A Guardian Angel-in-training. A soul-eating djinn. A werewolf ex-convict torn between love and vengeance. More than a heart hangs in the balance.
Season 1 of Into the Wild Dark
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Wrongfully-convicted Jack Slobodnik wants his life back. Four years...
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Ch. 8: Sunny's Attraction
August 11 | Late Noon
Jack Slobodnik was my sixty-day trial case.
I stood at the patio door observing him, my AngelGuard t-shirt sodden with sweat from my workout. From where I stood, Jack's body was a fully blossomed flower. Legs spread wide, lying flat on the weight bench, the streamlined chiseled stomach and chest sprouted biceps that effortlessly raised the bar. His tan skin gleamed, and I couldn't look away. His intensity was a thing of glory.
The next minute, the bar was slanting, slipping from Jack's fingers. I witnessed his diamond bright eyes dim, and I envisioned the weights falling and crushing him. I had less than seconds to survey the area for onlookers before springing into action. No one was out. Tapping my powers as a Guardian-in-training, I crossed the distance between us in time to catch the weights. In a blur of sovereign speed, I was at his side.
I peered into his stalwart face. Light brown lashes formed crescents above sallow cheeks. He slumped in an unnatural position, completely out of it. "Jack! Jack, are you okay?" I tossed aside the bar and shook him vigorously. No response.
His skin was feverishly warm. I worried he had overheated. I had to get him inside. Gritting my teeth, I tucked my hands beneath his sweaty arms and dragged him into my apartment. My care-taking supplies were there. It was easier than carting him to his parent's place and traveling back and forth.
I man-handled his deadweight over the metal ledge of the sliding glass door, past the TV stand that didn't have a TV. I stretched him on the mock ashwood floor between two mid-century modern chairs and the sunflower yellow sofa.
Ever since finding him in that macabre house of death and dissolution, our situation had devolved further and further outside the scope of normal. Normal Guardians-in-training didn't contend with other Supernaturals vying for the souls of their wards.
I paced before Jack's prostrate form, puzzling through that particular situation. Calling my mentor Wallace for advice seemed an option, but Jack's entanglement with Darcy Cyprian and the Ashivants had happened afterhours. Had I been supposed to keep track of him even when I was technically off the clock? It had to be a test. I couldn't call Wallace.
Our kind had a limited awareness of people's fate, governed by laws specific to that awareness. But there was a hierarchy. There were archangels, devas and devi, and the demonic aristocracy on one level. Then below them, there were djinn, lesser angels, and demons. As a full Guardian angel, Wallace had more knowledge of destiny than I did. He could tell the future, or potential futures.
Maybe that was why he had tried to deter me from taking on Jack Slobodnik. However, since I had taken on this challenge, I refused to prematurely concede defeat. Djinn aside, I could handle a simple matter of overheating.
I wrestled off Jack's ribbed tank and stripped him down to his shorts. I grabbed a throw pillow for his head. I retrieved an icepack from my freezer and wrapped it in a dish cloth, applying it to his temple. Electrolytes. I had an electrolyte drink in the fridge. I grabbed a bottle to try to coax him to drink it.
