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

by Tamar Sloan

  She swallows, the gulp audible in the silence of the truck. “Who is Chardis, and what does he want with me?”

  “Chardis is…damn, Zarius could explain this so much better.” He looks at his house again, chewing his lip and combing his hand through his hair before turning back to her. “Chardis is basically a conscious mass of dark matter. He has no soul, no empathy, no concept of right and wrong. He’s pure evil, and the most destructive force in the Universe. Do you remember I told you that I and the other Zodiac Heirs were sent to Earth after an attack on our space station?”

  She nods, eager to hear more.

  Tristan continues. “He was the one who attacked. The history of the Universe has been one long battle between Chardis and the Zodiac Guardians. We’re the only thing powerful enough to fend him off, to stop him from destroying one planet after another. Centuries ago, previous Zodiac Guardians sealed him away in a prison that was supposed to be impenetrable, but he managed to escape, and now that he has, he’ll stop at nothing to kill off every last Zodiac Heir before we can come into our true power. That the Skins are after you can only mean one thing—you are a Zodiac Heir.”

  Her head is shaking before she even realizes it. “You made this all sound so fantastical earlier. Princesses and magic and soulmates.” Her eyes narrow at him. “You never said anything about people wanting to kill me. You lied to me, Tristan.”

  His shoulders slump. “I didn’t lie, I just left some things out.”

  “Omission is lying, it’s just a form that I can’t detect,” she retorts. “And you used that against me.”

  “I had to,” he insists. “If I had told you about the assassins after you, about the fate of the Universe being in our hands, you would have shut me down for good. I needed you to want it, needed to get you close to the stones.”

  He’d said something about stones during the chase, when she was buzzing with too much adrenaline to ask about it. “What stones?”

  “The Zodiac Gems are what allow us to access our full power.” He pulls the purple gem at the end of his necklace out from under his shirt collar. “When a Zodiac Heir touches their stone for the first time, it glows, recognizing its new master. And it will only glow if its Zodiac Guardian touches it.”

  “That was the test you were talking about,” she says. “The reason why you wanted me to come to your house.”

  He nods.

  “And what does that whole soulmate thing have to do with anything?” she asks sharply, still sour about being manipulated by that topic.

  “For all the regions of the Universe, there is one Guardian, one person endowed with unique powers to protect that region of space. But the Gemini sector has two Guardians, one male and one female. Both born at the exact time on each of the twin planets that govern the region. Two halves of one soul, they are destined to be each other’s perfect match. And when their two powers come together, there is no force more powerful. I am the male Gemini Heir.” His fingers absentmindedly rub the stone hanging from his neck. “It’s my duty, my purpose, to find the female Gemini Heir.”

  Tristan’s got that look in his eyes again, that look that bores into her soul, both seeking and filling a need at the same time.

  “And you think I could be her.” The hostility has left her voice, and her pulse has actually slowed.

  Tristan nods. “There are too many signs. The way I feel about you, that pull… I’ve never felt anything like it. I know you’re an Heir, now we just have to see if I’m right about which one.”

  Her breath is almost completely gone, but she summons enough to say, “And the way to do that is for me to touch the stones?”

  “Yep,” he says with a sigh, sinking back into his seat. “Which are in the basement of my house that’s currently surrounded by pitch knows how many Skins.”

  Brielle cocks her head. “Pitch?”

  He blinks, then his lips tip into a small smile. “Sorry. I hear it so much from Zarius that I forget it’s not common on Earth.” His smile drops and he inhales sharply. “Zarius. I need to warn him about the Skins. And I can only hope he and Tess aren’t home.” He pulls his phone out of his jeans pocket and starts to text.

  Brielle looks outside, watching for any sign of the same shadows she saw at the Pierces. But the scenery isn’t as open here in town as it was in the country. There are too many light sources and large shadows cast by houses and cars.

  “How do you fight something you can’t see?” she asks. How can I fight them at all? Visions and lie-detection are about as useful in a fight as a sneeze.

