Page 8 of Entangled (Guardian Academy 2)

I thrum my fingers against the sides of my legs as I trot backward up the stairway with my gaze on the trees. Just relax. It’s broad daylight. Nothing’s going to happen.

As if to taunt my optimism, the wind kicks up and tosses dry leaves and dirt in the air. I shield my eyes with my hand and strain to see through the debris and into the woods. I feel myself being pulled, drawn by an unseen force, magnetized to the trees … or something that lies beyond them …

My feet begin to move. I take each step robotically. The wind dances more vibrantly. I swear I hear a plea for help …

Help us …

Help …

My phone rings from inside my pocket, jerking me out of the strange trance, only to realize the wind isn’t blowing, and the leaves on the dirt and grass appear untouched.

What on earth? Did I just imagine it happening?

The uneasiness in my gut magnifies as I dig out my phone. Figuring it’s Jax telling me he’s going to be late, I answer without checking the screen.

“What’s up with the tardiness, wolf dude?” I answer, gripping the side railing with my attention on the trees.

Everything seems so quiet now.

“Alana?” my mom’s voice fills the line.

“Oh, sorry.” I sink down onto a step, prop my elbow on my knee, and rest my chin in my hand. Hearing her voice brings an instant comfort to me, and the tension in my body mildly reduces. “I thought you were Jax.”

“Oh … Do you talk to him a lot?” Her tone is mixed with concern and curiosity. I can already see where her thoughts are heading.

“Kind of, but only because he’s training me. And that’s the only reason.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t sound too convinced. “But if you ever want to talk to me about anything, even a guy you like or maybe you’re dating, you can talk to me.”

“Thanks, but I don’t like anyone at the moment, and I am definitely not dating anyone.” Especially since no one at this school can stand the sight of me.

Ever since my grandpa died and was accused of horrible things, no one wants to associate with me. I’ve gotten into multiple fights and gotten detention for fighting, even though I never started the fights and was only trying to defend myself.

“Is everything okay, sweetie?” my mom asks. “You sound upset.”

“I’m fine.” I’m not about to tell her the truth about what’s going on. She’s been through too much over the last week. “I’m just tired.”

“You should get some more rest, then. I’m actually surprised you answered the phone. You usually don’t get up this early.”

“Jax and I got called in to a case, or else I would be in bed.”

“A case? Wow. I didn’t know they let first years do that.”

“They usually don’t, but Jax wanted to take me with him this time. I guess he thought it’d be a good learning experience.” Another lie, but the last thing I want to do is bring her into this mess. The more in the dark she is, the better.

“Well, good. I hope you’re having fun or at least aren’t as upset as you were when you first got your mark.” Worry creeps into her tone. “I just hope you aren’t overworking yourself.”

“I’m not. I promise.” I rise to my feet as I spot Jax’s blue and black striped 1967 Pontiac GTO turning into the driveway. “Hey, Mom, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, sweetie. I just wanted to call and make sure you were okay,” she says. “And to let you know that, if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

I pause mid-step. “Is everything okay with you? You sound—I don’t know—worried.”

“I’m fine,” she insists. “There’s just a lot going on with this whole water fey ordeal. I swear to God, faeries can be such a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dammit, I wish I could tell her about last night! “Maybe after you and Dad save the world this time, you should take a vacation.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” she agrees. “Maybe one on the beach out on some remote island.”

“You two definitely deserve it.” I trot down the rest of the steps as Jax parks at the curb in front of the stairway. “Okay, I’ve really got to go this time. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” she says. “I love you. And Dad says he loves you, too.”

“Tell him I love him, too.” I reach for the car door handle. “Love you, Mom. Bye.”

When she says good-bye back, I cast one final glance at the seemingly peaceful forest before climbing into the car. The smell of coffee, cologne, and vanilla air fresher instantly graces my nostrils.

“I didn’t peg you for being a late kind of guy,” I joke as I fasten my seatbelt and settle back in the leather seat.

He has changed into another black T-shirt and matching combat boots, and his hair is styled messily. He seems irritated, too—well, more irritated than normal.

