The Guardian Lineage Read Online Free

Calebra.”
    â€œA what?”
    â€œA Calebra,” Mom said again. “A Deviled Cat.”
    â€œA Deviled Cat.”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œAnd why was it mailed to me?”
    Now Mom played with her wedding band. The thing had never left her finger since Dad had died, more than ten years ago.
    â€œMichael, our family comes from a lineage of Guardians, who protect the world from its own evils.”
    â€œDad was a cop? I thought you said he was—”
    â€œA lawyer, I know.” Mom dabbed a wet compress to the cuts on her cheek, staining the towel in the process. “He wasn’t a cop, and he definitely wasn’t a lawyer.”
    â€œThen what was—”
    There was a sharp knock on the door. Mike jumped, but his mother didn’t even move. As if she was expecting it.
    Mike put a hand out. “I’ll get it.”
    That proved to be unnecessary. The door opened by itself, despite the doorbolt. Mike didn’t even have time to think what the hell? as a man wearing a full-leather outfit, complete with a double-buttoned vest and long trench coat, stepped into the room.
    It was the same guy who had saved Mike a few hours earlier.
    â€œI’ll need the names of all the kids who were here,” the man said immediately, looking from Mike to his mother and back again.
    Mom nodded without looking at the guest. “Uh huh.”
    The man surveyed the room for a few moments. “Your package did not contain a deathworm,” he said, just audible enough for Mike to hear.
    A deathworm? Mike thought. Sounded like something from Star Trek, or Star Wars, or Star-whatever-tv-show-ripoff…
    â€œIt was a Calebra,” Mom said softly.
    The man’s head snapped around. The guy studied the damage again, a little more intently this time, then stared at Mom. “And nobody was killed?”
    â€œNo.”
    The man’s jaw worked for a moment. Then he grunted, apparently satisfied. He reached into his overcoat. “This is for the boy.” Out came a wedding-invitation-sized envelope, bound together by fancy white lace.
    Mike had noticed his mother’s lack of surprise the entire time – how could he not – but what happened next caught him totally off guard. Mom jumped up and knocked the letter to the floor, as if it was on fire. “Get that away from him,” she hissed, a poisonous look on her face.
    The man removed his sunglasses slowly, deliberately, as if he thought he was on TV or something. Mike drew back, startled. The guy had a scar that slashed across his temple and into his cropped black hair, as if someone had caught a hook in his eye and yanked it backwards.
    â€œThe Headmage is sending out early invitations,” the man said. When Mom didn’t respond, the man added, “In light of recent events.”
    Mike waited for some sort of argument from his mother, but she gave no hint of recognition. If anything, she looked as confused as he did.
    The man’s lips pouted. “You don’t know, do you.”
    â€œYou don’t exactly keep me informed, Seth.” Mom sat back down. Then she turned to Mike, as if just realizing he was there. “Mike, this is Seth Stockton. He’s… well, a friend of the family.”
    Mike crossed his arms. A friend of the family, huh? Mike had never seen him at any family barbeque. That is, if Mom had ever made a family barbeque, Mike would’ve wondered… oh, whatever…
    Stockton’s jaw worked. “There were… other attacks,” he said, ignoring the introduction. “On the other families.”
    Mom said, “I will not send Michael to Windham. If you think—”
    â€œThey have the book, Sepulchra.”
    Mom gasped. A hand flew to her mouth.
    Sepulchra ? Mike thought. Mom had always introduced herself as Sippy. That was her name, not… what was it? Sepulchra? What kind of name was that? Mike opened and closed his fist to