Not cool, I thought, giving Luca a dirty look as he passed by me. I knew he was listening because he had been controlling my mind to not move. I had every intention on putting my saber right through Samia's heart, but he made sure I didn't move a single muscle.
It's for your own good, he replied without looking at me. He had an arm around Clare as he regained his strength. Griffin, who had sent one of his carbon copies here instead of his real self, had disappeared as soon as the copy hit the floor. It was just the four of us, and Sebastian laid on the sofa, his head in my lap, chest barely rising and falling.
The Destroyer. The one who can't give energy but takes away. What Samia—my great to whatever degree grandmother—did. She had almost killed them, and they were virtually indestructible. She had done it three different ways at the same time. Could I do that? I couldn't picture any moment of my life in which I could take down three different demons with a curl of my fingers.
To think that three months ago, I wanted to be a journalist.
I placed my hand on Sebastian's neck, felt his weak pulse, and took a deep breath.
Samia, who had been watching me this entire with that same pleasant face, sighed. "Your boyfriend will be okay. It'll take him a few hours to recover, but he'll live. Now pay attention to me."
My eyes focused on her, even though my hand remained on his neck. If anything happened to Sebastian, the bitch would suffer, family or not. "Talk," I commanded. I left my saber where it was because, as we found out moments after Clare stabbed her, she couldn't be killed. Not by any normal means, according to her.
Samia sighed. "This should be a joyous reunion, my children. Why do you two look so grim?"
She really was a beautiful woman. She didn't favor either of us, though. Of course, there had been three hundred years of DNA mixing.
Clare gave her a dark look that seemed misplaced on her sweet face. "You almost killed our boyfriends."
I didn't bother to protest Sebastian being my boyfriend. The less Samia knew, the better.
"I told you before, I had no intentions of killing them—they're necessary for the prophecy to be fulfilled." She sounded frustrated like she had explained this to us before. She hadn't. She hadn't said anything to us really.
Except: she was Samia, born in Louisiana before it was Louisiana to an African slave and Native American man. She had been born three hundred years ago. She gave birth to our direct line. She had no intentions on killing Sebastian and Luca. Oh, and she was immortal with the Mark of Cain, and if Clare had killed her with anything else, Clare would've been dead herself.
Clare huffed. "You could've fooled me. Sebastian isn't awake."
"I might have gone a little overboard, but understand he did attack me. It was either stop him that way, or have him die in a much more painful way when he put his hands on me," she explained. She turned to me with that same affectionate look she had been giving me the past ten minutes. "I notice you didn't try to stop him, Athena."
Luca lifted his head. Sweat collected on his temples, like he was recovering from the flu. "Mind control," he hissed, wheezing. Clare looked down at him with concern in her eyes, but that look of pure resentment still swallowed her face.
This was not the perfect meeting of ancestors I expected.
Actually, to be honest: I never expected to meet any of my ancestors. At least not while I was alive.
Samia frowned. "Oh. Well, you wouldn't have stopped him, would you, Athena?"
"I think you should tell us why you came here."
The thought of something happening to Sebastian made my skin crawl. I was paralyzed with fear when she finally released that hold on him. My own heart had squeezed tight, as if feeling the same thing he did. Until his eyes fluttered open, briefly, and then I relaxed.
Let him sleep. Luca's voice was a whisper in my mind. With his current state of mind, he'll attack again.
That couldn't happen. If he attacked her, and she felt the slightest bit threatened, she would kill him. Prophecy be damned.
Shouldn't you focus your attention on your girlfriend? Communicate with her? I didn't mean to sound snappy, but I knew Clare would be worried about him. Let me worry about Sebastian. I had been for three years while Luca pretended he didn't exist.
"I dislike it when you all communicate telepathically. It makes me feel…. left out." She shrugged, as if it didn't matter, but I sensed the sadness. And it pissed me off. How dare she act like we owed her our conversation? Our attention? She should be glad I hadn't uprooted her from that recliner she sat in.
