What did that mean? Was she finally coming around to his insistence that he wasn’t the bad guy? Did she have feelings for him too?
Nate wasn’t sure whether that was such a good thing after all.
She’d said that he wasn’t like the others, that he’d saved her life. He considered what had made him run to help her, the sudden fear he’d felt when he’d seen her struggling with those Neanderthals. Did that make him different? Had she somehow changed him?
Nate found that he didn’t care. He was glad he’d stepped in – glad he’d helped. He tipped his head back, trying to organise these new emotions that flared up inside of him.
A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts and he got up to open it, banishing the thoughts to the back of his mind to consider later.
“Hello Nathaniel.”
Nate raised an eyebrow at the Principality who stood in the doorway. “Nisroc,” he greeted, warily. “What an unpleasant surprise.”
Roc said nothing, inclining his head in a nod of acknowledgement.
“Won’t you come in?” Nate offered sarcastically, stepping back to allow the man to pass. Roc strolled through, sitting in the wing-backed chair that was offered with a graceful swirl of his coat.
Nate pulled on a fresh shirt and perched on his bed as Roc gazed around with disinterest. Nate said nothing, waiting for the Principality to speak. Finally, Roc sighed, theatrically.
“It seems,” he commented, “you’ve been causing a bit of trouble.”
“Trouble?” Nate grinned, amused, “Who, me?”
Roc smiled politely. “It would appear that your involvement with the Heir has caused some consternation with the Guardian,” he continued. “And, as you’ve gone so far as to inform her of her heritage, I was hoping you would do me the honour of explaining yourself.”
“Why would I tell you anything?”
“Oh, come now Nathaniel,” Roc exclaimed, his tone light. “Let’s not bicker. We’re old friends you and I.”
“Old friends?” Nate scoffed, shifting as he made himself more comfortable. “If I recall, the last time I saw you, you were plotting to have me killed.”
“But that was decades ago.” Roc feigned surprise, “Surely you’re not one to hold a grudge? Oh, but I forget who I’m talking to.” He frowned in pretend recollection. “Tell me Nathaniel, do you even remember her name?”
Nate glared, his stare murderous.
“It seems you do,” he continued, calmly. “What would she think, I wonder, of your growing affections for the Heir?”
Nate grinned, affecting nonchalance, and ignoring the stab of pain that shot through him. “Oh please, Not you too?” he scoffed, “It seems I’m a better actor than I thought.”
“You can’t pretend to me, Nathaniel. I’ve seen that look before.” Nate scowled as the Principality smiled. “It would appear she’s a bit of a heartbreaker.”
“You’re aware then, of her relationship with the Guardian?” Nate raised an eyebrow, pointedly.
“Oh yes,” Roc nodded his confirmation.
“And you’re not doing anything about it?”
“Why would I do that?” Roc seemed surprised.
Nate stared. “Because it’s against all your petty little rules?” he said, confused.
Roc gazed at him, expressionless. “We’re making an exception,” he said, eventually. “For the time being at least.”
Nate frowned, trying to understand, letting out a low chuckle as it clicked into place.
“You’ve known all along, haven’t you?” he blinked in surprise. “You probably set all this up so they’d meet.” He shook his head incredulously, feeling almost impressed. “But why?”
Roc looked disappointed. “And here I thought you’d be able to figure that out on your own,” he sighed, “Since you happen to be doing the same thing.”
Nate’s eyes widened. “You’re trying to win her,” he realised, “Trying to sway her to your cause by having her fall in love with the Guardian.”
Roc smiled. “I’ve been nurturing the Guardians feelings,” the word sounded foreign coming from his mouth, “Ever since I realised what she meant to him.” His eyes turned hard. “Twelve years of planning have gone into putting this together,” he glared at Nate. “I will not see that ruined because of a Fallen Messenger,” he sneered the term, “Who can’t leave well enough alone.” Roc took a breath, regaining his composure as he sat back into the chair.
Nate stared, stunned. “Why?” he asked.
“What could be stronger?” Roc asked, with a smile. “Than the bond of love?”
Nate processed this. “Does the Guardian know?”
“No,” Roc said, quietly. “He thinks that his love is forbidden.” The Principality smiled. “It’s funny,” he began, standing up and adjusting his coat, “How often people want something more when you tell them they can’t have it.” He glanced at Nate. “But then I guess you already know that.”
Nate glowered, refusing to rise to the bait. “So that’s it?” he asked. “You came all this way just to tell me that I won’t win?” he sneered, “That your devious plan is better than mine?”
“I am here to tell you,” Nisroc stepped towards Nate. “That if you get in my way again,” he leaned forward, his eyes betraying his calm exterior. “I will end you.”
Nate held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated by the man he’d formerly known in Heaven. Roc nodded once, as if satisfied that his work was complete, before disappearing.
Nate didn’t move for a moment, before sinking into the recently vacated chair, his mind awhirl with all he’d learned.
***
Rose shut her door, leaning against it as she took deep breaths to calm her nerves. Nate had said nothing further to her as they’d returned to campus, leaving her at the door of New Court with barely a nod. Rose, conscious of his sudden anger, had stayed quiet, preoccupied with the meaning of Christian’s absence, a sick feeling in her stomach.
