Highland Guardian

by Melissa Mayhue

  “You must feel something by now. We’ve been walking for quite some time. Are you stupid?”

  Sarah came to an abrupt halt, wrenching her arm from Ramos’s grasp as she turned to face the man—no, the Fae—several paces behind her. The sight of Nicole sickened her, the woman’s face expressionless as she hurried to keep up with the others.

  “Look. I have no idea where this place is or even what I’m looking for, so how the hell do you expect me to be able to tell you when we get there?”

  “You should feel the pull toward it.” Reynard stopped as well, glaring at her. “Do you?”

  “No. Maybe.”

  They were on the path Ian had warned her to avoid. It was the only place she felt any sort of pull at all. The farther she went, the stronger it got. She’d brought them this way wondering what she would do if she actually found this Portal they sought.

  When she found it. Not if. She accepted that now. Believed all of it. Too late.

  If only I’d listened to Ian. The thought pounded at the back of her mind, over and over, to the point she almost thought she could feel him. Feel his presence moving toward her.

  I’m sorry. Sorry I doubted you. She closed her eyes and let her shoulders sag, feeling the weight of being alone in this. Of knowing she had no one but herself to depend on now. No one but herself to blame. She tried to fight the overwhelming despair, refusing to let the tears that threatened fall.

  Ramos’s touch brought her back from the edge, a second before Reynard’s condescending voice struck at her again.

  “You’d best get moving, girl. The longer you delay, the more likely it is one of your friends at the manor house will suffer some sort of accident. Some sort of fatal accident.”

  The chuckle that followed his threat pushed her over the edge. Thankful for the rain that camouflaged her tears, she wiped them both from her face and started toward him. Only Ramos’s newly established grasp on her elbow held her back.

  But it didn’t silence her. Nothing could have done that.

  “You disgust me. You are, without a doubt, the most vile, evil creature I have ever experienced.”

  “So I’ve been told. Now get moving.”

  She turned her back on him at Ramos’s urging, stumbling forward again.

  “Don’t fight him, Sarah.” Ramos spoke so quietly she was forced to lean in closer to hear his words. “His mind is made up.”

  “If he’s so determined that I do what he wants, why doesn’t he just use that compulsion thing on me? Turn me into a zombie, like her.” She tilted her head back in Nicole’s direction.

  He looked at her oddly before answering. “I believe he tried. At the cottage.”

  The tingling and Reynard’s surprise.

  Ramos shrugged. “I’ve never seen it not work before. Obviously you’re too powerful for him to control.”

  Powerful? Hardly.

  “Then there’s nothing he can do to me.”

  “Don’t antagonize him. He can be a very dangerous man to have as an enemy. He’s only trying to save our people.”

  “You have no idea, do you?” She glanced up at him. “You say you know what I am. Do you know that I feel the truth about people? That I feel the truth about you? About him?”

  His fingers tightened on her elbow. “Yes. We figured out that you’re a Sensor.”

  “When we spent the day together, I told you the truth I felt in you. You’re a good person. Too good to be a part of this.” She had to make him understand. “Back there on the trail, I told the truth about your father. He’s nothing like you. Your father is pure evil. Everything he’s ever told you about your people was a lie. I’ve seen the blackness in him. I will not help him. I can’t let myself be consumed by that evil. Please don’t try to make me do this. Please don’t let him do this. To either of us.”

  Though doubt flickered behind his eyes, the years of conditioning were too strong. He dropped his gaze and pulled at her arm, urging her forward.

  Her head bowed, she stared at the ground as she made her way farther into the forest along the overgrown path. The wet leaves slipped under her feet, making small squishing noises.

  She would just have to figure out what to do on her own. If ever she’d needed the guidance of the Fates—or Faeries, as it were—it was now. If she was indeed one of their own, now was the time for them to come to her aid. She concentrated, opening herself to everything that was around her, praying for their help.

  All she could feel was Ian. His essence surrounded her, filling her with a confidence she was sorely lacking.

