The Compass

by Cindy Charity

  *****

  Thirty minutes, and a full bottle each of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash later, Ali stood in her living room. Besides cleansing her of God knew what, the shower had given her time to think. Something happened last night, something huge. Two men—men she had never met—because, she would have remembered that meeting, had come after her. One claimed to want to help her, and one wanted to take her somewhere. Her mind tried to make sense of it. The good guy, Finn, had indicated that she was in danger, and then the other guy had shown up all menacing wanting to deliver her to someone else.

  A name flashed in her memory, Mikel. Whoever he was, Ali was sure she didn’t want to meet him. Tunnelling her fingers though her hair, Ali bit her lip as she tried to make sense of what had happened last night. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sexy accent of last night’s delusion.

  “Ali.”

  A dizzying array of emotions spun through her entire system. Every hair on her body stood on end, and she felt every single one. It was like moving through mud as she turned. When she spied Finn, her eyes widened. Covering her mouth, she shook her head and stumbled backwards. Tears welled up in her eyes, her heart thundered in her ears. The scream built up in her throat but she couldn’t let it out. Her back hit the wall. Without taking her eyes off of him, she slid to the floor.

  Everything moved in, crowding her, making it hard to breathe. Yet, there was no fear. She knew he wasn’t here to hurt her—but how did she know that? Seeing him again, in the daylight, jarred her system. He made the room seem smaller than what it was. He looked—normal, not like the warrior from last night. His outfit was just as casual and his stance was relaxed, but his eyes—he had her trapped in them. She closed hers and started counting, knowing full well that he would still be there when she opened them. No matter how high a number she got to.

  Contrary to what she was feeling, her gut was telling her that it was okay, that he was supposed to be here. She had based her entire business on her gut, and it had never let her down. She wanted to trust it now—she honestly did, but how could she when this man—Finn, made no sense to her? For the first time, Ali fought against her instincts. She needed more information. She closed herself off from the whispered suggestions that she trust this man.

  Finn balled his hands into fists. It took massive control not to go over to her and gather her up as he had done last night. She looked like a battered fairy. The woman, who had threatened to kick his ass, sat on the floor, defeated. He watched as her body closed in on itself, the posture sliced through him. He took a step forward and said her name again. “Ali.” Her eyes opened and her head shook vigorously, a hand still covered her mouth. He stopped moving. He used his voice instead, wanting to bring her comfort. “I know this is a lot to take in. You’ve seen things no mortal should.”

  She didn’t know where it came from, but Ali found enough strength to push against the wall and stood up. Keeping him in sight; she inched along the wall, feeling as she went, for the opening to her kitchen. His eyes tracked her and she tried hard not to let the intensity of them affect her. She needed a weapon; she didn’t care what it was, as long as her hand found one. Hitting the edge of the doorframe, she reached back and around, thankful for her tiny alcove of a kitchen. Her hand grabbed hold of a handle, when she pulled it out, she suppressed a groan. A broom, she was going to fend off her intruder with a broom.

  “Careful Finn, The lady looks like she knows how to use that with deadly accuracy.”

  Ali’s heart tripped over. Her hands shook as she saw another man, seemingly from the air, saunter up to stand beside Finn. He had a devil may care look to him and—damnit he was just as good looking as Finn. Her eyes went back and forth between them. Okay, now she was scared.

  Finn cursed Cian’s timing. He had hoped to be further along with convincing Ali she wasn’t crazy before the others descended upon them. Seeing her reaction to his cousin’s arrival told him there was no help for that now. Ignoring his cousin, he took another step, and then another, keeping his movement slow.

  Her slight form was clothed in jeans and simple t-shirt. Her hair fell in glorious waves, the sunlight setting the locks on fire, framing her delicate face. Struck by the sight of her, his steps faltered. He watched as she struggled against what was happening. Her eyes showed every emotion, and up until Cian arrived, there had been no fear. He didn’t like that it was there now. Her hold on the broom wavered as her hands began to shake.