I clamped my mouth shut, though, the dark look on my face unwavering. Vaguely, I wondered about the past three hundred years for her. What had they been like? How lonely had she seen? How many people has she watched died? How many grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and more did she see miss out on their Guardian potential and die not knowing the truth? Then again, all of it was her fault.
And to think we shared the same title: the Destroyer.
"I supposed I should tell you all why I'm here," she said finally, when she saw none of us planned on answering her. I pressed a finger against Sebastian's pulse to find it still beating on, weak.
"That would be ideal," Clare mumbled. She sat back in the recliner, Luca laying halfway on her, wheezing like each breath was a struggle to get through. She had her hand wrapped around his, and the other one was on his shoulder. "Why are you here? Who are you? When—"
Samia held a hand up, cutting Clare off. "I tell my story on my own terms." She paused, then gave both of us a serious look I was used to seeing from Grandmother. "Might I also remind you two that I am your grandmother to some degree. If it were not for me, you two would not be here."
Clare's head shot up from where she was checking Luca's chest. I didn't know what she expected to find. "If it weren't for you, then there wouldn't have been generations of lost Guardians."
We would've grown up differently. We might have been twins, fighting side by side. One of us would've been a guy probably—so far it seemed as if the twins were always boy/girl—and we would've argued. All the time. Would she have been as sweet? Would I have been as smart? No idea, but I knew we would've been unstoppable. I could see it now: the two of us back-to-back, sabers cutting through the air as we killed demons. We would've been badass.
"How quick you are to judge, Clare."
I expected someone wiser and otherworldly. I had pictured our ancestors as ethereal and serious, or angelic and fun-loving. Even sweet like Clare, or smart like me. I had expected a Guardian to be nice. At the very least. She was none of those things. Instead of helping us, Samia seemed to be wasting our time and toying with us. I was beginning to feel as if I had done the wrong thing by opening the door.
Samia turned to me. "You're awfully quiet, Athena. You know, oftentimes the Destroyer is the more hostile one. It comes with the territory of taking lives."
I felt Clare's eyes on mine, and I ignored her. "I can become pretty hostile when I don't get what I want." And what I wanted was for her to leave. Trespasser was across the room, and all I needed was to stick my hand out, and it'd be right there. I thought anyway. Clare needed to teach me that trick
"Pray tell, daughter, what is it that you want?" She smirked.
Don't get upset. She's baiting you, Luca told me.
I had half a mind to grab Trespasser and cut her head off, Mark of Cain be damned, but instead, I did the smart thing and wrung my hands together instead of around her throat. Can she beat me?
She was three hundred years rusty probably. She didn't do much demon-fighting anymore, that was obvious. She had no scars, no bruises. Her muscles were lax. She was too thin, almost frail-looking. Trespasser belonged to me, not this Guardian has-been. The only thing she had going for her was her powers and the Mark of Cain.
You can't beat her. Sit down. Listen.
I almost huffed at him. "I want to know why you're here."
"I've already—"
"Samia."
Our eyes met as she tried to judge how I was feeling. I could've given her a list, none of which she would've wanted to hear. Anger. Impatience. Aggravation. Just to name a few.
"Fine," she sighed, finally. "I sense that you're very serious. Relax, and I shall tell you my story."
Three hundred years ago, Samuel and Samia were two of the most powerful Guardians that walked the Earth.
Samuel was the reserved Guardian, kind and gentle. He defended people not just from demons, but from humans and their issues, too. He was, in Samia's words, the one to rush headfirst into a burning building to pull out the humans. She always stayed back during his heroics, preferring to do her job and that only. Demons attack every corner of the Earth every few minutes. My job is to protect humans from demons. Not their silly issues.
At ten, Samia discovered her power and quickly became an expert. By twelve, she could manipulative life force with ease, despite not having a Guardian to train her. Guardians' powers interchanged. One person might be able to do this, but their child could do something completely different. Before me and her, no Guardian could ever manipulate life force.
