The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series)

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The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series) Page 13

by Alexandra Weiss


  Another swooped down and wrapped a hand behind Callie’s neck, and Callie, locating her attacker, shifted her weight onto her left foot before driving forward with her right, landing a brutal kick in the woman’s chest. A third pulled Callie’s arm so hard that Callie was sure her shoulder was tugged out of its socket, and Callie swung her arm around, using the momentum to thrust her fist into the woman’s eye.

  They were moving in on her now, each trying to bring her down. Callie knew there were no odds that spoke in her favor, but if she was really going to die today, she wasn’t going to do so quietly. She felt a searing pain in her leg, and felt warm, sticky blood begin to pool at her ankle. With a scream of fury, she began to land her elbows and knees and fists into whatever flesh she could find near her. She felt the bones in her fingers snap as she landed particularly forceful punches. Her elbow hit something hard, probably a tree, and a firework of pain shot out of it. But meanwhile, she had scratched one woman’s face so hard that it bled, and had pulled one woman’s shoulders down as she rammed her knee upwards, knocking the wind out of that particular assailant.

  She felt horrible and wonderful. Pain was radiating from every nerve ending in her body, but the adrenaline of finally being able to fight without fear, knowing it would all end the same anyways, liberated her from all the restraint she had used, not just in the past few days, but in the past four years. Every jibe she landed, every surface of skin she broke, every eye she blackened, was a small victory for the hermit she had been for the past months. And every time she made a woman cry out, that was a victory for the helpless girl she’d been for the past week.

  She didn’t even realize when she began to lift higher above the crowds. She was still shrieking and flailing in wild release.

  “Callista! Callista!”

  Callie froze, stopping herself, catching her breath. She looked up, and saw that Emeric was holding her.

  “Emeric?” she asked, looking below now. The forest was far behind, just a pinprick once again. “Wh—How did you get me? How did you know?”

  “I heard the shouts,” he said, flying with rampant speed away from that hellish place. Callie saw Alex in the distance, getting closer each moment. But they didn’t stop when they had reached him. Instead, as soon as they had passed him, Alex began to fly with them at the same breakneck speed.

  “She’s hurt!” Alex cried above the soaring sound of wind.

  Callie felt it then; the honest burn of all of her injuries. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, leaving her pain in its rawest form. She glimpsed her body, and was horrified to find that her dress had been ripped almost all the way off, hanging limply now around only half of her body. Her skin was leaking blood from every surface, and where it wasn’t, the flesh was blackened and purpled.

  She whimpered in realization of the extent of it all, beginning to panic once again.

  “Shh,” Emeric whispered, holding her more tightly as he sensed her fear. “Do not look,” he ordered. “We will be home soon.”

  Callie felt the sky begin to spin around her; her head was light. She knew that she had only moments of consciousness left, and looked over Emeric’s shoulder at Alex. He was staring at her with a murderous look in his eyes, his anger flaring so brightly that she was afraid he was going to turn around and take on the Sirens himself. But before she could add this to her list of concerns, the world slipped from her grasp. It was happening more quickly that she would have liked. She’d always thought that when she died, she would have a chance for goodbyes. But there was no chance now, no time left. This was it.

  “Emeric,” she mumbled.

  “Shh, it’s alright,” he said. “Don’t speak.”

  She shook her head flaccidly, needing to say it. She knew he’d risked himself to save her from that forest. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been too late. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  He looked down at her, finally, with a mixture of surprise and guilt written across his features. He seemed at a loss for what to say, but in that second, Callie saw through his usual polite pretense, to a certain underlying defenselessness.

  Her last thought before she lost complete control was that Maggie would have to bury another family member now, but at least she was going to see her parents. And then, without another second of warning, the darkness closed over her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Awakening

  The first thingthat Callie could feel was a distant, throbbing pain in her head. Slowly, she began to feel other, more prominent areas which required her attention. She hissed, even as her eyes opened, when she felt a sudden sting on her leg. When an unmistakable pressure was applied, she bolted upright.

