied to a chair was part of it. She glanced down at the straps. Nothing she could do would break the diamond fiber. Something on the armrest near her left hand caught her eye. She peered at the letters scratched into the paint: Dvnty crzy bad.

What did that mean? Beneath her right hand were two words: trust justn.

Someone must have been awfully bored to go scratching stuff into the paint. Maybe the trials were easy. Maybe all they consisted of was sitting in this stupid chair. Speaking of which, what was she supposed to do now? Escape? Scream for help? Bolts held the chair to the floor so she couldn't very well move it. Maybe this was part of the test.

Using a trick she'd learned from her brother, Michael, she relaxed her right hand and then contracted the muscles as fast and as tight as she could, folding her fingers and hand into a funnel shape before trying to pull it through the loop in the strap. But the snug fit of the strap allowed no slack to slip her hand through. As she relaxed her hands, she noticed flecks of gray paint lodged beneath the fingernails of her left and right forefingers. Had she been the one to scratch the paint on the chair?

She stared once again at the letters and back to her fingers. Who was—

The door to the room burst open and her brother, Jack, came in, a huge smile on his face. "I heard the bell and came as fast as I could. You've been in here for quite a while, sis."

"Jack? Did I pass the trials? Am I a full member now?"

Her father, Thomas, entered the room. "You have passed a trial, yes. Now it's time to see if it was worth it." He touched the straps on the chair and they dropped open. "What's the last thing you remember, Daughter?"

"Busting that vampire at my high school." She squinted, trying hard to see into the past, but it was like peering through dense white fog. "After that, I came home." Another minute of concentration revealed nothing else. "I guess that's it."

He nodded. "Very good." Taking her by the arm, he led her out of the room.

Elyssa glanced at the rack of torches on the wall near the door. No absences gave her a clue as to which ritual she'd taken. Somehow, the used torch always ended up back in its spot on the rack after the ritual.

Thomas directed her down the hall. "We need to put you on assignment, so I'm taking you out of the high school operation for now."

Elyssa furrowed her brow as she thought of her two best friends, Ash and Nyte, both of whom attended her school. She wasn't supposed to form attachments. That was why she'd chosen a Goth look for her undercover identity. Even though her clothes, makeup, and attitude stood out, most people tended to ignore her like they would any social outcast. But Ash and Nyte had been her friends early on, never judging her by the clothes she wore or the piercings and horrendous amounts of makeup. After a while, she'd discovered she enjoyed her new style.

But part of being a Templar meant following orders no matter her personal feelings. "I understand, sir."

Thomas smiled—a rarity for him. "You will be assisting in remote operations against rogue vampires."

"Remote operations? Where, Commander?"

"Possibly Europe. We'll talk about that more at your briefing," Thomas said.

Europe? Yes!

A thrill fluttered through Elyssa's stomach. Thoughts of chasing rogue supers through the streets of Paris filled her mind. It was all she could do not to pump her arm in celebration. Then again, counting her vampires before they turned might not be a good idea. Western Europe was one thing. If she ended up in eastern Europe—better not to think about it.

No matter the assignment, she'd long dreamed of going on a special operation. Of proving herself to her father after all these years. Jack and Michael had been doing this for ages and finally, it was her chance to shine. Which reminded her of something.

"Jack, I thought you were off on assignment yourself."

He smiled and nodded. "I was, but I'm back for a short time now."

Elyssa's mother, Leia, waited outside the chapel as they stepped into the cool night air. Worry etched her eyes. She gave Thomas a fiery, violet glare, which would have sent a lesser man running for the hills. She offered Elyssa a tight smile. "How did it go?"

"Very well it would seem," Thomas said.

"What exactly was I doing in there?" Elyssa asked. "If I wasn't taking the final trials, I don't know what else I could've been doing."

Thomas sighed. "I'm afraid you won't be happy to learn the reason, but I'll tell you at your briefing."

Elyssa's internal radar twitched with curiosity while doubt spread a sickening glaze across her insides. This couldn't be good at all. What had happened to her? She must have failed miserably at something. The thrill of her upcoming assignment lost some of its luster.

"When is the briefing?"

He led the way into the manor house and turned straight into the war room. "Now is as good a time as any."

Anxious energy burned in her lungs, seeming to remove oxygen with each breath before she could soak it in. She wanted to know the bad news but didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to know how badly she'd failed. The anxiety must have shown on her face because Thomas laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry yourself too much, Daughter. There are some things beyond even our control."

She nodded and tried to relax the taut muscles in her forehead.

Leia and Jack took seats at the large table in the center of the room. Elyssa sat next to Jack.

"Is Michael here too?" she asked, wondering why this looked like a family affair.

"He is. Perhaps he'll join us soon." Thomas pulled a red file from a cabinet. He took a seat. "Now, about what happened—"

"I'd rather not know," Elyssa said, as dread constricted her throat. "I must have screwed up something awful."

"It's in your best interest to know," Thomas said, arching a stern eyebrow. "I expect you to sit quietly and listen. You are a Templar, not some unruly child."

Her fists clenched under the table as the desire to fire a volley of retort nearly overwhelmed her. "Very well, Commander."

He nodded curtly as though he'd expected no other response. "While you were on assignment, the spawn sent an agent, one of their own, to subvert you. Using his ability to manipulate emotions, this spawn very nearly had you working with him. Thankfully, you realized how impaired your judgment had become and came to me for help. We determined the only way to cleanse this taint was for you to take the White."

Elyssa felt her jaw sag open and sucked a hard breath into her lungs. Humiliation and rage fought for first place in a war of emotions as her skin flushed with heat and her eyes went to the floor. She couldn't even look at her family. How had she let a spawn get close enough to her to influence her? Her training and senses had never failed her and yet, she'd somehow let a demon spawn so deep into her life she'd nearly started working for them?

Unbelievable. Unacceptable!

She jolted to her feet and backed away from the table. "H—how? Why are you allowing me to stay in the Templars?" She nearly tripped on the chair as it toppled behind her. "I'm unfit for duty if I couldn't sense a spawn."