  “Luckily, I’ve been trained by the best to do just that,” he says, looking down at his phone anxiously. “But there’s no way of knowing how many Skins there are, not until they show themselves. And I can’t risk you getting caught up in it, not until you have your stone.” His leg bounces under his phone. “Come on, Tess, answer me!”

  Concern for parents she’s never met tugs at her gut, reigniting the concern for her own would-be parents. Would the Skins have left them after they chased her and Tristan away? Would the Pierces be safe? She’d never be able to forgive herself if something happened to them because of her.

  “So what’s the plan?” she asks, her ability to sit still fading with each passing second.

  Gripping his phone, he growls under his breath. “They’re still not answering. And we can’t just wait.” He quietly unfastens his seatbelt. “I’ll sneak in. As long as I stick to the shadows and don’t make a sound, I can get past them and go inside. I’ll get the stones and get out. If anything happens before I come back, start the truck and drive to the most populated area you can get to. They don’t like to make a scene.”

  Tristan’s getting ready to leave the car, and the sudden fear that she might not see him again strikes through Brielle like a lightning bolt. Her hand shoots out to grab his arm. “Please come back,” she whispers, her lower lip quivering.

  He pauses and meets her fretful gaze, holding it for several breaths. Then he leans closer and reaches up to cup her cheek.

  This caress. This touch is so much more deliberate than the handful of times they’ve made brief physical contact. It fills her with the most euphoric energy, and all she wants to do is melt into his warm hand.

  She settles for putting her hand over his and savoring the feel of his skin on hers.

  “I will come back. I promise.” His hand lingers for a moment longer, neither one of them wanting to let go.

  Finally, with one last sweep of his thumb over her cheek bone, he withdraws. But before he can turn away, he frowns and squints out the window over Brielle’s shoulder.

  “What is it?” She looks behind her, seeing a girl walking down the sidewalk. Wait, that’s not just some stranger. “Adalind?”

  “Does she live around here?” Tristan asks, calculation wrinkling his forehead.

  “I’m not sure, I’ve never been to her house,” Brielle answers, her tone escalating along with her anxiety. “She’s only ever come to the orphanage.”

  They both watch as Adalind moves closer and closer to the house Tristan’s been staring at.

  “Will they hurt her?” she asks, unable to look away in case a shadow flies by and swallows her best friend into oblivion.

  “They might. They’ve been watching you. They know who your friends are. And she’s getting awfully close to my house.”

  Resolve driving her, she unfastens her seatbelt.

  Tristan clamps his hand around her wrist. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

  “I have to warn her,” Brielle asserts. “I can’t just let her walk into a trap she can’t even see!”

  “No way!” He pushes a button on the door and all the locks click. “Right now, the Skins don’t know we’re here. If you go out there, they’ll see you. You have no idea how important you are.”

  She jerks her wrist but Tristan’s grip holds. “I am not more important than she is.”

  “Yes, you are!” he argues.

  She scowls at him
, feeling the clock tick with each step Adalind takes toward her possible doom. “If I am a Guardian, then it’s my job to protect people, and I’m not going to stop before I even start.”

  “I will not allow you to give yourself away,” Tristan says, frustration rising in his tone.

  The moonlight catches on the screen of his phone that had slid slightly under his leg on the seat.

  “I may not have to.” She grabs his phone and dials Adalind’s number.

  “Hello?” Adalind answers.

  “It’s Brielle. Stop walking right now, turn around and make the closest right,” Brielle instructs.

  “What?” Adalind stops and looks around. “Where—”

  “Don’t say another word,” Brielle warns. “Just walk the other way right now and don’t call attention to yourself. I’ll meet you around the corner and explain in a minute.”

  There’s a pause, the chirping of crickets coming at her in stereo.

  “Okay.” Adalind hangs up then starts walking in the opposite direction, turning her head all around in search of Brielle.

