Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
BIANCA
A s we make our way into town, Brandon tells me all about his childhood and growing up with his brothers. Jesse and Roman never truly felt left behind by not being chosen. They loved their brother and helped as much as they could. Regardless, as teenagers, they still did dumb things. One of their favorites was using a spell to make themselves look like Brandon and showing up places. The one place that always caught up to them was Luzes. Unlike all other places, Luzes never cared to cater to Brandon Oscuro.
The brothers were, without fail, apprehended and put in jail cells. Twice, they dared come here. Breaking in and trying to go as long as possible without being caught was the game they played. The Grant Chief guard of Luzes would always take it upon himself to contact the Guard General of the Royal Force to come and collect the trouble boys. This only happened a handful of times, but it fired up the entire inspiration of our plan.
It was simple and straightforward. We get caught and placed in a jail cell. The Grant Chief Guard Gabriel will get called to meet us. He will contact Roman, the Royal Force General, and he will collect us.
Brilliant, if it wasn’t for the fact that almost every single variable from this equation is based on the actions of someone who’s no longer here. Everything is new. Gabriel is not the same Grant Chief, and Roman is not the same Guard General. Brandon is not his teenage brother sporting a shitty spell. Everything could go sideways in an instant. We could get caught and accused of espionage.
We walk for about an hour before we finally reach the edge of a town. Home porch lights are the only sign that anyone lives here. It sounds and feels like a ghost town. The entire place looks to be deserted. No nightlife here, apparently. After we walk deeper into the town, we hear signs of life. The center square has a few establishments open. I shove my shoulder lightly into Brandon’s and gesture to the building that looks like a diner bar.
“Let’s go.” He nods.
We walk inside and find it alive with activity. Almost every table is taken. Despite the business of the place, no one looks up at us as we enter. The few who make eye contact with us don’t look twice. It’s almost creepy how little people seem to care about two newcomers.
We take a seat on an empty corner table with two chairs. We haven’t been sitting for longer than a minute before a woman approaches us. Her expression is bored and hurried.
“What can I get you?” She taps her pen on the notepad in her hands.
I look around and spot an older man eating soup with such an expression of bliss. I gesture to him. “Whatever he is eating.”
The woman turns to see what I am pointing at. “That’s something he makes at home and brings here to eat. ”
I blink. “Why would he do that?”
“He gets lonely.” She taps her notepad again.
I look at the menu written on the boards above the bar.
“Surprise us,” Brandon says to hurry this along. She murmurs something under her breath and takes her leave.
“I’m allergic to seafood, Brandon.” My scowl narrows at him. “I can’t just order and eat anything.”
I look back at the old man eating the soup. He surely looks to be enjoying his meal.
“Focus,” Brandon reminds me. “I don’t believe these people are so disinterested in strangers. They must have alerted the guards already.”
The girl returns with a basket of fries and other fried items. She leaves it on the table without a word.
“Maybe every single one of them is a guard,” I say. The fries are crazy good. I try a pink sauce sitting in the basket, and I have to fight my moan from escaping. It’s amazing.
“You think so?” Brandon asks while looking around with fresh eyes. He examines the surrounding patrons with new lenses. “It’s a possibility. All the angels I’ve seen have wings.”
I shake my head. “They only show them when they want to.” I take another fry.
He nods. “It’s always been in political events, so it’s reasonable to think they were showing them as part of their uniform.” His eyes watch as I take another fry covered in a pink sauce. His smirk is teasing. “Good?”
“Good evening.” A strong voice says over us before taking a chair from another table and bringing it to sit with us.
I’ve seen Gabriel only a few times, but I could never forget this face if I tried. He is a big guy, nearly seven feet tall. Saying he’s beautiful is an understatement. Most angels have a lure of beauty, but Gabriel’s is beyond that. Shoulder-length golden brown hair curling at the edges frames his strong jawline perfectly. He has a boyish yet manly look about him. Today, his jaw is clean-shaven. His golden-brown eyes always carry a glint of humor, which is currently missing. Instead, his scowl is firmly in place. It turns from Brandon to me, back and forth.
