The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series)

by Alexandra Weiss

  The dog turned to face her, and crouched down in a stance which Callie knew preceded his pounce. She flipped over onto her belly and, so quickly that she was a tangle of limbs and leaves, began to run as fast as she could in whatever direction she happened to be facing.

  She could hear its footprints tearing against the ground as the dog followed her, chasing after her with a sprint much faster than her own. She weaved between tree trunks and leapt over errant roots, running out of breath as her heart beat in her throat. She was barely able to think, knowing only that it was gaining on her with each footfall. With a quick glance thrown over her shoulder, Callie saw that it was right on her heels, snatching at her with its stained, yellow teeth as her heels neared its mouth.

  She flung her gaze forwards again, desperate to go faster but feeling her energy draining from her. Of all the times she could have died this week—she couldn’t bring herself to believe that this could actually be it for her. She had thought she was done for too many times; maybe the shock of death was wearing off, but despite her fear, she didn’t really believe she was going to die, even as she felt the dagger-like teeth of the beast sink into her calf, even as she fell onto her elbows and heard herself screaming at the pain.

  Even as, when the agony began to gnaw at her sanity, an angel lifted her from the earth, and carried her to the heavens.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Building Bridges

  “Let go of me!” Callie cried, pushing against the arm that Alex had securely fastened around her waist. When that didn’t work, she began beating her fists against it, willfully unaware of the fact that if he did actually let go of her, she would fall to her death dozens of yards below.

  He didn’t say anything, and Callie couldn’t see his face as he was holding her parallel to his body so that she was facing away from him.

  When they arrived at Shay’s house not seconds later, Callie delivered a swift elbow to his gut and leapt from his arms, jumping onto solid ground and whipping around to face him. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “You don’t have to save me anymore. I don’t want your help.”

  “Sure, next time I’ll leave you to be devoured by the wild animal,” he said sarcastically, gesturing angrily with one arm.

  “What do you care?” she asked. “You’re off the clock, remember?”

  “Christ, Callie, don’t you get it?” he asked harshly, his voice hollow. But the anger was still there in his face as he said, “I have nothing left to give you. I can’t be that guy for you.”

  “I’ve never asked you to be anything,” she said, no longer yelling. She heard the heartache in his words, saw the frustration in his posture.

  “Yes,” he said solemnly, “you have. You’ve done it every day that I’ve known you, without even trying.”

  “Get out, Alex,” she said weakly, feeling more defeated than she’d known possible. She felt her fury giving way to exhaustion. In that hazy blend, all that she could recognize of her emotions was disappointment. She didn’t know what he meant. She wasn’t ready to forgive him yet, or to talk it out. She just wanted him to leave.

  He pinned her with his brown eyes, gone so dark that they were nearly black, some indescribable emotion showing through. She barely understood it; all that she could discern there was a trace of desperation. He seemed bursting, as though he needed to say something.

  But when he saw that she was exhausted, he closed his eyes for the briefest fraction of a second, and nodded. He turned his back, rife with unspoken words, and left silently. Callie thought that she would feel relieved when she saw him fly away.

  All she felt was empty.

  She went to sleep that night thinking about that time fifty years ago, when he had been in love with someone else. Despite the fight she’d had with him today, of everything she had learned in the past twenty four hours, that was what bothered her the most. She cursed herself for being pathetic. Regardless, all that she could think about was that he should have told her about Adeline. Maybe, had she known, she would have been more wary of the way he made her feel. Even now, she couldn’t be angry with him. Not really. She was just heartbroken that he hadn’t told her, that she had played the fool by allowing herself to confide in him when he’d kept such an enormous secret to himself. He should have told her about the other woman before she’d started to feel…whatever this was.

  Because whatever it was, she felt it beginning to consume her. And as she fell asleep that night, the last thought to lay claim to her fevered mind was that if her physical wounds could heal so quickly, it was a gross injustice that heartbreak like this would linger.

  The sharp, repetitive sound of a hammer was what woke Callie the next morning. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, and frowned. There was something outside the window that hadn’t been there the night before. She sat up, trying to make sense of it. It looked like…a rope.

  She stood up and walked out to the back deck. She was astounded to see that a construction of parallel ropes, interrupted by sections of adjacent ropes connecting them, hung from the balcony and dwindled downwards until it disappeared in the trees. It looked like a bridge.

  Callie turned her head and saw two more similar bridges hanging from the deck. One led outwards, remaining at a level height. The other curved upwards on a diagonal, almost touching the tops of the trees before it disappeared.

  A sound caught Callie’s attention, and she turned around. She saw Alex, crouching on the roof, looking down at her. His eyes were gentle, baring none of the anger from yesterday. He looked at her patiently, watching her take in the scene.

  “What is all this?” she asked, trying to ignore the way that her heart began to race.

  In one fluid movement, Alex sprung from the roof and landed softly on the deck. Callie watched the play of muscles in his stomach as he moved. “We can’t have you killing yourself every time you want to go somewhere,” he said.

  Callie looked back out at the bridges. “Where do they go?” she asked.

