Reluctant Guardian

by Elisha Bugg

  What have I done?

  Frozen to the spot, her head spun, forcing her to hold her stomach and calm the nausea building. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she struggled to catch her breath.

  She didn't like this; she never had.

  “Are you alright, Miss?”

  She couldn't respond. Just leaned back against the cool wall, her throat closing up as she gasped for air.

  “It's alright, James,” a familiar voice called, breaking through some of the panic consuming her.

  “I'll take her from here.”

  Keri.

  Anya closed her eyes, relieved she was no longer alone with a stranger. Listening as the man muttered something obscene under his breath before he stomped away.

  “Don't worry, Anya,” Keri whispered, placing a firm hand on her shoulder, and squeezing gently.

  “Let me show you around.”

  Breathing deeply, and counting backwards, Anya's heart beat slowed to a less erratic pace. Her vision cleared to reveal Keri's smiling face.

  She was right. There was nothing to worry about. All they had to do was unlock the door and she'd be free. She wasn't trapped.

  “Thanks.”

  Keri took Anya's hand, pulling her down the corridor, pointing to various rooms along the way, describing what was inside each one. A whole other house locked away from just anybody to see. But why?

  Anya was rapidly losing interest, her anger simmering just beneath the surface as she wondered why she'd been asked to come, when she spotted another door that looked unusual in its surroundings.

  Except, this one was not wooden or etched; but stone. Strong and heavy. Seeming to glow with runes and inscriptions, reminding her of those decorating the inside of the ring hanging from her neck. Neither of which she knew the meaning of. An unknown feeling deep in her chest urged her toward it.

  “I knew you'd be drawn to that one,” Keri whispered, following her gaze before resting her hand across Anya's back, urging her further down the hall.

  “We'll explain later.”

  Anya couldn't help but wonder what was behind that door, especially when Keri refused to tell her. What could it be; and why was it glowing like that?

  “Hello again, Miss Shaw,” Hugh's father greeted from his seat at the head of a large oval table.

  She'd been so consumed in her thoughts about that door that she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings, never noticing that they'd entered a room.

  “This is Hugh's, friend. Be polite gentlemen.”

  The way he spoke the word ‘friend’ made her flinch as several heads turned her way with sneers and smirks. Each of them rising from their seats to stare, causing the hairs on her arms and neck to stand on end.

  One by one they approached, taking her hand and placing a kiss upon the back as they introduced themselves.

  Lost for words, her body trembling at the look on their faces, she forced herself to smile until they'd finished.

  The look on Hugh's father’s face taking pleasure in her discomfort, chilling her to the bone throughout the whole ordeal.

  “Come with me,” Hugh groaned as he took her hand none too gently, dragging her along behind him.

  Anya wanted to argue and demand he release her, but more than that, she wanted to get away from the stares of those other men, and more importantly, Hugh's father, Richard.

  There was something in his menacing grin that terrified her. His cold stare made her skin crawl as his lifeless eyes followed her every move.

  She shuddered and wrapped her free arm around her middle, just waiting for the right time to break away from Hugh's hold.

  “What are you doing here, Anya?” he growled, glaring over his shoulder.

  “K-Keri insisted I come.”

  She hadn't wanted to. She'd even considered making up an excuse to text Keri with, but she'd come up blank.

  Only, her fears that it was really Hugh that wanted to see her turned out to be false.

  So why was she here?

  “You should have just stayed away.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Let go of me,” Anya finally snapped, snatching her hand from Hugh's when they were far enough from that room full of people.

  Why did I even come? she asked herself, eyes roaming around the cold, dull hallways.

  What did Keri want with her?

  Without a word, she'd abandoned her in that room full of unfamiliar faces. She'd told her not to worry, but how was she supposed to do that when all she could see was Richard's leering grin as he watched her, the smug look of his face as he introduced her to all those men. And Hugh; he'd looked angry to see her, even telling her she should've stayed away.

  “I’m going home. I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

  “It's too late now,” Hugh's defeated voice sighed as he turned toward her, avoiding eye contact and biting his already stubby nails.

  Anya opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that when he shoved a book in her arms.

  Except, it wasn’t just an ordinary book, but more of a journal, filled with loose handwriting and various sketches, all of which were amazing.

  “Keep going.”

  “But this is just a story book?”

  The pages were filled with frightful images of monsters and creatures from stories and movies. All things that didn't exist.

  Vampire. Witch. Siren. Demon. Muse…. The list went on.

  Why show her this?

  Suddenly her hand stopped moving. The bold letters reading ‘Shifter’ seeming to jump from the page. The detailed eyes staring back at her.

  Anya frowned, studying the drawing of what appeared to be nothing more than a bear. Except for those eyes. Shaded in such a way, they seemed to glow.

  She leaned closer, swallowing the lump in her throat, reading some of the text that surrounded the drawing;

  'Shifters are extraordinary creatures with the ability to change their form from human to animal; and back again.

  One of the hardest of the Lore to identify, seeming no different from their animal or human counterpart.