  “Put the broom down lass, though his timing needs work, my cousin is harmless.” He watched her eyes widen. Seeing it as a way to get through to her, Finn used it. “Despite all that you saw, I am just a man. I have family.”

  His reference to being normal snapped Ali out of her paralyzed state and had her forgetting her fear. Her throat worked down a swallow, her voice came out like grated glass, “Just a man?” Though they still shook, her hands tightened on the broom handle. “You are more than just a man,” her eyes darted to where Cian stood. “He’s more than just a man.” Her voice gained strength. “That other guy from last night was more than just a man.” The broom came up. She held it as a batter would. “You were supposed to stay in my head, a figment of my imagination. Someone better tell me what the hell is going on.” When Finn opened his mouth to do just that, Ali warned him. “And don’t give me some cockamamie story about how you’re all normal.”

  He bit back the smile that wanted to form. The broken fairy had found her wings once more. “I wouldn’t dream of giving you such a story, lass.” He took another step forward, stopping again when she tensed up. He lifted his hands in surrender. “You need to trust me.” When her eyes narrowed, he knew he’d uttered the wrong thing. It was confirmed when he had to jump back to avoid her deadly broom. Cian’s laughter filled his head, he ignored it. “Lass, I cannot tell you what you wish to know if you bash my head in.”

  Like gasoline poured on a fire, Ali’s temper exploded. “Stay away from me. You tried to kidnap me, my boot broke—because of you, and then you dumped me on my couch. I had to throw out my favorite shirt, and my jeans were ruined.” Her tirade was interrupted when two more men appeared. One was blonde and elegant, and the other one reminded her of a bar room brawler. Her eyes went to Finn. “Just how many cousins do you have?”

  The brawler let out a low whistle. “If she’s a Fragment, I can’t wait to meet the others.”

  Ali let out a squeak, the man was huge. Not that Finn—or the others were tiny, this one just seemed—bigger. He didn't have an accent like Finn’s, he sounded—American. Yet, she knew he wasn't. Damnit, how did she know that? She pressed a hand to the side of her head.

  Thousands of tiny pieces were trying to align themselves, to create a mental image for her, but her brain fought against it. This wasn’t at all like what happened when she took on a case. She felt the familiar gathering of a headache. Her other hand grew sweaty on the broom handle, but she wasn’t going to let it, or her guard, down. Her head swivelled as Mr. Elegant spoke next. It was like being a spectator at a tennis match.

  “Shut up, Drake.” He then smiled at her. “I’m sorry, he’s—unrefined.”

  He sounded French. The accent was faint, but Ali could hear it. His tone and manner reminded her of a renaissance man. The brawler—Drake, shot back, “Un-refined, my ass.” Ali didn’t hear any heat behind his words. The heavy sigh of Mr. Elegant told of his indulgence of his associate.

  “See what I mean? My name is Tristan, and you are, Ali—although your proper name is Alina.”

  She sucked in a quick breath, saw Tristan smile again before he offered an explanation of how he knew that. “My abilities are of the mind, I suggest you start guarding yours.”

  She had to guard her—his abilities were—she couldn’t breathe. She was drawing in air, but for some reason, her brain wasn’t getting it. In her tiny living room stood four huge men, and they were all looking at her. Her gaze zeroed in on Finn. He was staring at her with a mixture of—well, she couldn’t quite p
ut a name to it. If this was another dream, it was a doozy. It was right up there with the one about—the one called, Tristan laughed.

  “Watch those thoughts, Ali.” A glass appeared before her. “Drink, it will help calm you.”

  All color left her face. “Sweet mother of God—what are you?” In the deep recesses of her mind, Ali heard the soft mummer of truth. You know.

  Chapter Ten

  Finn uttered a few expletives. He wanted to bark at Tristan for being so careless, it didn’t matter that it had been done. With some reluctance, he followed Tristan’s lead and gave Ali the simple truth, purposely choosing the shorter version. There was no need to overload her mind with more. They would have time for that. Right now, he had to get her pass this moment. “Ali, we are the warriors of Agrona. We are five in total, and not of this realm. We are able to come here through various portals found throughout your world. As you have already witnessed—we have—unique abilities.” He held back from mentioning magick. He felt Cian tug at his mind. Brushing it aside, he finished the explanation. “We’ve come to find the Fragments, to reunite them. You are the first of five.”