  They wait until Adalind is safely around the corner just behind them before slipping out of the driver’s side of Tristan’s truck and creeping over the sidewalk after her.

  Brielle has no idea what she’s doing. What is she going to tell Adalind? Does she tell her everything? Risk losing her only friend?

  If it comes to it, that’s what Brielle must do. Tristan says she’s a Guardian.

  If she has to lose a friend in order to save her, so be it.

  21

  Tristan

  Adalind is just around the corner of the next building, pressed against the brick wall. Tristan scans the shadowed alley, straight away not liking where they are. It’s a dead end, meaning they’re trapped, and there are too many shadows, making it harder to spot a Skin.

  But before he gets a chance to suggest another location, Brielle grasps Adalind in a hug. “Thank goodness. Quick, we need to get back to the truck.”

  Adalind pulls back, shaking her head. “What’s going on, Brielle?” She glances over Brielle’s shoulder and sees Tristan, her gaze flaring. “Has he got you in some kind of trouble?”

  Brielle shakes her head. “No. Tristan just saved my life.” She moves closer to him. “I’ll explain it all, I promise. We need to get back to the truck first.”

  But Adalind folds her arms across her chest. “Not happening, bestie. I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s going on.”

  Tristan grinds his teeth. This is the least safe place they could be having this conversation. Another scan of the alleyway shows nothing but a few trash cans and some crates. But Skins could be plastered against the walls from one end to the other for all he knows. Moving to the mouth of the alley, he leans back against the wall. This way he can see the alley, as well as whether anyone’s coming.

  “Look, I don’t understand it fully myself, but dangerous people are here.” The urgent note in Brielle’s voice is unmistakable. “We need to get to safety.”

  “I told you he’s trouble, Brielle! What is it? Drugs?” Adalind steps forward, gripping Brielle’s arms. “Has Tristan made you take something?”

  Tristan resists the need to push off the wall and get these two out of here. Adalind is talking way too loud. “Keep it down,” he hisses.

  Adalind glares at him. “There’s no one here.”

  Brielle steps between them, pulling in a deep breath. “We’re not from Earth, Adalind. And there’s an evil trying to destroy us…and the Universe.” Brielle says the words quietly, hesitation apparent in her voice. This is hard for her to tell Adalind.

  Although Tristan isn’t sure why she’s friends with this prickly, possessive girl who seems to be determined to put them in as much danger as possible. Not only is she not leaving, she’s talking loud enough to get Chardis himself here.

  “Oh my god, he did give you something. You’re tripping.” Adalind grips Brielle’s hand. “You need to come with me, Brielle. Right now.”

  Tristan pushes away from the wall. “Like hell she does.”

  Brielle glances between Tristan and Adalind, clearly torn. Tristan wishes there was time for her to make this choice. Brielle’s had enough thrust upon her over the past few days.

  But then there’s the unmistakable sound of a car door slamming. Tristan glances down the alley way, knowing he won’t see anyone, but still locking his muscles when he finds the street clear. “We have to go.” They should never have stayed here. “They’re coming.”

  Brielle shakes Adalind’s hand free. “The assassins trying to kill us can turn invisible. Please, Tristan can keep us safe.”

  Adalind’s chuckle has Tristan spinning around. “You mean like this?”

  In a blink, she disappears.

  Tristan jolts forward, fury spearing through his veins. Adalind is a Skin! How did he not realize?

  Brielle is jerked backward, her feet stumbling as if someone is dragging her further into the alleyway. Her gaze latches onto Tristan’s, her eyes wide and terrified.

  “Brie—”

  Tristan’s knocked to the ground before he can finish shouting her name. The Skin who bowled him over becomes visible, his face contorted with satisfaction as Tristan’s slammed into the ground.

  His back explodes with pain as every drop of air is rammed from his lungs. But it doesn’t matter.

  Brielle’s in danger. And Tristan was supposed to protect her.