  He took a step closer to her, looking out over the forest as he stood next to her. She smelled his scent then, like the ocean, and closed her eyes as she felt an old wave of emotion rolled over her. Oh, boy, she thought, forcing herself to open her eyes again. This can’t be good.

  He bent down so that his eyes were level with hers, his face nearing hers with the motion. He pointed out at the first one, the one which sunk to the forest floor. “That one goes down to the beach,” he said, his voice low and gentle. She felt her bones melt at the gravelly timbre of his words. He swung his arm to the right a little, pointing to the one that tilted upwards, and went on, “That one goes to Emeric’s house.” She took an instinctive step sideways, closer to him, as he shifted his arm once more to point to the final bridge. “And that one goes to my house.” He turned his head to look at her once more, and said with a wry smile, “I figured that the next time you visit me, you shouldn’t have to scale a tree.”

  She felt a flush of heat rush through her, but kept her mouth closed.

  “But Callie, if you go to the forest floor, please bring someone with you,” he said. “Or at least let me know that you’re going.”

  “Why?” she asked, refusing to let herself need to be near him, or to let that need obliterate yesterday’s experience. “So that you can keep an eye on me like you did yesterday, ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble?”

  She saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. “Callie, just because we can’t have that kind of relationship…that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you. Or that I won’t protect you when you’re in trouble. Despite what was said, you are more to me than the job.”

  Callie looked down at her feet, her heart breaking a little at the words. “What you said yesterday,” she began. “About not having anything left. It’s because of her, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t want to talk about her,” he said, his words baring such resolve that she guessed he’d expected her to ask such a question.

  She met h
is gaze, feeling little and inconsequential in the scheme of it all. He must have seen that, because his eyes softened, and he rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “Yesterday, I was caught off guard when you brought up Adeline. I haven’t spoken about that part of my past in a long time, mostly because of how badly it ended. After she left….” He floundered for a moment, and then shook his head.

  Callie was afraid to ask, but she said, “You still love her, don’t you?”

  “No,” he said, meeting her eyes steadily. “But suffice it to say that I don’t let people get as close as I used to. You never know who will turn into an enemy.”

  Callie took a moment to process that, feeling as though he meant something more than his words let on. The gravity of his tone began to sink in, and her eyes widened. “Me?” she asked. “You think I’ll turn into one of them? Is that why Emeric has you watching me so closely, because he thinks I’ll turn into a Siren instead of a Guardian?”

  Alex didn’t reply immediately. He chose his words carefully when he said, “You have astounded us in every way. We can’t neglect the possibility—“

  “Okay, listen,” Callie interrupted. “I don’t know why I have this mind trick, but I don’t think I’m going to be sprouting wings any time soon.”

  Alex smirked. Callie couldn’t help but to return the smile. His face was so inviting in the early light. The forest around them was quiet. For a moment, she felt that they were the only two in it.

  Cautiously, she asked, “So, it’s really over? With Adeline, I mean.”

  “It has been over for a long while,” he replied, and Callie saw earnestness in his expression.

  She nodded, light with the feeling of relief. “Okay,” she said. And then, feeling the need to distance herself from him before he could renew any of the emotions she’d experienced yesterday, she turned her back. She wanted to savor this sensation of lightness, of peacefulness, and so she did the first thing she could think of. She grabbed the ladder which led to the ground.

  When she turned to brace herself, settling her right foot onto the first rung, she found that he was still watching her. She grinned at him, and said in jest, “If I say that I want you to get lost, I’m not going to be in danger of you kissing me again, am I?”

  He rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile at play on his lips. “Where are you going?” he asked.

  She tugged on the rope to make sure it was steady. But she immediately felt foolish. Of course it was safe. Alex wouldn’t have let her anywhere near it if it weren’t. “I think I’m going to do a little exploring,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear the half-truth in the words. He wouldn’t like to know the real answer. “Hey,” she said, a thought occurring to her. “While I’m down there, I won’t run into any other humans, will I? I mean, how come no one ever comes out this way?”

  Leaning against the doorframe, he replied, “Occasionally, they do. But it’s rare. These parts of forest are so out of the way of any human society, most people don’t venture out.”

  “What happens if they do?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “We will sense them before they sense us. And when we do, we subtly convince them to turn around.”

  “You get in their heads, you mean,” Callie said, smirking.

  “We remind them of the dangers of the forest. Which are plentiful, by the way,” he replied, stepping forwards as if to go with her.

  “I’ll be fine,” she protested, waving him backwards. He wavered, seeming unsure. “Alex, honestly, you aren’t going to spy on me today, okay? I’ll be back in an hour or so. Until then…I don’t know, go see if there’s a game on.”

  She bit her lip to keep from laughing. The thought of any of these winged beings watching a basketball game, eating hotdogs and drinking beer, tickled her. She had yet to spot a single television in any of their houses. Alex just nodded his head though, agreeing to let her have some time alone, and watched warily as she slowly descended the ladder.