Usually, a Destroyer could shake the Earth, bringing down buildings with one snap of their fingers. Other times they could move rocks, or breakthrough them.
Most Destroyers were afraid of their gift and the trouble it would bring, but not Samia. She was proud she possessed powers no one had seen before. Her power did seem promising at first—instead of having powers that would take down the whole entire town, she could target one person without even touching them. Guardians celebrated this discovery. A new power was nothing short of a blessing from the Archangels.
Samia continued to practice with her gift, using it only on demons. Since she wasn't allowed to get near them yet, she practiced on animals (a huge red flag in my opinion, but no one really coined psychopaths as such until 1841, if I remembered correctly). Every day she would go outside after training, with no one but Samuel by her side. She would do just enough to slow animals down or make them pass out. She tested her powers with no true intentions of killing them.
During this time she saw all kinds of reactions—some of them shuddered. Some of them seized. Some of them played dead. Some blacked out immediately. It was intoxicating, having that kind of power in my hands.
While she did that, Samuel worked with his power. He had the ability to wield any weapon you put in his hand. With bow and arrows, he never missed. With his saber, there wasn't a swing that didn't connect. He was a powerful fighter, an excellent Protector. Unfortunately for him, he didn't have the power his mother had, which was throwing up both mental and physical shields. He felt, Samia explained as if any Guardian could have that power if only they practiced enough. She neither confirmed nor denied if that was true.
By the time they completed their Ceremony and became official Guardians, they were infamous in the Underworld. On their first day, Samia and Samuel took down eighteen demons. It was easy when Samuel was as deadly as he was with his saber and knives. It was even easier when all Samia had to do was touch a demon to take his energy. They were a little different than animals in that she had to be physical with them.
However, things changed. The more demons she came into contact with, the easier it became to kill them without touch. She noticed something else, too—the more life force she took, the stronger she felt. It was… a beautiful feeling. I was invincible, or at least it felt that way. It seemed as if nothing and no one could come close to actually killing me.
Samuel worried after each battle. She became wild. Reckless. Instead of killing just demons who hurt humans, she killed them all. She listened to no one. I was as addicted to the feeling as any drug. I couldn't go a day without it.
She barely slept. She started going demon hunting in the middle of the night. She justified her actions by saying, "This is what I was literally born to do." Action was taken. She was locked up, prevented from leaving the basement until she was able to see the error of her ways. It took exactly two months, one week, and three days. When she finally emerged, things were different.
From then on, things became normal. They resumed hunting demons. She didn't use her particular power unless necessary and never to kill. She would only take enough to disarm them, maybe send them stumbling back so she could drive a weapon to their chest and send them back to the Underworld.
Samia fell in love when she was nineteen and got married when she was twenty. She kept her last name, as was tradition. He knew what she was, but he didn't care. He didn't question her when she came home at night with dried blood on her. He soothed every nightmare, protected himself as best could against demons, and made sure she was always okay. She found out she was pregnant three years later.
Like most Guardian mothers, Samia took a break when she had her twins. Tabitha and Tory were two beautiful baby girls. It upset her a little that she hadn't given birth to the next set of Guardians—if she had, one would've been a boy and one would've been a girl—but she was so in love with her daughters it didn't matter. Every night she kissed their heads, alternating between who got a kiss first. When she was done, her husband would follow suit and do the same. Before bed, she would kiss him, pleased with her family, all thoughts of her powers gone.
The inevitable happened. A demon she thought she had banished hadn't died. So excited to get to her husband, she hadn't double-checked. The demon entered her home while she was away and killed her husband. The only reason it left her kids alone was that they were with their grandmother.
Angry, Samia chased the demon and found it halfway across the country weeks later. She attacked with Samuel by her side. Things, however, didn't go to plan. That night ended up being the reason she became Disgraced.