  Ali’s legs went numb. Ignoring the floating glass, no way was she going to drink whatever was in there, her head whipped around to search for the fifth man. She looked back to Finn. He was serious. He believed every word he had just told her, and damnit, she was wavering in her determination to not be swayed.

  Keeping the men in her line of vision, she inched back along the wall towards her portable phone. She grabbed up the receiver with one hand, the broom at the ready in the other. As she brought the phone up to her face, her thumb ready to dial those three important numbers, she told them what she thought of the whole situation. “You’re crazy.” She tilted her head to the side and included the group with a look. “All of you. I should have done this long before now. It’ll probably get me sent to the asylum. My defense will be that I thought I was suffering from a migraine fueled delusion.” A flash of detective Ballen arriving with swinging cuffs almost stopped her—almost. She hit the first number.

  Finn let out a heavy sigh. He knew exactly what she was about to do. He could see conviction in her mind. Turning to his cousin, he shared what he knew. “She’s calling the authorities, taking a chance that a detective Ballen will be the one to come to her aid.”

  Cian nodded. “We can’t have that, can we?” He waved a hand.

  The phone vanished—just, vanished. Ali stared at her empty hand, flipping it over and back. The broom fell to the ground. She moved her fingers, but felt nothing. The phone was truly gone. Sensing movement, her eyes locked with Finn’s. There, she saw remorse as well as a plea for understanding. How could she give him that, when she hadn’t a clue to what was going on? What she had seen was impossible, things that only existed in books and movies. Her eye caught more movement. She reached down and picked up the broom again. She gave a warning. “Do not take another step. How did you know about the detective?”

  Finn held up his hands, ignoring the snickers of laughter from Cian, and company. “Ali, we are not here to harm you. We cannot involve the authorities, too much is at risk. We have a connection.”

  “Bull—try again.” Although, Ali felt a tingle run through her, that gut feeling was back. Pushing it down, she asked him again. “How. Did. You. Know?”

  She had tried to hide it, but Finn saw the flash of awareness in her eyes. He felt her mind touch his lightly. Was she aware of it? Probably not, but it held great significance for what they were trying to accomplish here. Ali maybe fighting, but her mind knew. He had to exploit that. “I found you Ali. You were in pain and your soul was heavy with sorrow. Even now, your mind is reaching out to mine.”

  She closed her eyes at his words refusing to believe it, but her denial was weakening. “No. That’s impossible. It was the medication. It always makes me loopy.”

  “You know I speak the truth, lass.”

  Hearing rustling of clothing, Ali opened her eyes. Tristan came forward to stand beside Finn. To their credit, the other two kept their distance. Though she got the feeling that if they needed to, they would be able to get to her fast. She struggled to keep them all in her line of vision. The contrast between Finn, and Tristan, was startling. She felt her resolve flagging further.

  Tristan moved towards her. “I think—seeing, would best explain our situation.”

  She watched him wave one hand over the other. A goblet appeared. It was different from the other one. It was beautiful. Gold etching stood out against the darkness of its color. Ali couldn’t make out the symbols, but had the feeling that the cup was very old. Tristan came towards her, holding the goblet out in front. She couldn’t explain why, but she was afraid of it—of touching it. She took a step back, the broom once again falling to the floor. Her hands went behind her.

  Tristan kept coming, smiling gently when she ran out of space to escape. Carefully, he reached for her hand. His touch was warm. Without speaking, he wrapped her hand around the globe of the glass, and then reached for the other. When the goblet was secure, he spoke to her, his voice quiet and kind. “Feel the life within, Alina.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, the cup began to vibrate. Ali squeaked and would have dropped it—but the swirling liquid inside of it held her captive. Soon, images appeared, there was no sound. A woman, dressed in a flowing gown of gray, held a sword. Her hair—the color of midnight whipped about her face. She battled an unseen opponent, her purpose clear; she had to destroy her enemy.