  Their biggest indicator is their eyes, glowing wildly when emotions are high.

  Anger a shifter and they will expose themselves.'

  Anya leaned in close, tracing a finger across the image as she remembered the wolf from her dream. It had seemed more human than animal, but that was just a dream.

  She continued to stare down at the picture, haunted by the familiarity of those glowing eyes.

  ‘Shifters have lightning reflexes making them difficult to keep up with, and even harder to catch; but be careful, they're also extremely strong.

  It's believed that different species of shifter have different strengths and weaknesses, making it difficult to pinpoint the best method to kill.

  Various poisons seem effective, as does piercing their heart with silver.’

  “Why show me this?” she whispered, lifting her eyes to Hugh, expecting to see him smiling or curious why she'd been quiet for so long, but he wasn't even looking her way.

  “This is part of what Keri and Richard wanted me to show you,” he paused, glancing briefly over his shoulder toward the door, before turning to her, still avoiding eye contact. “The rest is downstairs.”

  “You expect me to follow you when that’s all you’re going to tell me?”

  Hugh sighed, leaning his back against the wall as he stared up at the ceiling, his body tense as he clenched his teeth shut.

  “There is a man I’d like you to meet. A man from the book I just showed you.”

  Before Anya had chance to ask any more questions, Hugh grabbed firmly around her wrist, dragging her through the halls. Her arm ached from the pressure of his hold.

  She knew he didn't want her here, he'd told her so himself, but why was he being so rough?

  “Hugh, you're hurting me.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered, loosening his grip slightly, allowing the circulation to return to her fingers.

 
“I don't like going down there.”

  He sighed, releasing her wrist to grab hold of her hand instead. His hand was cold and clammy against hers, sending a chill through her entire body. Heart pounding when she saw where they were headed.

  The glowing of the door intensified with each step they made toward it.

  She gripped tightly on her necklace, pulling the ring that hung from it side to side.

  “They're just runes on the door,” Hugh explained, smiling over his shoulder to her, except it didn't reach his eyes. That normal twinkle and charm nowhere to be seen.

  “They won't hurt you though, at least…”

  His words trailed off, too quiet to hear. Not that she was paying much attention to him. Not when the glow of the door seemed to be moving in a slow circle around it as Hugh pulled out a massive key from his pocket.

  Her heart froze. The door slowly crept open with a loud groan, revealing a stone stairwell leading into darkness.

  Anya bit down on her lip, still gripping tightly onto her chain whilst Hugh struggled to light a wooden torch beside her, cursing as he burnt through several matches.

  A gust of wind blew through the open doorway, taking her breath away as it whipped her hair across her face.

  What was that noise?

  It sounded like a growl, but that wasn't possible. It had to be the wind groaning through the tight stairwell.

  With the torch finally lit, Hugh took her hand once more, pulling her over the threshold despite her attempts to dig her heels in.

  A tingling sensation coursed through her body. Her skin felt like it was on fire, burning deep through the layers of tissue.

  Her throat closed, making it impossible to swallow.

  Steadying herself on the wall, her hand landed in something thick and sticky, but she didn't look. She didn't dare; fearful what it could be.

  “Keri mentioned your fear of small, dark spaces, but I never thought it was this bad,” Hugh said with a frown, rummaging through his pockets.

  “Here. It'll help if you know you can leave whenever you want.”

  Hugh passed her the huge key he'd used to unlock the door, mistaking her reaction for her phobia.

  She couldn't tell him that she didn't think that was the problem. That this was something she didn't understand.

  The only time she'd felt anything vaguely similar was just before she'd fainted at the party.

  Except, the key in her hand did seem to help, allowing her to cling to reality rather than drifting into darkness.

  Controlling her breathing, Anya snatched her hand away again, ready to turn away and escape from this horrid place, when she heard her name whispered from below.

  Part of her still wanted to leave, not wishing to find out what horrors awaited her below, but something about that voice sounded familiar, calling her closer. Every logical part of her body rebelled, demanding she turn away and run, but her heart got the better of her, needing to know who could be down there. If it was someone she knew, she had to help them.

  Steeling her nerves, Anya took a step forward, descending deeper into the darkness. The smell of rotten flesh and blood assaulted her nose, turning her stomach. She plastered a hand over her mouth to stop herself spilling the contents of her stomach over the floor.

  The odour grew stronger and stronger the further they went, forcing her to stop every few steps to catch her breath.

  What on earth is down here?

  Finally they reached the bottom, but she hesitated to take the last step, dreading what she could be standing in.

  Slowly, she released her nose, taking in some much-needed oxygen, no longer caring about the stench.

  To her surprise, the smell wasn't so strong.

  The odour must have drifted out the small open window, if you could call it that; it was really more of a slit in the wall. Obscured by thick metal bars that surrounded the middle circle of the room. Some broken and jagged. Others still intact, flickering in the light of the torch as they stepped closer.

  A prison, she gasped, placing a hand back across her mouth before she could let out another noise.

  Anya took another step toward that sliver of freedom, when she was stopped by two glowing green eyes shining brightly in the darkness.