“I had a couple of errands to run that took longer than I expected.” He shifts into drive, pulls out onto the highway that weaves through the woodsy mountains, and then nods at two thermoses in the open middle console. “I brought you coffee.”

I pick up one of the thermoses. “Wow, that was sweet of you. What’s the occasion?”

He shrugs with his eyes fixed on the road. “It’s just coffee.”

Okay, so Mr. Grumpy Pants has definitely returned.

I prepare myself for a blast of staleness as I bring the cup to my mouth, figuring he probably got the coffee from the cafeteria. But the delicious, warm liquid that nearly melts my taste buds definitely isn’t crappy cafeteria coffee.

“Oh, my God, where did you get this?” I take another sip, and a soft moan escapes my lips. “It tastes amazing.”

He shrugs, glancing at me, his gaze briefly flicking to my lips. “I made it.”

I gape at him. “You made this?”

“Yeah,” he says with another shrug. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a cup of coffee.”

“It is, too, a big deal. I haven’t had a good cup of coffee in weeks. The cafeteria’s tastes so bad it made me want to throw up.” I raise the thermos to my mouth and bask in another sip. “This, though … This is heaven.” I move my nose over the steam and inhale. Oh. My. God. It even smells good. “You should bring me a cup of this every day.”

“Every day?” He cocks a brow. “That sounds like a lot of work for someone I can barely tolerate.”

“Hey!” I mock being offended, pressing my hand to my heart. “How can you say that? I thought we were best friends.” When he gives me an unimpressed look, I sigh. “Fine. Don’t bring me a cup of coffee every morning. Ruin my dream of living in coffee heaven.” I sip my coffee, relaxing back in the seat.

Silence stretches between us as he cruises down the road, fiddling with the radio and heater, growing more fidgety with each mile marker we pass. While he’s not a skip-through-the-rainbows-and-smile sort of guy, a dark cloud of gloom seems to hover over his head.

“Are you all right?” I finally ask. “You seem kind of—I don’t know—pissed off about something.”

“I’m fine.” He reaches for the other thermos. “I’m just thinking about this case we’re going to.”

“Okay.” Vague much? “What about the case is bugging you? Because you seem bugged about something.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know anything about it. Usually, my supervisor gives me a brief rundown over the phone so I know what I’m getting into, but this time, she said she couldn’t, that I’d have to wait until I got there. That’s never happened before.”

“Maybe she was too busy or something.”

“No, it wasn’t that. She sounded … nervous.” He wraps his fingers around the shifter. “Maybe it was a bad idea to bring you.”

My grip constricts around the mug. “Why? I’ve already been to, like, three murder scenes, including one where a zombie was dragged behind a car, and some of his rotting flesh had melted into the pavement.” I shiver at the mental image. “How mu

ch worse could this one be?”

“The very fact that you asked that shows how bad of an idea this is.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “I just didn’t want you being alone all day.”

I set the coffee between my legs. “I’m going to be alone eventually. You can’t watch me 24/7.”

A challenge dances in his eyes. “Wanna bet?”

“Jax, you can’t go everywhere with me.” I grimace. “I need privacy sometimes so I can do private things.”

His eyes glisten with intrigue. “What kind of private things?”

“Nothing you get to know about,” I retort with a sassy grin. “And you want to know why? Because you’re not going to be with me all the time.”

“I know I’m not, but someone is.” He’s being so relentless.

I open my mouth to protest, but he talks over me.

“Alana, this isn’t a joke. What happened last night … This is really fucking bad. These people don’t mess around. Whatever they did last night has a purpose, and until I can figure out what they’re up to, I’m not letting you go anywhere unprotected.”

“I know it’s not a joke, but I know how to defend myself.” I pick up the coffee to take another drink. “I’m not helpless.”

“I know you’re not helpless,” he says, seeming genuine, “but I also don’t feel comfortable letting you be by yourself when the people who cause at least seventy percent of the murders are after you.”

I go all bug-eyed. “Seventy percent?”

He nods. “And that’s just the ones we manage to solve. I don’t even want to think about how many cold cases are connected to them.”

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