  The night sky was alive with flashes of light. Then, the scene changed. The woman was weak. In her hands was a Star, it was so bright, so vibrant. It trembled, as if it knew what was happening. She brought it to her lips, and then it was severed into five pieces. Then she turned, her lips forming words. Though no sound emerged, Ali heard them all the same. It felt as though her soul had just been torn from her. Her hands began to shake.

  As the woman prepared to scatter the pieces, a black shadow raced over the ground, its aim was the woman, and the shards of the Star. It leapt, coating one piece. With the last of her strength, the woman blasted the tar-like substance, eradicating as much as she could. When she could do no more, she cast out the pieces, watching as they were swallowed up by the darkness.

  Then she turned, and spoke directly to Ali. Alina, the darkness will try to defeat you, you will doubt yourself—who you are. Have faith my daughter, the Light is strong in you. Help him find what he has lost—you are our Compass, find your sisters. Ali watched as the light dimmed in the woman’s eyes. Coldness settled in her soul, pain exploded in her head. The goblet fell to the floor shattering. She heard shouts from the men, but she couldn’t answer. The pressure in her head was soon matched with one in her chest. Breathing was a struggle. Voices, there were voices in her head. Her system was bombarded with wave after wave of emotion.

  Through the chaos of it, one voice emerged; it separated itself from the many. It was seductive, whispering promises, cajoling her to come meet her destiny. It played on her desire for peaceful life, showed her how it could be if only she submitted. She wanted that, she wanted to be normal, to live her life on her terms. She didn’t want to continue hiding from the ghosts of her past. No longer able to withstand the onslaught, Ali folded onto the floor.

  Finn rushed towards Ali, ignoring Cian’s and Drake’s shouts to stay back. When he had seen her crumble to the ground, only one thought occupied his mind, he had to get to her. Just as he was close enough to touch her, he was thrown back by a blast. The source of which appeared between him, and Ali. Constantine. Finn growled at him. “Get out of my way. She suffers and I cannot allow it.”

  But Constantine held firm, his massive size providing an effective barrier. With his arms crossed over the expanse of his chest, he met Finn’s glare with one of his own. “You must not touch her. There is darkness within her, it tempts her. We cannot help her. She must find her own way out.”

  Obvious to the commotion outside of her m
ind, Ali was caught in a torrent of bedlam. She struggled to find an escape. It felt like she was being torn in two. The dark, seductive voice became more insistent, demanding that she heed it. As much as the slippery notes of the voice intrigued her, somehow, she knew that it spoke falsely. She moved away from it, putting as much distance as she could.

  A light appeared, bright and warm. Leaning towards it, she heard the woman from her childhood once again. She saw herself walking towards it, desperate to embrace it. The hiss of the other one cursed her, it promised to siphon the life out of her. She ignored it, and continued towards the light.

  Breaking the surface, Ali lay on the floor. When her eyes opened, it was to five concerned faces. Wait, five? Her gaze latched onto the new one. His eyes were—strange, they were silver and were a stark contrast to the inky darkness of his hair. Though he didn’t speak to her, he made her feel defensive. Striving for calmness she didn’t feel, Ali questioned Finn without taking her eyes off of the new comer. “Finn, there are only five of you right?” The collective sigh of relief from such huge men would be comical had she not been on the floor. “Move back, you’re crowding me.” All but Finn obeyed. Ali arched a brow, which he ignored. She let him help her to sit up, and then she pushed his hands away. “I’m fine now, thank you.”

  Jaw clenched, Finn gave her some room. She was pale despite her claims of being fine. It annoyed him that she dismissed his assistance. He shouldn’t feel that way. She was a Fragment, yet, he cared. These were dangerous thoughts. He reached down and brought forth reserved concern. “You gave me—us, a scare lass.” He said, not liking how his voice sounded too emotional, or how he had stumbled his words. Her laugh was a high pitched nervous sound.