Shivering with cold, she unwound her scarf from around her neck, tossing it onto her desk. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail, wincing as it caught on the tangles, before a shiver of heat down her back has her spinning round, her heart surging up into her throat.
Christian barely had time to take in her appearance, before she threw herself into his arms. He hugged her tight as she pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him.
“Rose?” he asked, after they’d not moved for a moment.
Rose pulled back to meet his confused stare. “Where were you?” she choked, the tears returning despite her best efforts. He brow creased and she turned away to curl up on her bed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked urgently, as he followed. His hands reached for her, his eyes roaming as they checked her over – looking for injury, finding none. “What’s wrong?” he asked more gently, smoothing her wet hair back as it stuck to her face.
Rose dropped her gaze, unable to look at him. “You said you’d be there,” she whispered.
She felt his unease as he processed her words, his shock of fear as he considered their meaning. “Tell me,” he said, simply.
Rose took a shaky breath. “Two guys cornered me in the park,” she said, quietly. “demons.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes trailed over her again, looking for any injury he may have missed the first time.
“Yes I’m sure,” Rose said angrily, pulling away from him and standing up. “They knew who I was,” she exclaimed, turning to face him, her expression stony. “They could … feel me.” She shivered. “They grabbed me and I –”
Rose stopped, looking down at her hands, feeling an echo of the current running through them. Christian reached out to her and she jerked away, not wanting to hurt him too. He paused, his gaze flicking to her hands warily.
“You … what?” he asked, guardedly.
Rose clenched her hands into fists, feeling the current fade. “I burned them,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes again. “Where I touched…�
� she stared brokenly as disgust threatened to overwhelm her.
Christian didn’t hesitate before pulling her to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “You’re safe,” he said. “That’s all that matters.”
Rose sank into him, taking comfort from his embrace. She pulled back suddenly, as a thought hit her. “They knew you wouldn’t be there,” she said, urgently. “And Nate said –”
“Nate?” Christian’s eyes hardened. “Nathaniel was there?”
“He stopped them,” she said, warily. “He… pushed them away with his hand…”
Christian glared. “He fought them?” he asked, incredulously. “And you don’t find that a bit convenient?” He sighed in frustration. “Rose you really –”
“He saved my life, Christian,” Rose interrupted, her voice stunned as she pushed herself away from him. “And you, what?” she asked. “Think he set it up?”
“Why are you always so quick to trust him?” Christian asked, his voice rising in frustration. “He’s –”
“You weren’t there,” Rose retorted angrily, cutting him off. “You don’t know what –”
She stopped as Christian slumped, his expression pained, and she realised what she’d said. Gently, she reached out, taking his face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said, quietly. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
He gazed at her for a long minute, and Rose could feel the frustration that his absence caused him, his genuine horror that she could have been hurt. Wanting to comfort him, she crawled into his lap, pulling him close, her arms reaching up around his neck.
“No, I’m sorry,” he whispered, his arms going around her. “I should have been there. I –”
“Shhh,” Rose soothed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine,” she leaned back to look him in the eye. “It’s okay.”
“You’re cold,” he said quietly, feeling her shiver against him. “You should change.” His tone was subdued.
Rose let him push her off his lap and he moved to fill the kettle, clicking it on and leaning his hands against the counter, his back to her. He sighed, his head tipping back, eyes closed.
She peeled off her wet clothes, pulling on one of his oversized tee-shirts and returning to her bed as Christian made tea. He placed the mugs on Rose’s bed side table before joining her, lying on his back and pulling her to him. Rose snuggled in, grateful that they appeared to have stopped fighting.
“What were you doing?” she asked lightly, hoping he wouldn’t take it as an accusation.
He sighed in resignation. “I received a visit from a Prince,” he said, trailing his fingers through her wet hair to loosen the tangles. “He… closed off the building so I couldn’t feel you.”
“They know that I… I know?”
Christian nodded.
“What are they going to do about it?” she asked, nervously.
“Nothing,” Christian said. “There’s nothing they can do.” He glared at the ceiling. “Not until you’ve sworn fealty.”
Rose considered this. “So,” she asked, “If I don’t pick a side they can’t touch me?”
Christian shrugged. “Essentially.”
“Well then I won’t,” she said, as though it were obvious. “Ever.”
Christian smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You won’t be able to not,” he said. “Eventually one or the other will force your hand.” His eyes grew dark as he considered the endless possibilities.
They stayed silent, each contemplating, before Rose sat up.
“How did they know?” she asked. “The men – the demons,” she corrected, “who attacked me?”
“What do you mean?” Christian frowned.
“They knew you wouldn’t … that you wouldn’t be there,” she said quietly.
Christian winced. “I don’t know,” he said. “Someone must have seen me with the Prince?”
She lay back down, lost in thought. “It’s going to happen again, isn’t it?” she asked, quietly.
Christian didn’t respond, not knowing what to say to quell her fears.
