by Allie Jean
“Where’s Father Ralph?” Andreu asked, just noticing the priest’s absence. Titus glanced at Chantal’s sleeping form, his eyes narrowing in deep thought.
“He fell.” The mood turned somber, all humor forgotten. “Both you and Lukas stay behind to take care his body. He fell honorably protecting the innocent,” Titus ordered. All the brothers bowed with their closed fist over their heart in honor of his sacrifice. He then turned to Mathias, watching him stroke hair off Chantal’s forehead. “Matty—”
“Don’t call me that,” Mathias said. “That is not my given name.”
Titus smirked and bent down to his brother’s level.
“Maybe I should start calling you Nick then?” Titus joked, smiling when Mathias rolled his eyes. “Let’s get her out of here. The safe house is close, and it is time for her to know the truth.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’ve been hiding something from me?”
Titus shrugged in response, giving him a telling smile before heading in the opposite direction. Titus glanced over his shoulder, nodded once more at his fellow warriors, and took off running.
“Time to move,” Mathias whispered to Chantal as he cradled her close to his body before running in the same direction as Titus.
Snarling fangs, dripping blood, chaos all around. Sounds of a sharp blade zinging through the air, hitting something soft and forgiving made her sing in triumph. The power, the victory at her enemies defeat, served as an addictive force. Always the kind of person who’d avoid confrontation until left with no other choice, she felt like a different person as she picked up and fought with Father Ralph’s sword with eerie precision. Yet, behind that red haze of death, part of her feared her own actions.
In her dreamlike state, she could see the battlefield in front of her. She remembered those goat-like demons coming after her. Striking them down had been somewhat cathartic, the only comfort against the anger and injustice burning inside of her over the priest’s death. One by one, she’d taken down her enemy, her confidence growing with each strike, not understanding the resulting carnage until it was all over and she could look upon the gore, horrified that it had been by her hand and not her protectors. She felt a power within herself as she picked up the weapon that gave her the strength and ability to fight without fear or consequence.
Had she really caused that damage, created all of that carnage littering the ground?
While her mind wanted to deny the truth. She knew without a doubt that she’d done all of it. She could still feel the icy cold handle of the metal blade in her hand, the hard lines of its limitless strength digging into her palm.
“Chantal.”
She opened her eyes. Mathias sat beside her on a plain mattress and box spring, clutching her hand tightly.
“I was wondering when you were going to wake up.”
“How long was I out?” she asked, swiping a hand down her face and then back up, rubbing her eyes.
“About ten hours. It’s almost sundown.”
Ten hours? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that long. The rest of what he’d said took a moment to sink in. When it did, she panicked. Did that mean the Kajola would be coming for her again once at sunset?
Her heart pounded and every muscle went rigid, as if preparing for another intense fight. The warrior inside of her stretched her arms, taking over her persona and thriving on the sudden rush of adrenaline. Was that what happened, her warrior had been awakened? She had a warrior inside her? She was a warrior?
A soothing hand brushed down her cheek, bringing her back into the present. Her mind reeled with so many unanswered questions. She would get those answers, but for now, she found comfort in the presence of her warrior.
“Don’t worry, beautiful. You’re safe here.”
Here . . .
Where were they?
“This is the closest hallowed ground from the cathedral,” Mathias said. “It’s part of an old warehouse the diocese set aside for emergencies. I guess they practiced some kind of rituals here in the past. Lucky for us, sacred ground never falters or changes.”
Chantal swiped her hand over her sweaty brow as she took the place in. Comprised of gray cement, the small room had no windows and only one door for in or out, making her feel safe, and claustrophobic at the same time.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. His expression warmed her heart, while her mind kept bringing up the images from the disjointed, violent memories she’d rather forget.
“I’m not sure. Everything is kind of foggy.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
Chantal thought about that for a moment before she nodded.
“I do, but it’s like I’d watched it from the outside looking in. I don’t know how to explain it. I just remember seeing the priest die, and then getting really upset. After that, it’s as if a light switch flipped and I was watching myself grab Father Ralph’s sword and go after the goat-like creatures. Is it weird that I liked how watching her made me feel?”
“Yeah . . . it was indeed something to behold. It’s kind of hot, though.” Mathias looked down as if embarrassed by his words.
“What?” Chantal laughed at his observation. “Me going Xena, Warrior Princess is hot?”
Mathias nodded. “You fought with skill and honor as a warrior would. I believe that is what you felt. Something buried deep inside you was reborn.”
“I guess.” Chantal smiled, feeling proud all of a sudden, but her joy diminished when she saw his expression change.
“Also quite terrifying,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. She could understand how her behavior might have frightened him. If she were honest with herself, she was frightened as well. She sighed, hating the conflicting, yet, seductive emotions parading through her fragile mind.
“No, not you. It was seeing you surrounded by those Seethers and not being there protecting you as I should. If anything had happened . . .” His fear and honesty made him more human to her. The thought of him scared for her safety melted something inside her heart, making her feel more vulnerable. She was seeing her warrior in a new light that she did not fully understand. She steered away from it, focusing on some other explanation for his statement.
