Page 9 of Entangled (Guardian Academy 2)

I gulp down a long drink of coffee, letting reality sink in. I spent most of my life living in a world filled with danger and have put myself in dangerous positions on multiple occasions. This, though … This is undeniably the worst situation I’ve ever been in. But I’m not about to be a coward and hide out in my room.

“I think I need to get some weapons,” I announce, putting the thermos back between my legs.

His brows knit. “Why?”

“So I can protect myself.” I trace my finger around the lid of the thermos. “It’ll have to be an inconspicuous weapon—no swords or bows or anything like that. Maybe a knife or a Taser. Or maybe I can get my parents to get me a knife laced with siren blood. That’s supposed to be really lethal to almost every creature out there.”

“You can’t have a weapon on school grounds. If you get caught, you’ll probably be expelled.”

“If the Electi catch me unarmed, I’ll probably die.”

He reaches over and puts a finger against my lips. “Try to refrain from saying their name as much as possible. You don’t want anyone to overhear you.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, my lips moving against his finger. “I’m just trying to come up with a plan.”

“I know.” He withdraws his finger from my mouth as he mulls something over. “Let me get you a weapon. I’ll make sure to pick something out that you can carry with you at all times but will be easy to keep hidden.”

“You’re going to pick me out a weapon?”

“Yes. And when I give the weapon to you, you’re going to apologize for questioning my weapon competency.”

“Sounds good to me, but just so you know, I’m pretty hard to impress when it comes to weapons.”

Instead of responding, he gives me an overconfident smile then redirects his attention to the road. “So, here’s the rules for when we get to the crime scene. Under no circumstances are you to leave my side unless I tell you to. Don’t touch anything unless I give you permission. And try not to get too snarky with my supervisor. She won’t be as tolerant as I am.”

A thousand comebacks tickle at the tip of my tongue, but all of them die the instant Jax presses on the brake to slow down for a string of cars parked around a dry field.

“Is this the crime scene?” I ask, straightening in the seat.

He nods, silencing the engine. “Yep, this is it.”

“But it’s so close to the academy.” I crane my neck to get a better look as I undo my seatbelt. My view is limited by SUVs, cars, and people dressed in similar attire as Jax.

“I know.” Fear briefly flickers in his silver eyes, but he quickly composes himself. “It’s actually happened a few times over the last six months or so.”

I set the coffee back in the console. “You don’t think it has anything to do with the academy, do you?”

“There’s been some speculation that it might.” He extends his hand toward the door handle. “I’ll explain everything later. Right now, we have a case to investigate.”

When he gets out of the car and closes the door, I follow his lead, meeting him around the front of the car.

“So, where do we start first?” I ask, tying my plaid shirt around my waist.

“We go look at the damage.” He draws on his sunglasses and starts off toward the dry, grassy field.

I trail at his heels, noting the way people keep glaring at me, probably because I’m a newbie and am technically not supposed to be here.

“Stay close to me,” Jax utters from under his breath as we reach the outskirts of the field where the pavement meets the grass and dirt. “And remember, don’t touch anything.”

I’m starting to nod when my grandpa’s voice fills my head.

Brace yourself, Alana, he whispers. It’s about to start.

Confusion spins inside me. The feeling only lasts a spilt second before an overwhelming wave of despair crashes through me, so powerful I nearly drop to my knees.

Fearing I’m about to collapse, I clutch Jax’s arm.

His eyes drop to my fingers digging into his bicep then rise to my face, his brows furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

Tears sting my eyes. “I think something’s …” I trail off as I catch sight of the field in front of me. The once dry, yellow grass is now stained red with spilled blood, and lifeless, dismembered fey stretch as far as my eyes can see. And the stench. God, the stench … It’s like spoiled meat left out for days to rot in the sunlight.

Vomit burns the back of my throat, but the nausea is suffocated by the sound of voices blasting through me like exploding glass.

Help us!

Help me!

I can’t breathe!

Why are you doing this!

What did we do!

I don’t want to die!

I don’t want to die.

I don’t …

Want to …

Die …

Chapter 7

My head pulsates maddeningly, as if my brain is fighting to escape my skull, fighting to escape the voices. Faint whispers haunt my thoughts then gradually fade like a light mist.

Help …

Please … I … don’t … want … to … die … The last voice slips from my grasp as I return to reality, and the pain in my head subsides.

“Alana.” Jax’s alarmed face is the first thing that comes into focus. “What the heck just happened?”

“I, um …” I blink several times, attempting to piece together what happened, but I have absolutely no idea other than maybe a spirit entered me. It seemed different than that, though. More powerful. Like an army of spirits all screamed at me simultaneously. “Jax, I think something’s …”

Not here, my grandpa whispers. There are too many wandering ears around.

I scan the people around me and note that many are watching me like a hawk.

I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I tell Jax. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, it is.” He presses his lips together with an unreadable expression on his face. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s a lot to handle, especially for someone so inexperienced.”

“I’m fine,” I assure him. “I can handle it.”

I’m not sure if I can, and deep down, I want nothing more than to hide out in the car, away from the pain, blood, and evidence of evil. But every fiber in my being is

pulling me toward that field. It’s the exact same feeling I experienced when I was sitting outside the school this morning. Was it merely a coincidence? Or did I somehow sense that, a handful of miles away, a massacre had happened?

Jax doesn’t seem to buy into my chillaxed act, but he doesn’t push the matter further.

“All right, come on.” He nods at me to follow as he walks farther into the crime scene.

I tail him, matching his steps to avoid ruining evidence as we make our way down a flattened, body-free section of the field.

The foul stench of death still possesses the air. I want to draw my shirt over my nose, but I don’t want to appear uneasy, either.

“Still doing, okay?” Jax asks, glancing left and right at the piles of bodies beside us.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” My voice quivers as a pounding urge to touch the bodies burns inside me. The feeling makes me sick to my stomach. What is wrong with me? Why is my mind suddenly so possessed with such morbidly twisted thoughts?

I hug my arms around myself and continue following Jax. One foot in front of the other. You’ll be fine. Just don’t look down.

That’s all I want to do: look down and assess the damage. Could it be a Guardian thing? Could my powers, or whatever the hell you want to call them, be expanding?

I fight the compulsion to look down for as long as I can, but when Jax grinds to a halt, I stop with him, and my gaze descends.

The urge takes over, the need to touch the bodies so overpowering I can scarcely breathe.

“I need to go talk to my supervisor for a second and get caught up,” he says, skimming the area. “Wait here for a second.”

I nod dazedly as he wanders off. When he’s far enough away, I bend down and brush my fingers along the arm of a female a few years older than me.

When fey are alive, they mostly remain in their human form. But after they die, the glamour fades, and their original form shows through. Some of their forms are ghastly and terrifying, as bad as scenes in nightmares. Others, though, are hauntingly beautiful. The fey in front of me is part of the latter with shimmering violet skin, silver hair dipped in diamonds, lips tattooed with curvy, inky patterns.

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