  “Ow,” she said.

  Shay looked up dully. “Oh, you’re up,” she said, blotting a particularly nasty looking divot in Callie’s leg with a hot cloth that smelled like peppermint.

  Shay’s typical box of herbs was seated next to the couch. That was the first thing that Callie saw. The second was that someone had tucked a blanket around her, covering the areas that the torn dress had exposed. But then, as Callie sunk back onto the couch, relaxing her aching upper body against the cushions, she saw the rest of the scene.

  It must have been the middle of the night, for the forest outside was cloaked in darkness. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, the sound drifting eerily through the window. Emeric was sitting, his body slack in sleep, in a chair across from the couch. Alex was asleep too, though he was sitting on the ground, his head resting on the coffee table. Shay’s shuffling across the kitchen was the only sound apart from the steady, deep breathing of the men in the room with her. The scene was oddly tranquil, until Callie felt a spasm in her lower back and sucked in a strained breath through her teeth.

  Alex twitched, and then sat up in sudden alertness. “Callie?” he asked, though his eyes were unfocused.

  “Shh,” she whispered, not wanting him to wake Emeric. “I’m here.”

  His eyes trained on her face, and he pushed himself closer to her. “Callie,” he said softly, fervently, his eyes drinking in first her face, and then the rest of her body.

  “What happened?” she asked, moaning in spite of herself when the pain really began to sink in again.

  “You passed out. By the time we got here, you’d lost so much blood—I…I thought….” He faded out, his jaw clenching, his face darkening.

  She nodded. “So did I,” she admitted.

  He drew a sharp breath, and then continued, “Shay got to work right away. I don’t know how many different medications she used, but she said you should heal in a few days. There’s no permanent damage.”

  “Okay,” Callie said, not really in the mood to talk. Her leg felt as though it were on fire, and it was all she could do to keep her screams inside of her head.

  She noticed then that the anger had returned to Alex’s eyes, painting them a darker shade of brown. “What is it?” she asked.

  He shook his head, looking at the ground, though Callie saw him bite down on his molars. She placed a palm on the side of his face, and tipped his head up so that he was looking at her. He swallowed, his vision shifting from her eyes to somewhere behind her head, as though he couldn’t meet her gaze.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his words hoarse.

  “Alex, don’t,” she said, her heart breaking at the guilt on his face.

  “I knew better. I should never have allowed him to—“

  “Hey,” she murmured, now framing his face with both hands, forcing him to look her in the eye. “Stop it. I wanted to go. And like you said, I’ll be fine.”

  He closed his eyes, and she ran her hand down the side of his cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “I’m alright,” she said. “I promise. Just….” She broke off as a yawn stole over her. “A little tired.”

  His eyes opened, and he grinned ruefully at her. He reached up to brush her sweat-matted hair from her fevered forehead. “Sleep,” he whispered, tucking one of his han
ds into hers. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

  She nodded, letting her eyes close, feeling safer now that he was near. The whispered conversation seemed almost unreal in that quiet space, floating fluidly into the darkness.

  For some reason, the same wave of familiarity flashed through her again, and she could have sworn that they’d been here before, in this same position.

  But before she could think about that, she let her exhaustion claim her, and sank back into sleep.

  Callie didn’t open her eyes again for hours. When she did, the first thing she saw was Emeric, still in the same position he’d been in last night, asleep in Shay’s chair. The sunlight bathed him in pink lighting, and she was amused to see that his face had lost some of the strict ferocity that it usually bore now that he was unconscious.

  She felt a particular warmth against her palm, and looked down to find that Alex’s hand was still intertwined with hers. He was sleeping, too, his head resting on Callie’s stomach, his face turned in the direction of her own, as though he had fallen asleep looking at her. She lifted her free hand and ran her fingers through his sand-colored hair. It felt as though it had been heated by the sun. She was beginning to suspect that his entire body was just as warm.

