Libra Ascending: An Epic Urban Fantasy Romance (Zodiac Guardians Book 1) Read online

  “Ah yes, the holes. The worst part of a donut.” He slants a cheeky look at Brielle. “Do you think we can go rogue and not do this bit?”

  Brielle has to suppress a smile. “Ah, no. We do this the right way. This will be a normal donut.”

  Tristan winks. “I guess I could try that.”

  After a few minutes, the dough is cut into about a dozen donuts. Brielle gently slips her fingers around one and lifts it from the counter, offering it to Adalind to put into the hot oil.

  Adalind puts her hands up in surrender, backing away. “Ah-ah, I’m not getting anywhere near that fryer.”

  Brielle chuckles and shakes her head, then carefully drops the donut into the oil. Without saying anything, Tristan begins picking up donuts and doing the same. He drops the first one in too high above the oil and it splashes.

  “Here, you have to lower it right above the surface,” Brielle says. Without thinking, she puts her hand on his over the fryer.

  Static snaps as their hands touch, and they both pause and glance at each other. Tristan’s blue eyes look deep into hers, and the electric current coursing from her hand is more than just static, seeping into her chest and bathing her with a delicious warmth.

  Brielle blinks it away and looks back at their hands, remembering what they’re supposed to be doing. “There, now let it go slowly.”

  Tristan releases the donut with far more ease and, this time, there’s no splash.

  “Perfect.” Brielle removes her hand and looks everywhere but at Tristan, hoping the moment isn’t as awkward as she feels.

  The dough bubbles and browns in the oil as they watch.

  “Are you doing anything after school?” Tristan asks, the sensation of his eyes on her like the blaze of a spotlight.

  She slowly looks up at him. “Sorta. I have a meeting at three o’clock. Why?” Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as she waits for him to answer.

  “Well, I heard there’s a great fro-yo place down the road. Creamy Dreams. Do you know it?”

  Everyone in town knows Creamy Dreams. But as Brielle almost never has money—and few invites apart from Adalind—she’s only ever gone a couple of times when she fails to refuse Adalind’s insistence on paying for her.

  “Yeah, I know it,” she replies, tucking her hair behind her ear as she ducks her head.

  “Do you think you have time before your appointment to go with me? Fro-yo is better with friends, after all.” He flares a sharp brow, looking too handsome to resist.

  Holy crap! Did he just ask her out?

  Brielle is struck dumb for a moment, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering into a frenzy.

  “Not today,” Adalind interjects, leaning over the counter to shoot him a quietly hostile glance. “Her meeting is very important.”

  Shocked by Adalind’s interruption, Brielle frowns at her. “No,” she immediately retorts a bit too loudly. Then she turns to Tristan. “I’m sure I can spare a few minutes after school.”

  Yes, the meeting with her hopefully new parents is massively important, but getting asked out by the hot new guy in school isn’t something that happens every day—or ever. What if this is Brielle’s one chance at normalcy? Does Adalind really expect her to pass this up? Surely she can do both.

  Adalind rolls her eyes but says nothing as she leans back. Tristan’s smile looks as if he’s just won the lottery.

  “Great, it’s a date,” he says, making her heart spike. “And don’t worry, Mom”—he casts a teasing glance at Adalind—"I promise to have her home before three.”

  A date. Brielle’s never actually been on one before.

  A date and meeting her prospective new parents all in the same afternoon.

  Maybe her luck is finally changing.

  6

  Brielle

  “I can’t believe you’re going on a date with the new guy. And right before your parent meeting!”

  Adalind taps the toes of her right foot against the pavement, her arms crossed and hip jutted to one side as they stand outside the entrance of Mirror Point High after school.

  “You really don’t like him,” Brielle states, scanning the heads of the students pouring down the stairs, a nervous ball forming in her belly.

  Adalind scoffs. “I just don’t want him to screw this up for you.”