Rose, taking his silence for confirmation, pulled him closer. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “Today was –”
“Today was a fluke,” he said adamantly. “I won’t leave you alone again,” he sought her gaze, his eyes earnest.
Rose was silent for a moment, before nodding resolutely. “I know,” she said, watching as relief flooded his eyes at her words.
Christian kissed her forehead, pulling her close. “They won’t touch you again,” he resolved, determined.
Rose felt herself relax into him as the stress of the day’s events caught up with her. She closed her eyes, drifting into an exhausted doze, secure in the protection of Christian’s arms. His hands soothed as they trailed across her skin, lulling her into a deeper sleep and leaving him to his troubled thoughts.
***
Nate stormed out of his room in frustration, coming to a halt as he took in the man standing in front of him, uncertainly.
“I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now,” he told the Guardian, turning away to walk down the hallway, his only intention to find a bar he could wallow in for the night.
“Can we talk?” Christian asked, calmly.
Nate paused before turning back to face him with a sigh. “Might as well,” he said, annoyed. “Everyone else has had a go.” He returned to his door and pushed it open with a flourish. “Ladies first.” He grinned, sardonically.
Christian sighed but stepped into the room, glancing around as Nate shut the door.
“I wanted to thank you,” Christian began, “for your … assistance earlier.”
Nate raised an eyebrow; the Guardian looked the furthest thing from grateful. “It was my pleasure,” he said, with a glib smile. “Although a heads up would be nice, the next time you need me to do your job for you.”
Christian clenched his jaw, refusing to take the bait.
“Where were you anyway?” Nate continued, his tone goading. “While I was out, saving the girl.” He grinned maliciously as Christian’s eyes tightened.
“I was out of reach,” he said, carefully. “My attendance was required elsewhere.”
“Figures,” Nate shrugged. “Although, I must admit I was surprised. I didn’t expect you to forget her so easily.” He smiled. “Bored already?”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Christian sneered, his patience wearing thin. “The opportunity to step in and play the hero?”
Nate grinned. “Been there,” he told Christian, his eyes challenging, “Done that.”
“How did you do it?” Christian demanded, his frustration finally got the better of him. “Did you set it up? Have your friends attack her so you could rush in?” he scowled in contempt. “Save the day just to confuse her?”
Please,” Nate appraised him, distastefully. “Even I wouldn’t sink to that. Although…” he allowed, with a conceding grin. “Turns out I didn’t need to.” He hesitated in the following silence before he sighed. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” Christian glowered. “Confused,” he added, reluctantly.
Nate looked up in question.
“Don’t pretend to me,” Christian scoffed. “I won’t fall for the good guy act.”
“But Rose has,” Nate grinned as he understood. “I bet you’re just thrilled at that.”
Christian stepped forward, glaring down at the shorter man. “Do not think for one second,” he spat, “That you can win this.”
Nate stood his ground, staring at the Guardian with contempt. “You forget who you’re threatening, boy,” he jeered. “I was killing your kind millennia before you even drew breath.”
“Threaten you?” Christian grinned, a cold glint in his eyes. “Why would I bother?” he held the other’s gaze. “She won’t ever touch you.”
“You’ve not been paying attention, Guardian,” Nate goaded, with a cold smile. “I got closer to the girl in a few short days than you managed in eighteen years.” He
took a step forward. “And yet you still think you can keep her interested?” his gaze flicked over the taller man in amusement. “Can keep her … satisfied?”
“Perhaps it’s you that’s not been paying attention,” Christian countered, “Or have you forgotten that I have that which you so plainly seek,” he smiled coldly. “I’ve lifted her soul in ways you cannot begin to comprehend.”
“Her soul?” Nate laughed. “You really need to spend more time with human girls if you think that ‘lifting her soul’ is going to get the job done.”
“You think a drunken teenage fumble in a nightclub is a match for what I can offer her?” Christian mocked.
“Obviously it is,” Nate replied, simply. “Or she wouldn’t be, what was the word you used? Confused?”
Christian reached out, grabbing Nate by the throat, squeezing his fingers in warning. Nate chuckled, even as the pressure increased.
“Temper, temper,” he taunted, “That’s not very friendly.” He grinned. “Perhaps we’re more alike than you’d care to admit.”
Christian glared, his fingers tightening further before he reigned in his anger, releasing Nate from his grip and taking a step back.
Nate, using the opportunity to catch him off guard, splayed his fingers and pushed, feeling the pressure release from his hand in a satisfying blast as it hit the Guardian square in the chest. He blinked in surprise as Christian stood, unaffected, grinning down at him in open amusement.
“Your tricks might impress humans,” he smiled widely at Nate’s confusion,” But they won’t work on –”
His words were cut short as Nate, recovering fast, connected with a venomous right hook to the Guardian’s jaw. Christian stepped back, absorbing the impact on his heels even as his head snapped back from the blow. He reached out and grabbed Nate by the shirt, his fist raised in retaliation.
“That,” he spat through his teeth, “Was unnecessary.”
“Perhaps,” Nate grinned, before grabbing Christian in an identical stance, countering the larger man’s height advantage easily. “But I feel a lot better now.”
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