  At that moment, she felt oddly protective over him. She enjoyed slowly combing his hair back, feeling the cotton texture against her skin. As she did so, he stirred, shifting slightly where he was without really moving.

  He opened his eyes, his gaze instantly riveted to her. She smiled down at him. “Hey,” she whispered, noting the way his expression bespoke his momentary confusion. But then his head snapped up, and he looked down at her leg.

  “Shay,” he called out, his word ringing through the silent house like a shot.

  “Shh,” Callie said, afraid he’d wake Emeric.

  It was too late, though. Emeric opened his eyes at once, and was instantly alert. Callie sighed in defeat, leaning her head back against the couch. Shay walked into the room, obviously having been awake for hours, and placed a hand on her hip. “You bellowed?” she asked.

  “Have you looked at her leg this morning?” Alex asked, his words accusing.

  “I was just about to,” she replied. “I was waiting for someone to stop treating my patient like a pillow.” With a cocked eyebrow, Shay turned on her heel and walked back into her bedroom. Callie thought she heard the tiny doctor mumbling something about being treated as a servant in her own house.

  Emeric sat forward in his chair. “Callista, how are you?” he asked, clearing his throat against the gravel in his voice.

  “Fine,” Callie said, looking pointedly at Alex. “Really.”

  “Good,” Emeric said. Alex met her scowl unabashedly. “Then we might discuss some matters of business. As far as our outing yesterday—“

  Callie didn’t let him finish. “I did it, Emeric,” she interrupted. “Well, to one of them. I got into her head, and saw a memory.”

  Emeric’s eyebrows rose in obvious admiration. “Of what, might I ask?”

  Callie felt her face heat, and wished she hadn’t said that last part. “Of her…with a man,” Callie mumbled.

  She saw Alex try to cover a grin, and the fever in her cheeks worsened.

  Emeric cleared his throat again, due now to his obvious discomfort. “Ah,” he said in understanding.

  “So what does that mean?” she asked. “What happens now?”

  “It means that you will be as instrumental in the upcoming battles as we had hoped,” Emeric said. “For a moment yesterday, when I realized that your ability to Perceive might be limited to Guardians, I had been afraid that we might have no use for you after all.”

  “So then I can—“ Callie said, but her words were soon cut short.

  “You ass!”

  Callie turned quickly towards the window, and saw nothing but the leaves that had always been there. But then, in a flurry of motion, Serena broke through them and dived into the cottage, on her face an expression of such harsh rage that Callie felt her blood freeze.

  “Serena, how nice of you to join us,” Emeric said, his voice heavily laden with sarcasm. Serena didn’t spare him a glance. She pointed a finger towards Alex, practically trembling in fury.

  “You son of a bitch,” she spat. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

  Alex was already standing in front of Callie, blocking her view so that she couldn’t see Serena anymore. Callie wriggled upright, trying to move her body just enough to see past Alex. But then the open cut on her leg snagged on the couch fabric, and the tearing sensation made her hiss with the pain. Alex turned quickly and glared at her, the motion a warning for her not to move. Callie sunk back down onto the couch.

  “Serena, I am tired of your antics,” Emeric drawled. “If you have something to say, please, by all means, share with us.”

  Callie ducked her chin, able to catch a glimpse of Serena’s expression under Alex’s arm. Her face was red, her teeth clenched. She looked ready to explode.

  “She was supposed to die,” Serena said, her voice soft though it seethed with pent anger. The words made little sense, and Callie knew right away that they didn’t carry the impact Serena had anticipated. When no one moved, Serena let a scream rip from her throat, crying, “She was supposed to die!”

  “What are you talking about?” Emeric asked fiercely.