  Looking up, she realized how much she needed that confidence boost at this moment. And wished she had even more. There, tucked into the bushes and rocks, surrounded by ancient gnarled trees, stood a carved stone archway.

  None of the others seemed to notice. Her stomach lurched and for a moment she thought she might be sick.

  Obviously she’d found the Portal.

  * * *

  Ian slid to a halt, reaching out to the nearest tree to steady himself. Despair rolled over him in waves. Sarah’s despair, forcing him to take great gulps of air just to remain standing.

  She needed him. Called out to him.

  He tilted his head, listening. No sound but the patter of rain.

  “Have faith, luv,” he whispered in answer to the silent plea. “Yer a stronger woman than you know. You’ve powers beyond yer own dreams.” He closed his eyes, willing her to feel him. “Take courage. I’m coming for you. I will save you. I swear it.”

  Squatting down, he ran his hand over the sodden earth. Evidence of their earlier passage was easy to find. They’d taken no care to hide their movement.

  He was very close.

  Bradley Tanner had been the man in his home, threatening his family and those he held dear. It hadn’t taken much for Ian to subdue him. Compulsion or no, Tanner was no match for him. He’d used care, as Dallyn had warned. Tanner would recover, with very little memory of the incident, as was typical of Mortals held under a compulsion. Ian was almost embarrassed at the pleasure he’d received from taking the man down. Almost.

  But the pleasure had been short-lived when he’d stepped outside and found the Fae gone. That surely meant the others were nearing the Portal.

  Now, as he rose, he looked around, suddenly struck by a jolt of familiarity. The gray mist closed in on him, feeding his own anxiety.

  He hurried forward, no longer needing the signs the others had left behind in order to follow them. In spite of everything he’d done, all the pain and sacrifice, it was still coming down to this.

  His dread grew as he neared the spot where he knew he would find them. The spot he had already seen.

  In his dream.

  * * *

  Sarah gasped and covered her ears with her hands. She turned in a complete circle, peering into the surrounding forest. She barely noticed as Ramos moved away from her, off the path and into the woods.

  “What game do you play with us now, ma petite? I tire of your attempts to delay.” Reynard’s hard glare was the least of her problems.

  Her hands moved as if of their own accord from her ears to her mouth, to cover the bubble of hysterical laughter she felt coming.

  I’m losing my mind.

  She had heard Ian’s voice, as clearly as if he’d stood next to her, whispering encouragement, promising to save her.

  Reynard stood in front of her, only inches away. “Get moving.”

  “No.” Perhaps it had only been her own conscience she’d heard. Whatever the source, it was what she’d needed. “It’s over. This ends now.”

  The time had come for her to make her stand. She would not be the means for evil to wreak havoc on the world. On any world.

  Reynard’s hands closed on her shoulders, squeezing, but she felt no pain.

  “You’ll move or I’ll—”

  “There’s nothing you can do to me,” she interrupted, hearing the wonder in her voice that she felt. “You have no control over me, no
way to force your will.”

  It was all true. He was one of the Fae and he had no power over her.

  * * *

  She was so close. He could feel her confusion, her distress. His need to soothe her consumed him.

  “I’m coming for you. Hold on, luv. I’ll save you.” Over and over he sent the message to her, concentrating on her emotions as they connected with his own.

  He was so absorbed in his effort to console her he missed the first sign, the slight current of tension in the air. But he’d been a warrior for too much of his life to miss the second, the almost imperceptible flash of movement.

  By the time Ramos emerged from the cover of underbrush, Ian was instinctively ready for combat. His mind shifted automatically into battle mode, fully engaged in the tactical back-and-forth, anticipating his opponent’s moves rather than reacting to them.

  He absorbed the impact of the other man’s body against his own, using his adversary’s momentum to propel him into position, rolling to his feet only an instant before Ramos did the same.

  They circled, assessing one another, seeking any opportunity for an advantage. Ian didn’t plan to give him one.