  “He won’t,” Brielle says, adamant. “It’ll just be a quick, harmless fro-yo. Twenty minutes tops. Then I’ll be back with plenty of time for the meeting.”

  “I hope so. You better call me after to let me know how it goes! The date and the meeting.”

  “You know I will.” Brielle offers a reassuring smile.

  “Okay. Have fun—but not too much fun.” Adalind wags a warning finger at Brielle, then smiles before heading off to her car in the parking lot.

  Brielle hugs her arms as she stands on the sidewalk, waiting. She turns away from the stairs, trying not to look desperate.

  Maybe Tristan just won’t show, and she can forget about him and move on with her day. She really shouldn’t have agreed to this today of all days, but who could say no to that face? And those biceps! She’s never felt this way about a guy before, especially not upon first meeting. What’s the harm? And besides, if she’d said no, he might never ask her again. Normal high school girls go on dates. And as she’s never been on one before, this is an important milestone.

  “What are you doing out here?” a nastily familiar voice chimes behind her. “Don’t you have to get back to scrub floors and sew clothes, or whatever it is orphans do these days?”

  Brielle doesn’t bother to face Cassandra. “Not that it’s any of your business, but the new guy at school asked me to go to Creamy Dreams with him.”

  Cassandra rounds on Brielle like she was prey. “You don’t mean Tristan?” She arches a perfectly plucked blonde brow.

  Brielle isn’t surprised Cassandra knows his name. As Mirror Point High’s own resident Gossip Girl, she always knows everything that happens at school.

  Cassandra coughs an insulting laugh. “What would a hottie like Tristan see in a filthy orphan like you?”

  “Careful, Cassandra, your skin is turning green,” Brielle says in a steady tone.

  Cassandra narrows her eyes, then shrugs and makes a show of looking at her fake pink nails. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I saw Tristan drive off a few minutes ago. Looks like he bailed.”

  The words are meant to sting. But Brielle knows as soon as Cassandra begins saying them that they’re a lie.

  She can’t let Cassandra see that, though. Cassandra doesn’t know about Brielle’s lie-detection, and she doesn’t need further fuel to torment Brielle. So Brielle frowns and casts a look of disappointment down at the sidewalk.

  Satisfied, Cassandra hmphs, turns on her heel and sashays away.

  “I didn’t know you and Cassandra were friends.” This time, the familiar voice behind her is a welcome one.

  Brielle turns, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. “We’re not. She was trying to convince me that you were standing me up.”

  Tristan shakes his head as he looks in the direction Cassandra just left. “I’d never do that. Even if I had to bail for some reason, I’d let you know. I like to, at least, think I’m a gentleman.”

  “You might be the only one left in existence,” she teases.

  He chuckles, then pulls his phone out of his front jeans pocket. “It’s two-o-five. We’d better get going.”

  He nods for her to follow him as he steps off the curb into the parking lot toward a sleek black truck. When they reach it, he opens the passenger door for her. “Your carriage awaits, m’lady.”

  “Nice truck,” she says, the nervous ball in her stomach tightening as she lowers herself onto the leather seats. So this is what he meant when he said he got lucky. His parents must be loaded!

  “Thanks,” he says, closing the door then jogging around to slip into the driver’s seat.

  As he starts the engine, their proximity strikes her
. She’s never been this close to a guy, and in such a private, confined space. A sort of claustrophobia sets in, though not entirely an unpleasant feeling. It’s all she can do not to devour every inch of him with her hungry gaze.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” he says, a welcome end to the silence. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable with all the parent questions. I get that the whole topic is a sensitive one, and I shouldn’t have drawn it out of you like that.”

  “It’s okay, you couldn’t have known,” Brielle says with a shrug. “You said you’re adopted. How old were you?”

  “I was a baby, so I’ve never really gotten to experience what it’s like to be an orphan.” He looks at her as he drives down the street, some unknown emotion darkening the blue of his eyes. “I’m sorry you’ve been one for so long. I imagine it could get quite lonely....” He offers a smile that seems sincerely sympathetic.