There were too many demons. They got their asses handed to them. Samia took the brunt of the injuries because she kept going and going and going. One of the demons sent her flying. She didn't remember much of this night, but she remembered being so hurt she could barely stand up. The world faded in and out, and she felt blood coming out of her nose, sliding down her forehead.
Then there was Samuel.
"He told me—" She stopped, choking on her words. Her eyes glazed over as she relived the night. How many times had she done that? I could see the pain in her face, as clear as if it were the day it happened. "He told me to borrow some of his energy, just to make myself stronger."
She swallowed. Her eyes closed. A single tear slipped down her face, following the path of her jawline, down the curve of her neck. "I tried to stop, I really did. But once I got started, I—I couldn't. The addiction came back full force. His life force was different. It was brighter. Stronger. I was ready to fight again in seconds, but I became greedy. I took and took and took until—"
"You killed him," Clare finished. Her voice was dispassionate. She looked disgusted.
Did I feel sorry for Samia? Not really. It was a strong power to have, and no one had been around to teach her or tell her. She had wanted to avenge her husband's death, but she had also been stupid and careless about it. She hadn't even thought how being injured, or taking the life force from someone descended from angels would be different. A damned idiot. I understood Clare's disgust, and I agreed with it.
"I watched him die in front of me. When I realized what happened, I felt nothing at first. I defeated the rest of the demons, using their life force and taking them out at once. And then I felt the second-worst heartbreak after, directly behind losing a child." She clutched at her necklace. "I'm not sure how long I stayed there, sobbing as I realized I killed my brother. Even though it was accidental, I killed him by being stupid. God, I was so stupid."
Clare shrugged. "So what happened? You took a hiatus? Decided to run away?"
Samia opened her eyes to give Clare a dirty look. "Of course not! I brought his body back home. We met with the Council, and they decided the punishment for me was to strip me of my saber, my rights as a Guardian. It was all they could do—you don't kill a Guardian unless they become evil."
"And killing your brother doesn't count as evil?" I asked. It was a horrific crime, one that could've easily been prevented.
"It was an accident," she shrieked, her voice taking me by surprise. "As it was, I thought there was no greater punishment they could've given before they took my babies away and banished me. But the Angels showed me differently.
"One night, a few days after I was banished, I was visited by them in a dream. They stood in front of me, told me that, accident or no accident, I was not given powers to use against a fellow Guardian." Her hands clenched her dress, twisting it between her fingers. She jiggled a leg as if the Angels were here now, ready to pass judgment and punishment. "Gabriel told me, 'Since you love your powers so much, we have decided you can keep them as long as you live.' Of course, at the time, it didn't sound bad at all. In fact, it took me two months to learn the catch.
"I was given the Mark of Cain because I killed my brother. It meant that anybody who tried to get near me would have something done against them sevenfold." She took a deep breath. "That was not the worst part. The worst part was trying to kill myself. It was waiting in agony every day to die, only to find I was immortal. The only thing that could kill me was my power, and, yet, I couldn't use it against myself. I was doomed to walk this Earth long after it ended. And that is my story."
She was done.
We waited in silence. I had no idea what she wanted us to say. Her accidentally killing her brother didn't absolve her of Disgracing our line? She sounded like a selfish, stupid Guardian drunk on her own damn power and inflated self-importance.
Of course, a part of me didn't want to blame the addict for becoming addicted.
And she was our ancestor and the only one that could teach me how to use my powers. Did I forgive her until I was done using her?
If something had happened to Sebastian, would I have run off and killed, too? Possibly. But it took her weeks to find the demon. Weeks of not sitting down to plan her revenge out. I would never be that stupid, grief, or not. I was too smart, too logical. I never did run on passion or emotion, just my gut feeling, and good sense. I would've factored in the possibilities, calculated my success rate. I wouldn't have gone in blind.
Samia wasn't me, though. It was a different time.
