House of Guardians

by Beatrice Sand

  Someone blocks my view.

  “Hello, Laurel.”

  I blink my eyes and try to remember where I’ve seen this guy before. At school? He is tall, has black hair and almost the same color eyes. He wears a black leather jacket, and his face is scarily perfect—yet his mouth is cruel. As a matter of fact, his whole appearance is somehow alarming. “Sorry,” I say, “I… Do we know each other from school?”

  He smiles a wicked grin. “No, unfortunately it didn’t come to that.”

  Not understanding I look at him, but he doesn’t say anything else. He reaches out his hand.

  “I am Adrian.”

  I shake his hand and mine disappears into his enormous claws. He almost breaks my fingers and I wriggle out of his grip. “Laurel,” I say. And then I feel the shiver. He already knew my name. I look at him a little longer and then I know. It’s the guy from the restaurant who had to wait for his food for a very long time. I remember being rude to him. “You’ve eaten in our restaurant. I served you.”

  “Eventually, yes.”

  I look at him apologetically. “Did I even apologize to you? It was a messy evening.”

  He laughs. “It sure was. No need to apologize, though. It was worth the wait,” he says amicably.

  “Forgive me for letting you and your friend wait so long. Next time you come for dinner, drinks are on the house.”

  “Oh, you can be sure I will come back. We’ll have that drink together.”

  I give him a friendly smile and try to watch the stage.

  “What do you think of Chaos?”

  “Who?”

  He flashes a smile. “The band on stage.”

  “Oh right, eh, it’s okay I guess, not really my kind of music.”

  He smiles. “My thoughts exactly.”

  I wonder why he’s here, then, but almost immediately realize that there will be other bands. I’m ready to ditch him, but I don’t know how to do it. I look behind me to see if the drinks are ready yet.

  “You haven’t lived here very long, have you?”

  “About seven months now.”

  “How do you like it?”

  “Hard to say. There is enough rain, that’s for sure.”

  He laughs and his piercing stare is making me a little uneasy. I look at the stage and my eyes catch Sam’s. Above the heads of the dancing crowd, I see his expression harden.

  “Five Coke,” someone yells.

  The bartender puts down five cups and calls out a total. I feel in my pockets, but realize I didn’t bring any money.

  Adrian waves a bundle of bills and slides them across the bar. “Keep the change,” I hear him say.

  Stunned, I look at him. “I will pay you right back. I just need to get money from my friend.”

  “No need.”

  “Oh, thank you.” I smile hastily and wedge the tops of the paper cups in between my fingers. “Well, see you around.”

  “I’ll take you up on that drink, Laurel. See you soon.”

  I stutter another thanks and get away from him as quickly as possible.

  By the time I get back, another band has appeared on stage and I am finally able to relax. After a while, we leave our spot and walk to a less crowded part of the pier.

  “Andreas in those leather pants, whoa, mouthwateringly,” Maude drools.

  “So much for imagination,” Ava remarks dryly.

  Maude sighs and looks at Ava desperately. “Why do they ignore us? What’s wrong with us?”

  I shift my weight from one leg to the other. Every few seconds, I glance over my shoulder. What do I expect? That Sam will come looking for me?

  “Laurel wasn’t exactly ignored,” Ava says. “Is there something you want to share with us?”

  “What? No… I… The other day I couldn’t find my class, and Sam helped me get there. That’s all. He probably recognized me.”

  “Sam brought you to your class?” Maude falters as if she needs oxygen. “He physically walked you to your class?”

  “Is that so special?”

  “Pretty much so, judging from the fact that they avoid girls like the plague.”

  Maude examines me from head to toe, like she’s trying to figure out why me.

  “Well, ignored or not, they can’t stop us from watching their show,” she says a little annoyed.

  I suddenly feel something wet bumping heavily up against my hand, and I quickly pull away. I stumble backwards when I see it’s Sam’s dog, but the animal only gets closer. Fortunately, it doesn’t jump on me. In spite of my fear, I stick out my hand and give him a quick rub. “Hey, there you are again. Remember me?”

  “His memory is amazingly well-developed.”

  I look up at the sound of the heavy voice. Golden flecks sparkle in the bright brown eyes. They look extra striking beneath his gray beanie. His skin is still damp and in his cheek a dimple appears. He’s got me, regardless what he is going to say next.

  “No more homeless with empty stomachs?”

  “Not tonight at least.” My voice sounds more hoarse than I want, and I clear my throat.

  “You guys played some very cool songs,” Maude interrupts.

  “Thanks,” Sam says without taking his eyes off me.

  “I had no idea that with live music you meant music you played yourself.”

  “So the stain you left on my guitar case recently did not betray me?”

  “No,” I giggle, “I was too busy keeping an eye on this creature here.”

  “Next round is on me,” Hugo says.

  “Last round wasn’t on me,” I report.

  “Who’s was it then?”

  I look around as though I were expecting to see the black-haired guy somewhere. “Some guy named Adrian.”

  Sam’s face shoots my way.

  “Can I get you a drink,” Hugo asks Sam.