  She looks down at her lap. “Thanks. But hopefully not much longer. That’s the meeting I have after school. With a couple who’s considering adopting me.” The reality of that weighs down on her once again, making her heart thump against her ribs.

  “That’s great! I’m really happy for you.”

  Thanks to her curse, Brielle can tell he means it. She slides a glance out of the corner of her eye. Handsome. Sweet. Nice car. Tristan seems too good to be true. If Cassandra hadn’t appeared on the steps of the school with her nasty lie, Brielle would be wondering if she’d stepped into an alternate universe.

  The drive to Creamy Dreams is a short one, with the shop being only a few blocks down the road from the school. When they go inside, a handful of the more popular kids are already occupying tables. Tristan fills his cup with chocolate fro-yo, then piles on gummy bears and M&Ms. Brielle opts for blueberry fro-yo with no toppings, conscious of the whispering around them.

  “Would you like to sit outside?” he asks after he pays the clerk at the register. “It’s a really nice day.”

  “Sure,” she says, happy for the excuse to avoid the stares from her classmates.

  The tables outside are all empty, so they have their pick. Tristan heads toward the one farthest from the sidewalk, and Brielle is grateful for the privacy it offers.

  She sits opposite him, putting a spoonful of her fro-yo in her mouth as she frantically debates what to say. Her mind is a complete blank. What do people even talk about on dates?

  “What would you say is your special talent?” he asks, ending her debate on conversation topics.

  “My special talent?” she asks.

  “Yeah, aside from being a wiz in the kitchen. What’s your superpower?”

  Brielle pauses. She should say there’s nothing outside of making a mean cheesecake. But for some reason she doesn’t want to evade the question. This is her first date, and something about Tristan makes her trust him. “Okay. Well, I can always tell when someone is lying.”

  “Really?” Tristan’s arms are crossed over the table, his gaze fixed on her, and Brielle notices he hasn’t touched his fro-yo.

  “Try me,” she invites, surprising herself with how flirtatious she sounds.

  Tristan purses his lips and tilts his head. “Alright. I’ll spout random things about myself and you tell me if they’re true or not.”

  She nods, accepting the challenge.

  “I’m seventeen,” he says.

  “True.”

  He nods. “I was in New Jersey before I came here.”

  Her lie alarm goes off. “False.”

  “Lucky guess,” he says. “In fact, I was in Twin Buttes before this.”

  “Even though that sounds like it would be a lie, that’s true,” Brielle says with a giggle. “And it’s pronounced ‘byoots’ not ‘butts’.”

  “I know, it’s just funnier that way.” He chuckles. “Okay, here’s another one: my favorite color is blue.”

  The signal in her chest goes off again, and she shakes her head. “What is it really?”

  “Wow, you’re good at this,” he says. “Don’t judge, but my favorite color is actually purple.”

  His hand reaches up to his neck and fingers a smooth purple gem that she hadn’t noticed hanging from a cord around his neck. Is it her imagination, or is the gem glowing slightly?

  “Alright, how about this?” She looks up from his necklace to his face, and though his expression remains playful, there’s a serious glint in his eyes. “I’m an alien prince from a far away planet, and I’m here on a mission to find others like me.”

  Grinning big at his obvious lie, Brielle pauses and stares at him for a long moment, waiting for the lie radar to signal inside her brain. But it never does. Her grin fades. Something isn’t right. She replays his words again in her head, wondering if she could have possibly misheard him.

  “Wait...what?” she asks, the nervous ball in her gut twisting for a new reason.

  He leans closer. “I’m an alien prince on a mission to find others like me,” he repeats. “Is it true or a lie?”

  Brielle shakes her head and leans back on the bench, compelled by the sudden urge to create distance between them. He isn’t lying. That means he truly believes what he’s saying.