Clare was the first to break the silence. "So why are you here?"
That I had figured out. "She wants me to kill her," I responded. Beneath me, Sebastian stirred, his eyes fluttering for a second or two before shutting again. "She needs her power to die. She can't use her own power. I have her power."
Her earlier comment made so much sense now.
Samia smiled, but it was tired. I could see all three hundred years in her expression, even if she still looked like she was in her late twenties. "While that is true, it's not the only reason I'm here."
Clare held a hand up, face still screwed in disgust. "Let's just run this back for a second—the first time you come to see family in three hundred years is because you want a favor? That is so rich."
I saw a flash of Luca's smile. He was feeling better. No more wheezing, even if he did shake a little.
"I was banished, Clare." Samia sounded irritated again. "I could only watch from a distance, which I did a hundred years later. Truth be told, I was embarrassed. I didn't think I deserved to interact with my descendants."
"You don't."
I tried to bring the conversation to something more productive. "What changed? Your desire for death?"
She nodded. "To some degree, yes. Mother, as well." She stood, letting her hands drop to her sides. Samia walked to the window, looking out of it as if she expected someone to come walking up there. "When you've lived as long as I have, you have time to learn about a lot of things—demons, angels, vampires, werewolves…. all of that exists and more. I know every major and minor demon that has every graced this world. But I have not heard of Mother."
Both Clare and I sighed. Heavily.
That was just what we needed—someone else who hadn't heard of Mother. "Well, you might as well go home. I won't kill you, and you have nothing that can help us."
"After some digging," she continued, ignoring me, "I found that no one was willing to talk. All I knew was that she was after you two. It is true that I came for a favor, but I also came to see if there was anything else you needed my help with. The prophecy? Other Guardians? Training?" The last option was directed at me.
Was it stupid to take training tips from someone who had let their power take over and subsequently murdered their own brother? I didn't plan on letting her near us again. A part of me trusted she wouldn't hurt us, but another part of me was… wary. Despite the feeling that I had found another battle partner, I wanted her gone. Something was very off about my ancestor, and it wasn't the immortality.
Sebastian wheezed below me. The sound made me look down at him, worried, but his eyes were wide open. "Prophecy," he hissed, and it sounded like it took everything in him to say it. He moved his head away from my gaze and toward the window. "Then… go."
Clare rolled her eyes. "I figured out the prophecy earlier. The seven virtues are the seven Guardians. When the sins, y'all, fall in love with us, we can stop the world from ending. Only if everybody is game, though. If one person on either side falls prey to Mother's whims, then it's over with for the world."
For a second I had forgotten the world was in danger and not just me. I had just learned what my power was fifteen minutes ago, now I had to find out how to use it in the next week to defeat someone I didn't know.
Journalism sounded so good right now.
Sebastian pulled himself up, confusion written on his face. "It was.. that easy?"
Samia shrugged. "And that hard, as well. It's not just enough to know the Prophecy. You have to know it down to its very essence—who the virtues are, which virtues they are, who's in love with who. Or who will be anyway." She turned to us, leaning against the wall with that same pleasant smile from earlier. She was about to do something or say something I wouldn't like again.
Luca sighed. "And you know who is who?"
Her laughter tinkled like small bells hitting each other. "Of course I do. Clare is kindness. Like Samuel, Clare has a history of doing what is right. She shows concern and compassion for those around her. She would give her life for the sake of the world, something many wouldn't do."
I knew I wouldn't do it. If it was me or the world, it would be sayonara, world. Mother would just have to come back and raise all the hell she wanted because I didn't plan on dying soon. Not before I had a chance to cross a few more items off my bucket list. "Then what am I?"
She grinned. "Isn't it obvious, Athena?"
Everyone looked at me then, but I was as lost as they were. None of the other six virtues really seemed to fit me. Unless she meant—
"Chasity!" Samia's voice was filled with glee as she turned to the others and explained, "It's only obvious because, of the seven virtues, Athena is the only one whose virginity remains intact.���
Silence. Cricket chirping, bad punchline silence.