  Seizing the initiative, he attacked, drawing Ramos in as he’d expected. Grabbing the man’s arm and neck in one smooth motion, Ian turned a sharp circle, pushing Ramos’s face to the ground. What he had not expected, however, was the quick recovery by Ramos, pulling up and to Ian’s side, using his leg to lock Ian in place.

  The younger man was good, but experience had its benefits. Ian rolled behind Ramos, blocked his turn and, wrapping his arm around Ramos’s neck, cut off his air.

  The battle was at an end as far as Ian was concerned. He could taste victory. There was no way for Ramos to break free of the hold Ian had on the man.

  It was in this position he felt it again, the small wave of tension preceding violence. Scanning the area quickly, looking for another attacker, he caught sight through the trees of the clearing on their left.

  What he saw chilled him to his core.

  An involuntary noise, more animal than human crawled its way up and out his throat. The younger man, startled, strained to look in that direction as well.

  “Oh, Christ,” Ramos breathed. “What’s he thinking to do now?”

  The horror in his voice reflected the horror Ian felt.

  It was the exact scene from his dream.

  Whatever the cost to him, he had to find a way to stop what he knew was about to happen. He needed to be closer. There was only one way he could think of to get there quickly.

  Ian loosened his hold. Instantly the younger man produced a knife and held it to Ian’s throat.

  “Look to the clearing, McCullough. End your struggles and come with me before things there spiral completely out of hand.”

  Ramos nudged him forward, but Ian needed no encouragement. The clearing was exactly where he wanted to be.

  * * *

  Rage distorted the beauty of Reynard’s features, revealing the monstrous nature Sarah had felt in him before.

  “You think to defy me? We’ll see about that,” he snarled, his features righting themselves. “Ramos, bring him.”

  Sarah felt the wind knocked from her as surely as if she’d been struck. Behind her on the path, Ramos stepped from the forest, his arm around Ian’s throat, a knife held there.

  “Let him go.” She spoke quietly, the words intended for Reynard only, though her gaze was fixed on Ian. His absolute stillness baffled her, yet she was grateful he didn’t struggle. She tried to rein in the fear that threatened to engulf her at the sight of that knife. Ramos wouldn’t use it, would he? Then again, she wouldn’t have thought him capable of any of this.

  “Please,” she added.

  Reynard’s hand slid from her shoulder to her chin, turning her face to meet his eyes.

  One look and the fear momentarily overwhelmed her, swamping her senses. There was nothing there to give her hope. With his touch she could see to the depths of his soul, yet all she could find was an empty black pit of malevolent inhumanity.

  “It’s very simple, ma petite. Take me to the Portal now, or Ramos kills him. You can watch the mighty Guardian, sworn Protector of the pitiful Mortals, die, his lifeblood spilled out on the ground. Here. In front of your very eyes. Is that what you want?”

  “Sworn Protector of the Mortals?” Ramos’s voice sounded confused to her ears, but she couldn’t turn to look at him. Couldn’t break eye contact with Reynard. “Is that true? You never told me that.”

  “There are many things I’ve not told you. Many things you’ve no need to know.”

  “Is it the truth?” Ramos demanded.

  “Aye, it’s true.” Ian’s voice. “I’ve spent the last six centuries protecting them from the ravages caused by yer people. Those who murder Mortals at random for nothing more than the energy released when their soul is forced from its host before its time. Thousands upon thousands of lives lost to those monsters. Those same monsters who would capture the Fountain of Souls for their own purpose, throwing the cycle of life out of balance again, risking what’s left of humanity in both worlds.”

  “Father?”

  “You doubt me, son? You’d listen to the words of a Guardian? A creature who’s no more than a lap dog to the enemies of our people?” Reynard’s displeasure flowed through his physical link to Sarah as his fingers tightened their grip.

  “Ian doesn’t lie to you, Ramos. What he tells you is the truth. I attest to that. It’s as I told you before.” She had to convince him, had to get him to drop the knife from Ian’s throat.

  “Father? Is what the Guardian says true?”

  A cruel smile curled Reynard’s lip. “In a manner of speaking.”