  Callie sighed in relief when she was on the ground. The ladder had been easy to control; the rungs were so close together that she had no trouble at all maneuvering as she climbed down. The only trick was keeping her balance. She saw now, as she stood on the pale sand of the beach, that the rope was connected to solid ground in only two places: Shay’s porch, and a wide, flat boulder on the sand. Occasionally, it was secured between tree branches, so that the ropes remained steadier. Every time she shifted her weight, though, the bridge tilted a little, shaking beneath her. It hadn’t been difficult, really; but she was glad to be done with the task.

  She brushed her palms against each other and looked at the abandoned shoreline. It stretched for miles in either direction. Now that the beach was empty, she saw how beautiful and expansive it truly was. Giant stone boulders dotted this end of the beach, closest to the forest. Further out, the sand blended into the water with patches of colorful pebbles. The scene reminded Callie of the days her family had spent in the Florida Keys a few summers before the accident. They had gone hunting for sea glass most every morning. Callie had been amazed when her father had told her that the smooth, jade glass was actually the remnants of broken bottles whose edges had been filed down by the ocean.

  She felt warmed by the sun and the memory, and proceeded to jump down from the boulder, onto the fine sand below. She walked towards the forest, knowing that Alex wouldn’t like what she was going to do. But she also knew that if the purple eyes had been watching her yesterday, they probably hadn’t stopped watching her. And so, armed with recently acquired knowledge, she began to explore the floor of the forest, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Adeline found her.

  In the quiet space of that time alone, Callie was reminded of all the afternoons she had spent in the empty house while Maggie was at work. Maggie’s face brushed through her mind in a whisper, the outline blurred by separation. She felt a twinge of guilt as she pictured Maggie at home alone, these past nights no doubt spent in drunken oblivion. And now Callie wasn’t at home to make sure that she was in bed in the mornings, or that she was breathing evenly as she slept. The thought made her yearn for her home again. But, surprisingly, the feeling was coupled with another, more foreign tug at her heart. She realized that a part of her didn’t want to leave. At least, not right away. As she glanced up at the canopy, settled so high above her now, she thought about how dear this place had become to her. These people, so alien to the rest of the world, almost magical in their rarity, had become important to her. She didn’t know if she would call them friends. Most of them still wanted to drop her in the middle of the ocean. But she had seen their vulnerability. She knew that they felt the same things that she felt: loneliness, fear, love. Being in this place was somewhat like being in a terrifying, exhilarating dream, and she had the chance to help keep it alive. She couldn’t recall when she had become so accepting of the mystical; but there lived a certain enchantment in this forest. And the urge to stay was growing stronger.

  Which, of course, made the guilt fresher.

  She stuck close to the outer rim of the forest this time. If she went in too deeply, she knew she would get lost again, and so she stayed in the sunny patches of tree trunks and weeds. The fog wasn’t present in these outskirts. Callie saw a colorful bird dive in front of her, and then dip back up towards the canopy once more. And all of the animals that she saw here were small, most no bigger than the squirrels back home. It was a happy picture, really.

  At least, it was happy until the leaves in front of Callie began to sway and shake, something Callie knew to be the warning of an arrival.

  Almost as though she were surreal, Adeline broke through the low-hanging branches, her glorious silver wings stretched wide in unabashed power, beating against the air as she sank to the ground. Callie felt her breath hitch.

  The violet eyes which had been so caring and playfully quick-witted in Serena’s memory regarded Callie with cool intelligence. Her fiery red hair hung in wild curls around her shoulders, ruffled by the w
ind. She approached Callie leisurely, an appraising look in her eye.

  Adeline glanced towards the sky. “So,” she began, her voice familiar though plagued now by a bitter cruelty. “He finally left you alone, did he?”

  Callie saw that Adeline had remained unchanged in the physical sense. Except for the silver wings, she was exactly the same. But the years had lent a certain harshness to her appearance, born of hatred and etched into her features. She was harder now, less willing to see the world as she had once known it.

  “Why are you here?” Callie asked, hoping that Adeline didn’t hear her words falter in her fear.

  Adeline grinned slightly, the corners of her red lips curving up. She lifted an eyebrow and replied, “I could ask you the same question. I could also ask what you were doing intruding on our island yesterday, or why Alexander seems to take such acute interest in you.” Her purple eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward. “You wouldn’t be willing to answer any of those questions, would you?”

  “That’s why you’re here?” Callie asked, slightly amazed. “You’re checking up on a human? I thought you were such powerful people.” She couldn’t resist letting a mocking edge slip into her voice. “What could I possibly mean to you?”

  Adeline’s smile froze in place. “We tend to take spies seriously,” she replied coldly. “And we don’t easily lose our edge by ignoring threats.”

  Callie hesitated, and then tried to concentrate on Adeline’s mind. She wondered what the real reason was for Adeline’s presence in the forest, and so she projected herself into the memory that Adeline was focused on.

  She was thrust into the scene with sudden force, having thrown herself into the task with more vigor than she usually did. She landed roughly at the top of a waterfall, braced on her hands and knees, her fingertips at the edge of the stone plateau. Water rushed forward, splitting around her and falling in dramatic white clouds below her.

  Gasping at how closely she had landed to the edge of the falls, Callie stood up and jumped backwards, thankful that the wide stream at the top of the waterfall was shallow and laden with stones. She nearly walked through Adeline, who was standing immediately behind her.