  Sam politely turns down the drink. I do too and shift my attention to Storm to avoid the bewildered faces of my friends. I know that they are burning with curiosity and that they can’t wait to hear the story. “You may have scared me to death, but your eyes sure are amazing.” I bury my hands in the dog’s thick fur and he seems to enjoy it. When I hear him growl, I quickly pull my hands away.

  “How old is he?” I ask Sam.

  “Almost one.”

  “Only one?” Surprised, I look at the young dog. “He stands high on his legs for a puppy.”

  “You have an eye for it.”

  “Our old neighbors had shepherds. I practically grew up with them.”

  “And yet you’re afraid of them.”

  It’s more a statement of fact than a question, so I don’t answer. “What kind of breed is Storm?”

  “A wolf dog, a breed that is close to a wolf, but I’m sure you had guessed that.”

  I laugh. “So I was kind of right when I called him a wolf.”

  He looks at me for a long time before he answers. “Yes.”

  “It is a beautiful animal, really cool.”

  The wolf dog continues to shove its broad snout to my hand and I take a step back.

  Sam grabs him by the collar and drags him back abruptly. “Now stop it!”

  Storm sits obediently and looks at his boss heartbroken. I shove my hands into my pockets as far as they’ll go. Sam looks at me curiously, while my friends are still observing us from a distance. Nothing escapes their attention.

  “So, you’re Dutch?”

  Dazed, I look down. “Am I wearing wooden shoes or something?”

  Sam smiles. “Your accent.”

  “Oh, that obvious? Yeah, still working on it.”

  “No, don’t!”

  And then it happens again—my heart skips another beat. Speechless, we stare at each other.

  “Sam!” A tall figure comes running ou
r way. The tattooed singer in leather pants. I can almost hear Maude drool. “We’re ready, are you coming?”

  “I’ll walk home.”

  The guy that was just singing with an extremely powerful voice shifts his gaze to me. The expression on his face is far from friendly. I look down.

  “Just leave my stuff on the doorstep.”

  “Yeah, no prob.” The handsome singer gives Sam a slap on the back. “Keep out of trouble.” He hurries off, shaking his head.

  “Storm has been in the car this whole time, he’s got energy to burn.” Sam hesitates briefly before continuing. “Would you like to come to the beach with us?”

  “Yeah, I’d like that.” I’m hoping I don’t sound over-eager.

  “Storm, beach.”

  Sam gives the others a brief nod and starts walking away.

  I quickly wave goodbye myself, and when I walk away I feel their burning eyes in my back. I can visualize their open mouths.

  I follow Sam and his wolf dog, who go ahead of me.

  I notice that women are vying for Sam’s attention and several of them approach him. He dismisses them quickly, but one of them, he kisses on the cheek and talks to for a bit.

  “Good luck with all the preparations,” I hear her say. “I am looking forward to summer.”

  “Thank you, Anaïtis. Me too. I’ll see you then,” Sam says politely. After a quick glance my way, he continues to walk and I follow him.

  To my own surprise, I get approached as well, by a big guy holding a can of beer.

  “Where are you going, baby?”

  He blows the words into my face and a cloud of alcohol fumes leaves me almost gagging. I shuffle away. Meanwhile, I lost Sam in the crowd.

  Apparently I have not managed to shake off my admirer, because suddenly his arm is around my waist. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Out of nowhere, Sam is standing in front of us. He looks at me, and then his burning gaze moves to the big guy. “I think that means she is not interested in you.” He slaps away the hand around my waist with a speed that makes my eyes struggle to keep up. The can flies out of his hand. Sam pulls me in front of him and the man sends a barrage of curses toward Sam and his family. I feel Sam’s fist tightening in my back. I look back anxiously and see the man reappearing behind us.

  “Sam,” I warn.

  A beefy hand lands on Sam’s shoulder. “You will pay for that beer, jerk, otherwise…”

  In a flash Sam turns around and clasps his hand around the man’s wrist. “Don’t try that again.”

  “Really? And that’s supposed to frighten me?”

  “No, but my boxing skills will. So I advise you to back the hell off. Got that?”

  For a moment I am afraid that a fight will break out, but the man pales and staggers backward. Sam turns his back on him fearlessly. With his face set in a grim expression he takes me by the elbow and leads me away from the crowd.

  The illustrious, elusive Sam Laurens is touching my arm… Despite the layers of fabric, my skin glows under his touch. His hand is red hot.

  In one piece we reach the end of the pier, where the wolf dog is already waiting for us. We walk down the wharf and scramble to the surf over the slippery rocks.

  5

  laurel

  We walk in silence. There’s a group of young people sitting near a bonfire. They’ve brought their own music and gangster rap is blasting from the speakers. In terms of music, this is not my night.

  “So you box as well?” I ask Sam.

  Sam glances my way. “I practice multiple combat sports.”

  I blink my eyes. “Wow. That’s… frightening.”

  He smiles. “They’re a good release, just like making music.”

  “I bet it does.”

  “Let’s sit down for a while.”

  Sam sits down on the sand and I sit down next to him. Storm is standing at the water’s edge as though he were frozen. Most dogs would already be frolicking in the water by now.

