"Well, I broke a nail," I said, holding up my pinkie on my right hand to show her the damage.
"Show off," Mark said, ruffling my hair with admiration.
"What? My nail almost hurts," I pouted.
"You are one badass," Shawn said, giving me a mock punch in my arm. "Those were some impressive moves. That last kick, I bet your foot got this high," he said, holding his hand up near his chin.
"If my legs were longer, it would have been here," I bragged, moving his hand up several more inches.
"Truth, sista," Lynn said, slinging an arm around me. "That was amazing, my friend."
"Thanks."
"Well done, Jordyn," Haniel said, stepping into the circle of well wishers. "Almost flawless," he added, eyeing me critically.
"Almost flawless? Dude, she nailed it," Shawn championed for me.
"Nah, he's right. Flawless is no injuries," I said, holding up my hand again.
"What's a broken nail? You just trashed six Daemons single-handedly," Shawn grumbled, clearly aggravated on my behalf.
"Broken nail, broken finger, broken hand, broken arm, or broken neck. The first four can be fixed, the last is irreversible," Haniel reminded him gravely.
I nodded, accepting his words. This speech was nothing new to me. I'd heard it many times before. Above all else, I was to protect myself from injury. One false move and it could've been my neck that was snapped instead of just a nail.
"I still think it was badass," Shawn muttered as they broke up into groups to search the rest of the village.
Haniel stayed behind with me. After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke. "You did well."
"OMG, was that a compliment?" I teased, nudging him with my hip. "Thanks for letting me come," I said as my anger over his interference the night before finally melted away. At the moment, Emrys seemed very far away, and not quite as appealing as he had the previous night. I was in my element here. My body hummed from the adrenaline I had used to take out the Daemons. Despite all my gripes about my differences, I freaking loved sending Daemons back to hell in an ashtray.
Haniel and the Guides spent the next few hours coaxing the villagers into returning to their homes. The Guides used their gifts to soothe emotions and help those who were grieving for the family members they had lost during the Daemon occupation. While they were working their magic on the traumatized villagers, the Protectors and I cleaned up the village. We buried the dead and made grave markers for the villagers who had lost their bodies to the Daemons. Burying the dead was not fun. It was a glaring reminder of how fragile humans were and exactly how important our jobs were. My emotions felt tattered and ragged as we gently carried the bodies to their final resting place. The death of innocent people weighed heavily on me, leaving a glaring reminder that this wasn't a game. It was real. I tried to direct my mind on anything but the bodies that we lowered into the ground. I didn't want to think about the horror they had faced without any protection. They needed Protectors who were dedicated to help them, not someone who was fraternizing with a potential enemy. I knew nothing about Emrys with the exception that I thought he was hot, which at the moment seemed insanely shallow. Haniel was right. I had other responsibilities that required my attention.
CHAPTER SEVEN
By the time we left the village the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. Of course, when we reached home, the sun was setting, which was disorienting. Everyone was obviously exhausted from the journey. We all slumped on the furniture in the living room while Krista ordered a half-dozen pizzas.
"I'm going to shower," I said, following Krista into the kitchen as I rolled my shoulders, trying to work out the aches and pains that had developed from the mission.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, just stiff. Probably all the digging. I'm not used to that kind of physical labor," I said, not bothering to hide my grimace.
"That's never my favorite part either," she answered solemnly. "Normally, the guys handle that stuff. I'm sure it was hard to see that," she added. "I'm sorry, sweets."
"It's all good. I'm tough, remember?" I replied glibly, trying to hide how much it had bothered me. "Actually, it was kinda weird. Killing Daemons is one thing, but these were real people. Not that I was the one who killed them, I get that. It's just—it all seemed so final, you know?"
"Experiencing death like that for the first time can be tough for a kid. We sometimes forget that, probably even more now that we've seen you in action," she mumbled, pulling plates and glasses from the cabinet.
"Hey, I'm not a kid," I stated. "I'll be eighteen in two months," I reminded her. "I'm fine," I added forcibly, heading toward my bathroom. I wasn't in the mood to debate my age for what seemed like the millionth time. At times like this it was hard to remember that Mark and Krista were only a few years older than me. Sometimes they acted and sounded like they were a hundred.
The hot water worked wonders on my muscles. It was funny that I could train every day with Haniel and not feel as sore as I did at the moment. I stayed in the shower as long as possible, knowing any longer and someone would show up to "see if I was all right." Holding a towel around my torso, I shuffled back to my room to put on my pajamas.
"So, how'd it go?" a familiar voice asked when I opened my bedroom door.
"Holy shit!" I jumped while trying to hang on to the towel that nearly exposed everything I had to offer. "You asshole, what the hell are you doing in here?" I hissed at Emrys who was leaning back against the plum-colored throw pillows on my bed. "Haniel will shit if he knows you're here," I added, closing the door swiftly behind me.
"Haniel left a while ago. You were in the shower for like an hour. I almost thought you were waiting for me to join you," he drawled, crossing his ankles.