“Good to see you, Gabriel,” Brandon says with a smile that would have anyone confusing them for good old friends. “We’re here to talk to you.”
I lean back to watch it play out.
“Is that so?” Gabriel's tone conveys he’s not amused.
“We have an offer you won’t be able to resist.” Brandon crosses his arms and leans back. His posture is comfortable, and his voice is relaxed. “This is Bianca.” He gestures to me. Gabriel looks in my direction, and I give him a little wave with a tight smile. “She has a very special gift. We want to offer the use of the gift in exchange for a favor.”
Gabriel’s solemn expression breaks as a laugh escapes him. His grin is mocking. “What makes you think I care enough about her gift to exchange a favor?”
“Her gift will allow you to see your brother.” At the mention of Mel, Gabriel’s gloating expression falls. “He is who we want the favor from, not you.”
At the mention of his brother, Gabriel’s eyes darken and a confrontational posture takes over his body. I can see he’s ready to spring into action.
“We know you only get one day a year with him,” I intervene. “With my gift, you can see your brother outside of the winter solstice.”
His eyes widen ever so slightly, like we have placed a tempting fruit in front of him.
“At what price?” he whispers. His eyes look like a mirror to my own. Mel is his Matias. I can see plain as day that there isn’t a price he wouldn’t pay .
“I can assure you it’s nothing that could cause harm or suffering to anyone,” Brandon promises.
I’m uncertain how true that statement truly is.
“I’m listening.” Gabriel doesn’t fully trust what we are saying, but he isn’t contradicting us. Brandon takes this as a good sign.
He tells him everything. Well, almost everything. He tells him how he came to find me in The Black Castle. He goes over the cursed book and how essential it is to open it. The only time in the story Gabriel looks away from Brandon is when Matias is mentioned.
A very brief and vague mention of potential links to troubles plaguing Puerto Quinn, and it’s done. Gabriel knows everything he needs to know. I can tell he wants to ask more, but like I suspect, he doesn’t. He’s been alive way longer than any of us. Making him all the wiser.
“Mel won’t hear you out without me,” Gabriel says. “If we’re going to do this, I want to do it soon.”
Before Brandon can say no again, I place my hand on thigh, stopping him. “Remember that little spell your brothers used to use that landed them here?”
Realization crosses his eyes. Leaving the tour early isn’t possible, but leaving someone else in our places might be.
“We need to return to Puerto Quinn, but we can meet you at Fierno in three days.”
“Three days,” Gabriel echoes.
His hand extends to Brandon. The prince eyes the gesture with displeasure. I’m about to ask him why the sour face when he meets Gabriel halfway. They clasp hands. A vine the color of gold begins to grow until it covers their hands and elbows.
“What’s that about?” I eye Brandon’s glowing vine tattoo until it disappears. “Are you bound to show up in three days or die? ”
“Don’t be absurd,” Gabriel cackles. He eyes the fries and snacks left in the basket with interest. “It will make his location known to me.”
“I’m the Crown Prince of Puerto Quinn. Can’t really go missing, can I?”
Gabriel shrugs like the thought is beside him. “What exactly was your plan?” The angel asks between bites.
Brandon gives him a sheepish look. “Wait to get apprehended, and hopefully, keeping with tradition, you would call the Guard General of the Royal Force to pick me up.”
Gabriel thinks about that for a minute. “Isn’t your brother the general?”
“Yeah.” Brandon stands. “But I’m glad that wasn’t necessary. We will meet again in a few days.” He extends his hand toward Gabriel to shake.
The angel simply looks at the stretched hand, then a sinister smile spreads across his stunning face. “Why break tradition?”
A flash of light blinds me momentarily. I shield my eyes with my hands and lower them once the light has finally died. We are no longer at the bar. There are granite walls on three sides and long, tall cell bars at one end. We are in their jail.
“So what now?” I ask Brandon, who stands there like he cannot believe what happened.
“We wait.” He looks out into the hallway. “He should be here any minute.”