  Serena moved with blinding speed through the tiny room, circling Alex and gesturing towards Callie. Alex took a quick sidestep, guarding her from view once again. “I have spent the better part of the last two days tracking down that girl’s past, Emeric. I went to her home, I searched through endless newspapers and records. The funny thing is, the only real story on her, besides the fact that she won her kindergarten science fair, is about her parents’ car wreck.” Serena crossed her arms. “As it turns out, that accident wasn’t only supposed to kill her parents. She was in the car, too.”

  “What?” Emeric breathed, his eyes gone wide in shock.

  Callie wondered why he seemed so surprised, why Serena had come in acting as though this were news. The fact that she had been in the car that day had never been a secret. Hadn’t Emeric been the one to ask her about the car crash?

  She thought back to the conversation that they’d had that first day, and realized with a start that he’d never actually asked about her involvement. In fact, he had asked several questions about her being injured around that same time. Callie hadn’t understood why; she still didn’t, really. But he had never once asked if she had sustained any injuries from the accident itself.

  She drew a sharp breath, looking at Emeric once again. Was it really possible that he had been unaware? Could he honestly have not known that she was the sole survivor of that day’s events?

  “He saved her, Emeric!” Serena screeched, flinging her glare vindictively upon Alex. “No wonder no one has ever seen the likes of this human before; there has never been so stupid, smug a protector as hers. He saved his charge from death.” Her words were spoken with utter disgust, and as she stared hatefully at Alex, he did nothing to defend himself.

  Emeric said nothing, either, though Callie saw in his face that his brain was running on warp speed to process the information. In the corner, Shay gasped.

  They all turned to her. She didn’t seem to notice the attention. Her eyes were riveted to the floor, flickering back and forth on even course, and she seemed lost in thought. “Of course,” she said. Looking up, meeting Emeric’s eyes, she said, “Of course. She is only half evolved, Emeric.”

  Emeric remained silent, obviously unable to understand what Shay meant.

  Rattling rapidly onward, Shay continued, “A few decades ago, I did a study on the evolution of Guardians, remember? When they were in their primitive stages, not yet fully evolved but no longer completely human, they healed much more quickly and yet were not immortal. I think it has something to do with the germs of their undeveloped wings secreting the necessary hormones….And, well, it isn’t imposs
ible that the more alike our minds become, the less able we are to Perceive upon each other. Callie is still human enough that she cannot Perceive upon humans, correct? And yet she is dissimilar enough from our kind that she has the ability to Perceive upon us. With that talent, and her accelerated recovery rate, it is possible that she simply stopped evolving after the accident. Perhaps the psychological stress of having been in so traumatic an experience has stunted her somehow. She has several markers of a Guardian, and yet is not one of us.” Shay seemed relieved then, as though she had solved some impossible equation that had been plaguing her.

  Serena shook her head. “Whatever,” she said. “The point is, I was right. She isn’t one of us, Emeric.”

  Callie couldn’t see Alex’s face. His back was turned towards her as he stood between Serena and her. But she could see from where she sat that his fists were tightened, his forearms bulging with tendons. He said nothing to contradict Serena’s words. And that reminded Callie of something he had said that day at the pond: Not even Emeric knows. But that wasn’t the same as saying that no one knew. Callie realized that this theory, all of the harsh accusations and discoveries being spoken now, were nothing new to him.

  He’d known all along.

  But Emeric’s reaction was perhaps the most surprising of all. His mouth twisted into a sneer, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Disobedient child,” he said resentfully. “What have you done?” Only he wasn’t addressing Alex. His glare was rapt upon Serena.

  Serena’s expression changed completely. The anger disappeared from her porcelain face, the blood draining from behind her skin. “What?” she asked, fear present where fury had been.

  “I told you not to interfere!” he roared. Callie withdrew into the couch, hugging herself. The sight of Emeric at his most uninhibited was truly terrifying. He didn’t smash glass or pummel the nearest piece of furniture as lesser men did to express themselves; rather, he stood in one place, murder in his eyes, exuding all of the authority and power that he held. One got the impression that he could do anything, that no one and nothing was precious. He was a man possessed.

 

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