House of Guardians

by Beatrice Sand

  I am just rounding the corner when Sam jumps off the balustrade and lands beside me. He stands so close that I can feel the heat from his steaming body, and a strong leather smell reaches my nose.

  “Who?”

  “Bastian. I found him by the park, in the bushes to be exact.”

  With rapid movements, he unwinds the other strap. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know, he’s bleeding, but he reacted kind of crazy when I suggested calling an ambulance. I didn’t know where else to take him. Maybe you can let your dad…”

  Sam is staring at me with big, wide eyes like I’ve just told him extraterrestrial life has been discovered. “He is… bleeding?”

  “Yes, I think he took a nasty fall.”

  Sam’s astonished expression is replaced with concern. “Did you help him?”

  “No, I left him there all by himself. Of course I helped him.”

  “I mean, have you touched the blood?”

  “No. Does he have some sort of infectious disease or something?”

  I hear a sigh escaping his lips. “Has he been drinking?”

  Oh, crap.

  Sam looks at me in a very disturbing way. “Answer the question.”

  I peek past him to the punching bag, where the imprint of his knee is still visible. “He, ehm, wanted me to bring him to Andreas. But I didn’t kn…”

  “Has Bastian been drinking, Laurel?” Sam cuts me off. His voice is commanding, and I feel intimidated by his suddenly dark and dominant irises.

  “He smells of alcohol.”

  Sam curses out loud, throws a very long strap on the ground, and strides to the front of the cabin. Worried, I run after him. Had I misjudged the situation? Should I have called an ambulance after all?

  “Bastian!” Sam taps Bastian on his cheek and feels his wrist. “How long has he been in a coma?”

  “When I got out of the car, he was still conscious. He’s been slipping in and out of consciousness and he talks gibberish.”

  “Gibberish? What do you mean?”

  “Total nonsense talk about immortality, nobility of heaven and that he has to be rubbed with honey or something.”

  Sam gives me an odd look. Then he turns back to his friend and gives him a good shake. “Sebastos!”

  In horror, I see how Bastian lies there lifelessly, and instinctively I reach for my phone and start punching the buttons.

  “Put that phone away, Laurel,” Sam says calmly.

  “Don’t you want me to call for help?”

  “No! No,” he says more quiet. “I can help him myself.”

  “Sampson…” Bastian croaks.

  I blow out my breath, which I’ve held for too long.

  “Hey, buddy. Couldn’t resist the temptation, could you?”

  “Angry?”

  “Let’s get you fixed first.” Sam lifts Bastian out of the car and walks to the house with the stumbling guy.

  “Sampson?” Bastian says in a sloshy voice.

  “Hmm?”

  “I didn’t let her touch me,” he says out of breath. “Honestly, you have to believe me.”

  “All right, buddy. I believe you.”

  “Sampson?”

  “What now?”

  “Laurel is cool. Trying to save my sorry ass.”

  I’m right behind the guys, and for just a short moment—I could be mistaken—I see Sam lifting a corner of his mouth.

  “I need nectar, man. It’s fucking bad this time.”

  Sam stiffens instantly. He looks my way and I shrug my shoulders.

  “That’s what he keeps saying.”

  “We will get that alcohol out of your system, Bastian,” Sam says. “Now be quiet.”

  “Will you leave us alone now,” Sam says when we enter a small room with a bed.

  “Yes, of course,” I say. I wasn’t planning on staying anyway.

  “Laurel?”

  I linger on the threshold.

  “Don’t go home yet.”

  I hesitate briefly, but then look into his troubled eyes. The dominance I saw earlier has disappeared. “Let me know if I can help with anything. I’ll be waiting outside.”

  I sink into one of the deck chairs and listen to the gagging sounds coming out of the house. I kick off my tight boots, curl my feet beneath me and lay my weary head against the wooden back. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing and the sound of rustling leaves in the quiet wind. I don’t have any reason to be here, Sam has just made that clear. Once again. And Bastian’s words about him and Philene… A marriage. Finally I have an answer to all of my questions.

  Suddenly I am running through the forest. It’s dark and gloomy and I want to hide, but I keep running as fast as I can. I know he’s tracking me, catching up on me. Maybe I can stay ahead, as long as I’m fast enough. I trip over a thick branch and land with my back slamming against the mossy ground. A paw presses on my heaving chest and massive claws scratch at my skin. I stare at the gleaming teeth, the huge fangs, and then he starts foaming at the mouth. He reaches for my arm, and my cry echoes through the forest.

  My eyes fly open and I rub the throbbing scar on my arm. I stare up into Sam’s anxious face. Sam? His dog is growling at my feet. Then I remember what I’m doing here. “How is Bastian doing?”

  Sam is staring down at me. “He’ll be fine. I’m actually more worried about you at the moment.”

  “About me?”

  “You were dreaming.”

  “Did I talk in my sleep?” I ask in terror. I know I sometimes do, usually under the influence of pressure or stress.

  “No, you were screaming.”

  “Oh.” My God… I just had a nightmare on Sam’s deck.

  Sam crouches down so we’re on the same level. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I swallow and turn away my head. The lake shimmers in the moonlight and I wonder how many packs of wolves are hidden in the surrounding forest. With a forced smile I look back. “It’s nothing. I thought I heard a wolf.” I look at the animal at my feet. “Must be because of your pet.”