  She was mesmerized, walking closer and closer to the bars, until Hugh gripped her shoulder, pulling her back.

  “Be careful.”

  That's when she heard a deep, throaty growl much like the wolf in her dream. Except this was louder, echoing around the circular room.

  She watched, frozen in awe as those small orbs of light drew closer, until she saw a man’s face appear.

  He was almost beautiful beneath all that grime and dirt covering his angular face, his green eyes shining like a gem through the mats of unruly hair restricting her view.

  There was no doubt this man had broken many hearts with his handsome looks before he was locked away here, left to starve. His face now gaunt, causing his high cheekbones to stand out sharp.

  The man moved closer still, knitting his eyebrows between his eyes as he watched her with the same amount of curiosity as she watched him.

  Instead of moving away from the man like she knew she should, Anya found herself creeping forward, drawn to him by the sorrow in his eyes.

  Did she know this man? There was something vaguely familiar about the way he looked at her.

  How long had he been down here, trapped like some kind of beast?

  Everything about him showed the tolls of being kept a prisoner for years. All except his eyes. Still young and vibrant, full of fight and determination.

  He cocked his head to the side and sniffed at the air, frozen as he watched her, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

  She had to look away from that mournful expression, focusing instead on his hands, shackled with shiny manacles that restricted his movements. Yet he strained against them, reaching a hand toward her.

  She flinched instinctively, immediately regretting it when he dropped his hand with a whimper, turning away from her.

  After several deep breaths Anya stepped toward him once more. He turned straight away, fear and pain shining in those stunning emerald green eyes that doubled in size.

  He was afraid.

  Shouldn't she be the one scared of him; so why wasn't she?

  Even though she trembled inside, her heart insisted she trust him; that there was a connection between them.

  As she continued to watch him pace inside his cell, her vision blurred and her hands shook by her sides. She bit down on her quivering lip to stop the sob escaping her throat as she saw a tear roll down his cheek.

  Hugh moved between her and the bars, making the man spin toward him with a growl. The sound loud and predatory, causing her to flinch and hold herself close.

  “He's the reason you're here, Anya,” Hugh muttered, wrapping his fingers around the bars, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. “The man Richard wanted me to show you.”

  With a sigh, he kicked what looked like a chocolate bar toward the man.

  Anya watched him glance down at the offered food, scrunching his nose up before he turned away. Not that she could blame him. She doubted she'd accept the pathetic offering either; not from someone keeping her prisoner.

  But why was he here?

  She saw nothing dangerous about this man.

  Yes he was large. Muscles still visible on his lean frame. Scars and welts patterned his skin showing his struggle. But his eyes held nothing but gentleness and warmth.

  “Why does Richard have this man locked away like an animal?” Anya fumed, hands clenched into fists by her sides.

  This wasn’t normal.

  “He’s dangerous. Richard imprisoned him to keep others safe.”

  “If that's true, and I doubt it, he should be in prison, not locked in your basement,” Anya snapped, patting down her pockets, searching for her phone to call someone, anyone.

  “You don’t understand,” Hugh pleaded, snatching
the phone from her hands before he reached a hand toward her face.

  Anya stepped back quickly at the same time the man behind let out a deep growl, lunging at the bars, making her yelp and cling to Hugh's sleeve before she'd realised what she'd done.

  “If you just stay here a minute, I will get Richard to explain, he’s much better at this than me.”

  Before she had chance to say a word, Hugh had dashed up the stairs, leaving her alone with the man she wasn't sure whether she should fear, or not.

  The sound of the door slamming at the top of the stairs made her flinch and hold herself tight.

  Her heart raced as she searched the room, the darkness swallowing her whole as the walls seemed to move toward her.

  Her head spun violently as breathing became erratic. Her vision blurred as panic consumed her.

  No. Not now.

  “Do I scare you?” the man asked his hoarse voice strained from lack of use.

  Anya shook her head, unable to speak as her throat constricted.

  “Come closer, child. I will not harm you.”

  Anya turned to him then. Those words spoken reminding her of Edwin. Perhaps that was how she recognised him. A friend of Edwin’s who had come to the house whilst she was growing up.

  She took a tentative step toward him, as he did the same on the other side of the bars.

  He reached his hand through and waited for her to take it.

  Hesitating, she held her hands close to her chest, before squeezing her eyes shut and brushing her fingers over his palm.

  There wasn't time to second guess her actions; he pulled her sharply into the bars, catching her head before it met with metal. His large hand holding her head against his solid chest. The coolness of his skin stinging her cheek.

  “Listen to my heart, nothing else. It will anchor you and bring rhythm back to your breathing.”

  A little nervous, but calmed by his soothing words and touch, Anya closed her eyes and counted with the steady beat of his heart.

  She leaned in further, pressing her face against him. Embracing the touch he offered her as he petted her hair.

  His actions were comforting, reminding her of a distant memory she could barely grasp.

  “T-thank you,” she whispered, opening her eyes and taking a step back. A little more relaxed in her surroundings.