“You can’t be everywhere all of the time,” Chantal said, running her hand over his arm. He looked down at her hand, his muscle flexed underneath. She stilled her movements, afraid they were unwanted. He watched her hand fall to her side, a pensive expression marring his handsome features.
“I guess not,” he said, still staring at her hand. Chantal studied him for a moment before he looked up again. For the first time, she really looked at him. He looked tired, and she wondered if he ever slept. He remained such a mystery to her that she found herself second-guessing everything she knew about him. So many unanswered questions. Maybe now was a good time to ask and change the subject, for now. “So what happened out there?” she whispered, pulling her legs in. “Do you have any idea why I went all Bloody Mary?”
Bloody who? Mathias thought.
“I don’t.” He sighed. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. But you’re kind of . . .”
“Unique,” she finished for him, and he nodded.
“Does that bother you?”
She sighed. “I guess I really haven’t had time to process any of this,” she replied honestly. “This has all been so far-fetched that none of it seems real.”
“I don’t seem real?” he asked. This time, it was his hand on her arm. Releasing a shaky breath, Chantal kept her gaze fixed on his skin on hers, not wanting to divulge more information to him with her always readable expressions.
“No, you’ve always seemed real to me, even when you were just a shadow watching over me at night.”
“You know,” Mathias said, clearing his throat and sounding uncomfortable. “I take my duty quite seriously, watching over my charge, but I never watched you without honor. Getting dressed, I mean. I alwa
ys retreated back into the Shade when you were . . . well, you know . . . indisposed.”
Chantal smiled when she realized he was blushing. She’d never thought she’d see the day when the great warrior, Mathias, felt uncomfortable. “Sure you did,” she said. “I’ll bet you were the perfect gentleman. What, with a bedroom full of teenage girls, there couldn’t possibly be any motivation for you to stick around to sneak a peek.”
“I’d d-didn’t, I swear! You would question my honor as well?” He sounded so flustered that Chantal genuinely laughed for the first time in what felt like ages.
“I’m just messing with you,” she giggled, nudging him with her shoulder. The action made her sore muscles ache, and she hissed as the small stab of sharp pain registered.
You okay?” He asked.
“I’m fine,” Chantal said. “I guess my body’s just not used to that much of a workout.”
Mathias didn’t respond, but he watched her intently.
“I’m not going to break,” she said. “It takes a lot to knock me down, Nick.”
Mathias looked frustrated yet somewhat amused. “We’re back to using Nick, huh?”
Chantal shrugged. “What can I say? I like the name. That is how I always referred to you in the private. Seemed appropriate.”
“I kind of like you using my given name.”
Chantal decided that hearing such uncertainty from a man like him seemed like an oxymoron. So much strength and vitality at his fingertips, his softer side made him that much more endearing to her. She was learning that changes in personality could happen suddenly if the situation called for it. She couldn’t help the memory that overtook her, but she pushed it aside once again.
“Mathias,” Chantal said.
“It’s a good name,” Mathias said. “Strong. Honorable.”
“What? You afraid I’m going to start seeing you as a Nancy boy if you keep showing me your softer side?”
“A what?” Mathias asked, one eyebrow quirked. Chantal laughed.
“Never mind.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to modern terminology.” Mathias shook his head in an exasperated motion.
“I don’t think I’ll get used to running for my life,” Chantal said before thinking. She didn’t mean to sober the conversation, but she had brought them back full circle. It couldn’t be ignored. Firming her resolve, she set her mind to figuring out the details. Better to be prepared next time. She knew, without a doubt there would be a next time, so she’d like to avoid walking into an emotional or physical ambush.
“Why were you sent to watch over me?” she asked, and Mathias looked a little tense.
“Titus sent me,” he said. “I knew that you were an Oracle and it was my job to make sure the others didn’t find your location.”
“Did you know that the Kajola were looking for me?”
“No,” he said. “I mean yes, but not specifically you. The Kajola always hunt the Oracles, but Damon and the others seemed to want you above all others. I’ve never seen such a direct attack with such numbers.”
“Well, we were staying in makeshift hideout full of Oracles. They probably knew we were all there.”
“Perhaps,” Mathias said.
“Thank you, by the way,” she said, hating that her voice flooded with emotion all of a sudden. “For fighting those . . . things. For getting me out of there.”
“It’s my job.”
Chantal hated his automatic response. “Yeah, well . . . thanks for doing your job, I guess.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just nice to know you’re so committed to your work. Nothing but protocol and procedure. That’s how you army types are, right?”
“Chantal, did I do something wrong?”
“Nope, not a thing. But you probably shouldn’t use my name outright like that. Wouldn’t ‘Subject Number One’, or ’Oracle Number One,’ or something like that, be more appropriate?”
“It’s not like that,” Mathias said. “You’re more important than a number.”