  Before the Skin has a chance to make another move, Tristan slams his fist into the face above him. The Skin’s head snaps to the side, and Tristan makes the most of the momentum. He follows through with an uppercut and the Skin falls to the ground beside him.

  Tristan rights himself to see Brielle further down the alley, still being dragged by an invisible Adalind. A few feet away from him, five Skins appear, one by one. They form a line from one side to the other. A wall of assassins between Tristan and Brielle.

  Raising his fists, Tristan knows they’re wanting him to come further into the shadows of the alley. Fewer witnesses. Less chance for him to escape.

  It’s a trap, but he has no choice. Brielle’s already captured. Without him, she’s Chardis’s prisoner.

  She’s better off dead.

  The Skins wait, their faces cold and hard. Tristan’s going to have to come to them.

  Zarius’s words whisper through his mind. Never face more than you can handle.

  Well, Tristan’s just going to have to handle it.

  He drops his head, his hands clenched by his sides. “You wanna play? Then let’s play.”

  Making like a bowling ball, he runs straight at the middle guy, which is probably what the goons are expecting. At the last second, Tristan hooks left and sends his leg flying wide. The guy closest to the wall never sees the roundhouse kick coming. Tristan’s foot connects with the side of the Skin’s head, slamming him into the unforgiving bricks beside him. He crumples, just like Tristan planned.

  Spinning around, Tristan puts his back to the wall. Now, the Skins line up, one behind the other. He’s no longer facing four, but just one at a time.

  Tristan grins. “Actually, I don’t mind this game.” He beckons with his hand. “Your move.”

  The Skin lifts his fists, his face consumed with the desire to kill. The guy behind him tries to step around, but Tristan twists right and the first Skin follows him, blocking the view for the guy behind him.

  One at a time. This, Tristan can handle.

  The Skin comes at him, and all it takes is a duck and weave for the Skin’s fist to slam into the wall behind Tristan. The Skin’s howl of pain is cut off by Tristan’s uppercut. Tristan shoves the man back, and his comrades have to jump out of the way of the Skin’s unconscious body.

  “Kill him!” Adalind shouts from further down the alley. “This one we’ll keep, but he’s not worth the trouble.”

  Tristan’s grin returns. “I like that Chardis thinks I’m trouble,” he growls.

  When
several more Skins materialize behind the others, Tristan blinks. It’s like he suddenly has triple vision. The Skin he was facing steps back, joining the others as they spread out, forming a semi-circle around him.

  Uh. Oh.

  This time, they don’t come one at a time. Two leap at him, fists ready, another three already behind them. Tristan gets in a couple of good hits, knocking one Skin to his knees, before the first blow hits him in the solar plexus.

  His body wants to double over but Tristan won’t let it. He throws out a kick, but it misses, and a Skin on his left jabs him in the kidneys. Pain explodes through Tristan as he staggers back, hitting the wall behind him.

  There’s no break from the beating though, because more punches come. They slam his face, his chest, his gut. Within seconds, Tristan’s knees give out. He pushes away from the wall, falling onto all fours.

  Zarius’s words slice through Tristan’s mind. Never let them get you down on the ground. You’re too vulnerable.

  Which is exactly how Tristan feels as he watches the boot sailing toward his ribs. He groans as it slams into his side with all the strength the Skin possesses. Tristan curls into himself as pain cannonballs through him. He could’ve used Zarius right now.

  As the second kick connects, Tristan wonders if he’s going to vomit up his shattered ribs. His suit could’ve come in handy, too.

  The third kick comes from behind and Tristan goes from curled to arched on the filthy ground. His insides feel like they’ve been turned into mashed potato.

  Brielle screams. It’s the sound of terror.

  And Tristan’s failure.

  He struggles to get up, knowing consciousness won’t be with him for much longer. Another kick, maybe two, and there’ll be no ribs left to protect his vital organs.

  But the next kick doesn’t come. Tristan looks up, pain turning the world blurry. The Skin who was standing over him is gone, sailing through the air and slamming into a trash can.