How did she even know that? It wasn't something I flaunted around or even talked about. Ever. Only Hillary knew.
Sebastian coughed. "You haven't had sex yet?" He sounded incredibly surprised, which made me feel a little better. Obviously he thought I was too pretty to not have had men wanting to bone me left and right.
My cheeks were starting to burn. "No." My voice was quiet, buried beneath embarrassment. I didn't like having my business shared against my will. Not something private. I turned to Samia. "I really think you've overstayed your welcome."
"Was I ever really welcome, daughters?" She was still grinning, proud of herself for the bomb she had dropped. A bomb I hadn't expected to be dropped. "I'll go, but there is a safe house a few miles from here only Guardians can enter. It has my journal in it, Athena. That can tell you about your powers and how to control them without ending up like me. Next to it is my mother's book, Clare. She has all you need to know about your powers."
With that, she headed to the door.
I knew that wouldn't be the last we would be seeing of her.
My powers were dangerous. I had been excited for them before, but now that I knew what they could do, I wished I could return to who I was two weeks ago—Athena Walker, hunted by Mother, regular human girl with nothing special but the ability to attract demons and wayward souls. I wanted none of this Destroyer nonsense. There had only been one other person with my power in our whole entire line, and she ended up banished. It didn't bode well for me.
We also had to round up five more Guardians and their soulmates. If they didn't know the sins, then we were in for an even worse time because how in the hell do you get them to fall in love? There was obviously no rhyme or reason to the pairings either—I was chastity, yet Luca was Lust. Clare was kindness, and the opposite of Sloth was diligence. There was no possible way to be ready to defeat Mother by the time the battle came. Whenever it came. We could only hope to delay her another day.
Luca clasped his hands together. "Well, that certainly was fun."
As if Luca breaking the silence was what he needed, Sebastian turned his head to me. "Athena, you are neither strong enough, fast enough, or powerful enough to defeat a demon that walks in here." I had heard this voice before but never directed at me. Sebastian was pissed. The type of pissed he only got at other people. "What you are, though, is stupid enough to open the bloody door for a stranger."
Even though he didn't raise his voice at me, I still flinched. "I—"
"I don't want to hear it. You killed a demon by the grace of God and good luck alone," he pressed, glowering. "You are in no way prepared to even defend yourself from the weakest of demons."
His words were shards, embedding themselves into my heart. On the other side of the room, Luca was telling Sebastian something. I couldn't focus, though. I was trying to 1) not cry, and 2) not cry.
"Yet, you opened the door because someone knocked. To do what? Prove a point?" He shot up, red flushing his cheeks. Even though he was hurting my feelings, I still wanted to reach up and steady him when he swayed. "I could've died today. If you want to risk your life, then do it. Die for all I care. But don't do it in my house."
Die for all I care.
One.
Don't cry.
Two.
Don't cry.
I could feel the tears gathering in the back of my eyes. I looked away from his hard stare. I looked down at my hands. "Okay," I whispered, and my voice broke. Calmly, I stood up, trying to keep it together long enough to get to his room.
I'd pack my stuff. Go back to my dorm. Let the demons get me because he didn't care.
He's just speaking out of anger, I thought to myself, shuffling down the hallway to his room. A stupid tear escaped, splashing down my face despite my command to remain in my tear ducts. He didn't mean it.
Sebastian couldn't mean it. If he meant it, then we weren't soulmates. He didn't love me, and I loved him.
He's upset he almost died. It was your fault.
He didn't have to yell at me. Tell me I was stupid. Tell me he didn't care if I died.
I tried to take a deep breath to steady myself, but it turned into a shuddery breath that released the stream of tears. I closed the door behind me and locked it, sliding to the ground.
One.
Stop crying.
Two. Stop crying.