“Oh excuse me, then. How about Princess Oracle? Does that work better?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” she said, throwing the covers off her legs. It was then she realized that her pants were missing, and she quickly covered herself back up. “Where are my jeans?”
“They were bloody and torn,” Mathias said. “I had to toss them out.”
“My shirt is a little bloody too. It seems you were fine with leaving me sleeping in that.” She said, glancing at the stains in question.
“You don’t have anything on underneath that. It wasn’t as easy to get off without . . . complications.”
“Huh,” Chantal said, crossing her arms over her chest and flushing in embarrassment. “Such a gen’lman and sol’jur. Wou’n’t dare let nud’ty complicate the sit’iation.”
“You know, you have an accent when you get mad,” he said, smiling at her.
“I tend to do that when my anger boils over. Now, where are my pants?”
“What do you need them for?” Mathias asked, his amusement notably increasing with her growing frustration.
“I’d like to get out of this bed at some point.”
“There’s no need to just yet,” he replied, glancing at her now covered lower half.
“Whoa there, Cowboy. Eyes up here. I liked you a lot better when I thought you indifferent.” She placed a finger under his chin causing him to look up.
“Indifferent.” Mathias seemed taken aback. “Why would you think me indifferent to you, Chantal?”
“Never mind.” She huffed and focused back on the immediate problem—her lack of pants and subsequent partial nudity.
“I’d like a shower and something to eat. Then, maybe I can start to understand this carnival ride you’ve taken me on.”
“Perhaps I can offer some help,” Titus said as he stuck his head around the heavy metal door. He tossed her a bag, and it landed on the bed with a dull thud. Despite her need to dig through its contents, hoping she’d find something to freshen up with, she ignored the bag and focused on the warriors.
“What’s going on?” She glanced between the two brothers. Both of them were staring at each other as if having a silent conversation. They seemed to do that a lot. Neither of them answered right away, and she felt her frustration mount.
“Look, this crazy hunting party out there has to do with me, correct? I’m tired of being kept in the dark. I need to know what you two are so keyed up about. I have a right to know if has anything to do with me. Don’t I?”
Titus simply nodded.
“I have to tell you something, Chantal, that might not be easy to hear.”
“What are you talking about, brother?”
Her heart rate kicked up a notch at the realization Mathias was in the dark with her.
“Your memories have been tampered with, as I’m sure you’ve figured out due to the revelation of your true father’s identity,” Titus said.
“Why?” Mathias said.
Titus didn’t address him, yet answered as if Chantal were the one asking.
“Inside your mind, you have knowledge that is important to the success of our campaign. This information also contains secrets that may be hard to face.”
Mathias sat up, crossing his massive arms over his chest. He’d situated himself so that he was shielding her. She placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I can handle whatever you tell me.”
“Chantal, you once had a little sister who was murdered by your older brother, Damon.”
Expect maybe that.
“E-excuse me,” she said, her eyes blinking. Perhaps she’d heard him wrong.
“Damon is her brother,” Mathias said through clenched teeth.
Chantal could only stare in shock at what she was hearing.
“He is the oldest of three siblings born this century to the Fallen warrior, Quintus,” Titu
s said like he was reciting a history lesson.
A key word stood out to Chantal, and her mind began processing a thousand different scenarios.
“This century?” Chantal’s said, and she felt a little faint when Titus nodded.
“Of course, Quintus has had other children in the previous centuries, but those are of no consequence to this conversation.”
“No consequence?”
“And my brothers question my honor?” Mathias said. “How could you keep something like that from her? From me? You put me at quite a disadvantage and her in mortal danger because of this.”
“It wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t safe.”
“How could I protect her from such an adversary when I knew nothing of it. What right did you have to put us both in that kind of peril?” Mathias said.
Titus looked at him for a moment with no emotion. A silent conversation passed between the two brothers.
Frustrated and more than a little discombobulated, she held her hands up.
“Okay, I’m down with sibling rivalry and a fight between brothers now and then, but this is my life . . . well, my former life . . . we’re talking about here. Can we get back to the subject at hand?”
Both men turned to her.
“Are we talking about the same Damon, here? The one who just tried to kidnap me for torture and eventual death? That Damon?”
After a moment, Titus took a step closer to her, reaching out as if he wanted to touch her face. Chantal could see Mathias stiffen beside her.
“Leave her alone,” Mathias said, rising abruptly.
“I have to lift the ward from her mind,” Titus said calmly. “She has information we need.”
“What kind of information?” Mathis said, but Titus ignored him yet again, increasing Mathias’ anger, and frustrating Chantal to no end.
“I know you have many questions,” he said, and Chantal rolled her eyes.
“You know, I don’t think I like hanging around you two,” she said. “Since we’ve met, there’s been nothing but revelations and fighting for my life. In a short forty-eight hour period, my identity has been changed, I have no idea where I am, and my world just isn’t making sense anymore. I feel like I’m living in the Twilight Zone. Take me back to Regina’s! Good Lord,” she said, clutching her hand to her chest. “I never thought I’d say those words out loud. See what you do to me?”