  What has she gotten herself into?

  He leans closer still. “You know, don’t you. You know I’m not lying.”

  She clears her throat and looks around, anywhere but at him. “What time is it? I should probably get going.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Brielle,” he says, all play gone from his tone and expression. “I really am an alien prince. The Heir to be the next Gemini Zodiac Guardian, to be exact. Seventeen years ago, my planet was attacked by the greatest evil in the Universe, and I was sent to Earth for protection, along with twelve other Zodiac Guardian Heirs. Now it’s my responsibility to locate them, and I believe you might be one of them.”

  Alarm bells were ringing before, but now they’re a siren, a cascade of screaming for Brielle to get out of there.

  Tristan believes every single thing he just said to her. He’s insane! And absolutely not the kind of person she should be involving herself with, not on the eve of her possible adoption. She needs to be normal, and this guy is as far from normal as it gets.

  “I really do have to go.” She puts her hands on the table and stands up to leave.

  “Please, wait.” He shoots up and puts his hand on top of hers. “I had a vision about you. You’re in danger.”

  How could his touch burn in the most delicious way even as his words make her want to run?

  “Whatever you’re involved in, I just can’t right now, Tristan,” she says, pulling away. “I have to go.” She hops over the bench and takes her uneaten fro-yo to the garbage can.

  “At least let me drive you,” he implores, walking after her.

  “No, my bike is at the school, I can get it on my own.”

  To her relief, he doesn’t follow as she walks back toward their school.

  How could she have so grievously misjudged him? Tristan’s a bucketful of crazy in a charming, handsome package. And she has no room for crazy in her life. She has enough of her own crazy to sweep under the rug.

  Disappointment stings Brielle’s eyes. The attraction, the date, it had all felt like a sign that things were looking up. That she might deserve to have what others take for granted.

  That she could be...normal.

  Straightening her shoulders, she shakes off the feeling that this is an omen. At least now she can focus on what’s really important. The only thing that had ever been important.

  Find a family.

  Belong.

  7

  Tristan

  Dammit.

  Dammit.

  Dammit.

  Tristan watches Brielle hurry away, her shoulders hunched around herself protectively. He went in too hard, too fast.

  What was he thinking? He’s never done that before. There’s a formula—smile, connect, ask some questions about their parents, probe for anything unusual.

  Th
is time he smiled. She smiled. They connected.

  And that’s where he lost it.

  Because the sense of connection was different to anything he’s ever experienced. It threw the formula out. And then she said she could sense lies. Could that be a superpower? Could she be…

  Shaking his head, Tristan heads back to his car. The vision this morning has got him on edge. Add that to the growing uneasiness as they keep coming up empty handed, town after town, and he let the impatience get a hold of him.

  Until he learns otherwise, it was nothing more than that.

  And now Brielle’s hightailing it, thinking he’s one short of a baker’s dozen. Climbing into the car, Tristan grips the steering wheel. It’s time to do some digging.

  Taking a left at the end of the block, Tristan glances in the rear view mirror. It’s a habit Zarius instilled in him from the day he learned to drive. Always be aware of your surroundings, Tristan. You’re not the only one looking for the Zodiac Heirs.

  A group of girls are entering Creamy Dreams and a flash of blonde catches the light. Cassandra. Will she be killed by a Skin? Will he fail to get to her in time?

  And why the hell does Chardis go after her in the first place?

  Tristan’s knuckles turn white as he stops at a set of traffic lights. The public library is only a couple of blocks away—always the first place to check when they arrive in a new town. And today, more than ever, he needs answers.

  His cell dings as he parks the car, Tess’s name lighting up the screen.

  You at the library?

  Tristan smiles. Great, he’s becoming predictable.

  Yep. If all goes well, I’ll be getting dirty.

  Most people of this generation don’t realize that there’s a wealth of information that doesn’t exist on the internet. It’s found in the archives and basements of libraries. Under about six feet of dust.