  “We’re responsible for all those deaths?” The horror in Ramos’s voice washed over Sarah, his acceptance of the truth bringing him physical pain, which she could feel.

  She couldn’t let that distract her. There was much more at stake here than one man’s pain.

  “Deaths that were of no consequence. Mortal deaths. Once we retake the Faerie Realm, once you taste the power of the Fountain, then you’ll understand why all of this has been necessary. You will take me to the Portal, Sarah. Now.” Reynard’s eyes sparkled, and once again the tingling started, this time in her face, where he touched her.

  “Of no consequence? Father, have you forgotten that I am as much Mortal as I am Fae? That those Mortals whose lives you so easily dismiss are my people, too?”

  Reynard’s eyes narrowed and the tingling in Sarah’s face grew more intense, as if tiny needles poked her skin. His jaw clenched and his hand on her face trembled.

  “Try as you will. You have no power over me,” she whispered.

  Surprise, disappointment, disgust and, finally, resignation—each in turn flowed through the connection before his hand dropped from her face. Their gazes remained locked as he responded to his son.

  “No. I haven’t forgotten what you are. Nicole.” He glanced away, toward the woman Sarah had all but dismissed from her mind. “Kill one of the men. I don’t care which. Perhaps that will help our little Sarah to understand how serious we are.”

  Sarah looked at the other woman. Her handbag lay on the ground, and a large gun in her hand was pointed directly at Sarah. No wonder Ian hadn’t struggled. She watched as the gun slowly turned toward Ian and Ramos.

  “You can’t mean that. He’s your son.”

  Reynard shrugged carelessly. “He’s also a Mortal.”

  The gun now pointed directly at the two men, though Nicole looked as if she fought her own body to stop what she was doing, an expression of desperation replacing the blankness that had been there only moments before.

  “No.” A mere whisper of protest was all that Sarah could manage as she turned back to see the smile of pleasure on Reynard’s face.

  She placed her hand on his chest. He had to stop this. Though she didn’t touch bare skin, a connection formed immediately, opening her to his emo
tions. Satisfaction at his complete control of the situation, anticipation of the imminent death of one of the men. No remorse, no compassion, not even for his son.

  One glance toward the two men and her decision was made. Ian risked his life for her. He may have left her, but now, when she needed him most, he had come back. To save her. Just as Dallyn had said he would.

  “No,” she screamed, bringing her other hand up to Reynard’s chest.

  She felt her face grow warm. A rage born of desperation filled Sarah’s mind. A red haze of fury such as she had never known washed over her. Determination to succeed at any cost consumed her.

  Not Reynard’s.

  All her own.

  She would not allow the man she loved to die. She would risk everything for Ian.

  * * *

  Ian watched in horror as his dream replayed itself before him in real life, each vague detail brought into sharp, clear focus.

  Now he knew the invisible force that had held him in his dream was in reality fear. Not for himself, but for Sarah. When his attention had been drawn to the clearing, the scene unfolding there had forced him into submission. It was the only way he could think of to get near the action, to be in a position to act to change what he knew was going to happen.

  It wasn’t Reynard, rage distorting his face as he held Sarah that struck fear to his soul, or even that they stood only meters away from the Portal. It was the gun Nicole Tanner clearly aimed at Sarah that stole Ian’s ability to fight, binding his hands as surely as the finest steel could have. That and the knowledge that Sarah would be shot.

  Nicole raised the gun and he stared directly down the barrel, thankful it pointed in his direction. It didn’t matter if the woman pulled the trigger as long as she didn’t fire at Sarah.

  Sarah had looked in his direction, a strange little smile on her beautiful face before she turned and screamed at Reynard, her hands to his chest as if to push him away. But she didn’t push.

  If he lived for a thousand years, he would still be able to describe every horrific detail, playing out in slow motion, burned into the fabric of his psyche.

  Reynard’s screams of agony drew his attention away from the gun an instant before he heard the discharge. Ramos’s shoulder hit his chest broadside, knocking him to the ground, Ramos landing on top of him with a loud grunt.