  “I understand that you’re not a fan of hard rock?”

  Bewildered, I look at him. Did I tell him that? “I thought you guys were great.”

  His eyebrows go down. “Very diplomatic, but watch it, I can tell when you’re lying.”

  “No, really. I was impressed. It’s crazy to think that all of you go to school as well. And the singer is awesome!”

  “Andreas?” He pronounces the singer’s name with a heavy accent.

  “If that’s his name, yes. He has a great raspy voice. I like that.”

  I hear a muffled curse. Sam grabs his left chest and throws himself on the sand. “You break my heart.”

  Laughing, I look at his beautiful long eyelashes. “Sorry, the guitar sounded nice too,” I lie. That guitar was harrowing.

  Sam cracks one eye open. “You hated it.”

  “Well, don’t bring it up if you can’t handle the answer.”

  He bites his lower lip seductively and gets up effortlessly. “Wow. Are all Dutch girls so harsh?”

  “No, just me. Which is why I am no longer welcome there.”

  Sam smiles. “And now we’re stuck with you.”

  “I’ve learned how to hold a map and how to catch a ball. It’s okay if you decide not to help me anymore.”

  The left corner of his mouth pulls up. “I don’t mind, Laurel,” he says quietly.

  Hearing him say my name gives me a strange feeling. Painfully shy, I look at the ocean, mostly because I don’t know what else to say. Sam’s dog is still standing motionless at the water’s edge. “Is he scared of water?”

  “Does he look scared of anything to you?”

  “No, he doesn’t. But he just stands there. Aren’t you going to throw him a stick or something?”

  “No, those sorts of things are not helpful for him. He loves to be on his own.”

  I laugh scornfully. “I have yet to meet a dog that doesn’t love to go after a stick. Look at him, so sad. He’s waiting for you.”

  “He’s waiting for a fish.”

  “Yeah, right, you’re just lazy.”

  “First harsh, now stubborn.” He makes a tsk, tsk sound with his tongue. “It’s getting worse and worse.”

  “Stubborn?”

  “First you persist about him not being a dog, and now you refuse to believe that he doesn’t want to run after a stick. Storm is a lot smarter than most dogs, he doesn’t do tricks.”

  “Well, I’ll have to see it with my own eyes first.”

  “Go ahead if you don’t believe me.”

  I swallow. How dangerous could it be to throw a stick? I assume Storm will run after the stick, not after me. I shake off my blazer.

  “Laurel, if you’re not comfortable doing it, then don’t. I dared you just for fun.”

  “It’s okay. Maybe Storm will help me get over my fear. He won’t attack me out of nowhere, will he?”

  “No, strangely enough he reacts very differently to you. Normally he is much more reserved with people. I think he likes you.”

  For a brief moment, I wonder who he is talking about, exactly. Confused, I walk over to the impressive wolf dog. I scratch his ear. “Hey, Storm. Let’s find you a stick and prove your master wrong, okay?”

  I search for something to throw and Sam points with his chin to a broken-off branch. I trudge over to it and laugh at his helpfulness—I’m sure he can’t wait to show me he’s right.

  Storm curiously follows me on his tall, slender legs and I toss the thick branch as far away as I can. Of course, I throw like a girl—barely challenging a tough dog like Storm. I throw it again and encourage him this time.

  “Go get it, Storm!” He just stays beside me, growling softly. “Come on! Fetch!”

  He simply refuses to go after it and presses his wet muzzle against my hand. He does want to play,
just not fetch. I am expecting Sam to start laughing out loud, but when I look at him, I see him studying me with a serious expression on his face.

  I refuse to give up, but after another few unsuccessful attempts, I throw my hands up in defeat. I play with Storm some more, because he seems to like it. Sometimes he bites me playfully, it’s a little borderline.

  “Storm, take it easy,” Sam calls from his spot on the sand.

  I stop when it gets a little too rough for me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had so much fun with a dog. Fourteen years, to be precise.

  Panting, I fall down next to Sam and blow a strand of hair out of my face. “He is full of energy.”

  “Yep, he can happily go on for hours.”

  I feel a static shock when Sam suddenly grabs my arm. His warm hand glows on my bare skin and it stings, tingles. Carefully, Sam examines my arm.

  “Did he bite you?”

  “Not very hard, just playfully.”

  He lets go of my arm and I immediately wriggle into my jacket. No doubt he has noticed his touch affected me. Hurt me.

  “I’m glad he doesn’t scare you anymore.”

  “Maybe a little. He is, well, close to nature. And you were right,” I say unmoved, “he doesn’t chase a stick.”

  “If you’d like him to roll over or make him sit, there has to be something in it for him. A piece of red meat, preferably bloody, could work. No guarantees.”

  “In that case, take him to the restaurant some other time. I’m sure my dad has something for him.”

  His eyes open wide as though I just told him that I like to rob newborn wolf puppies from their dens. “Your dad?”

  “The restaurant you were in the other day is my dad’s. He is a chef.”

  For a moment he looks confused. “The restaurant’s chef is your father?”

  “Yeah.”