  Sam’s eyes wander off to Storm. Storm puts his large front paws on Sam’s shoulders and starts licking him in the face. Sam gets to his feet and quite edgily pushes his dog away. Storm leaps and with his hind paws on Sam’s chest, he jumps over his shoulder. He immediately turns around, puts his paws at Sam’s back and starts to bite his arm. Sam pushes him away several times, but Storm continues to fool around.

  Astonished, I look at the rough spectacle between Sam and the wild animal that only seconds ago was lying at my feet as gentle as a puppy. Storm may be a wolf dog—and there are several generations between Storm and his wolf ancestors if I have to believe Sam—but it is pretty clear which part is dominant.

  “Okay, pal.” Sam grabs the enormous beast under its belly and runs down the steps of the deck. Storm’s hind paws are dangling and I start laughing.

  “You had your fun,” Sam says and puts the dog down on the little beach. “Now behave!” He speaks to the beast with a low voice. Storm rolls onto his back and exposes his underside. With one leap, Sam is back on the deck, while Storm stays behind on the beach whimpering. I know exactly how he must feel.

  “Sometimes he tends to forget he’s second-in-command,’ Sam explains.

  “No way,” I say, still laughing, and start putting on my boots. Then I push myself out of the chair. Sam is leaning back against the railing. He has put on a T-shirt by now and my eyes wander off to his left arm covered with black ink. Sam has a tattoo? I’m pretty sure he didn’t have one before. For a moment I doubt my mental ability.

  “Laurel, the things Bastian said… His body responds to alcohol in very extreme ways, hence the gibberish.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Thank you for bringing him to me.”

  “What about
the head injury?”

  “Just a scratch, nothing he won’t recover from. He can bunk here and sober up, I’ll take him home tomorrow.”

  A silence falls over us.

  Sam bites his lower lip and thrusts his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. On his forehead a frown appears. “I’m sorry for my bad behavior earlier. I was under the influence of adrenalin from fight training, but still, there is no excuse to talk to you like that.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m just glad Bastian is okay.”

  “Do you want a drink? Then I’ll take a quick shower.”

  “I’d rather go, Sam. It’s late and I really have to start studying.”

  He nods. “How was the play in the park? Bastian told me about it. Your friend played a part, right, Ava?”

  I smile. “Four young Athenians and their adventures in a forest full of magic. Considering your fascination for the ancient Greek you probably know it.”

  He nods. “Shakespeare. No wonder Bastian was around, he loves that stuff.”

  “I haven’t seen him in the park at all. Why didn’t he just…” Suddenly I understand why Bastian had not been in the park. He wouldn’t be able to drink.

  Sam smiles. “Yeah, he’s quite obstinate when it comes to alcohol. I think he has learned his lesson now. He’s pretty upset.”

  “He already mentioned in the car that it was probably going to be the last time.”

  “Wise decision. So, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, then. You like the theater?”

  “Sam, we can sit and talk about Shakespeare all night, but it’s clear that you don’t want me here.”

  With a tilted head, he looks at me. “Is that right?”

  My stomach hurts. “What are you doing?” My voice is barely more than a whisper.

  Sam’s face is full of doubt. As if the answer should come from me. “I don’t know,” he whispers back.

  All kinds of sentences bounce through my head—Sam is not available. I want you to stay away from me as far as possible. Too bad Sam can’t hang out with you. “Bastian said that you and Philene…” That’s all I manage to say, I can only nod understandingly. “I get it.”

  Sam’s chest expands. “Laurel… he’s buzzed.”

  “What are you saying? That it isn’t true?”

  It remains eerily silent.

  I lift my chin and somehow I’m able to not fall apart right before his eyes. “Go take care of your friend, Sam.”

  Without looking back I descend the steps and although Sam can stop me with one leap over the railing, he doesn’t.

  16

  laurel

  I stare at the ceiling. I don’t have to check my alarm to know that it’s way past midnight; I haven’t slept a wink yet. I should be studying for final exams, but I just can’t pull myself together to do so. I haven’t laid eyes on one single book yet. If anyone asked me which exam I have first, I honestly wouldn’t know. I seem able to think about one thing, and one thing only—Sam’s marriage. The images in my head of Sam and Philene exchanging wedding vows are making me sick to my stomach.

  With a sigh, I step out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom.

  I catch my own reflection in the mirror and see a pale young woman with dark circles under her eyes. An almost eighteen-year-old girl who will most certainly fail her final exams unless she is able to get a grip.

  “Pull yourself together, dammit!” I tell myself angrily.

  In the mirror, I notice the medicine cabinet on the wall behind me, and before even realizing what I’m doing, I search the shelves for… I have no idea—an herbal sedative like valerian? Anything to get me through my insomnia. I move some boxes and jars, but don’t find anything. Disappointed, I go to shut the cabinet, when my eye catches a plastic bottle. I turn it around and examine the label. It’s a prescription for Renee. Tranquillizers. Why is Renee taking tranquillizers? I check the date and see that they are from last year—the year she had her horse riding accident. The year when Don wanted nothing more to do with her.

  I grab the bottle from the shelf and unscrew the cap. There are still a couple left. I take out one of the pills and drink some water straight from the tap. The pill slides down my throat.

  “Just so I can get through finals,” I tell myself.

  Chewing on my pen, I stare ahead of me. I am at the back of the gym, while Sam is somewhere in the middle. Circumstances are forcing me to spend ninety minutes in the same room with him. It doesn’t bother me and in order to test myself, I study his laid-back posture. Of course he isn’t suffering from test anxiety. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed, and he’s tapping his sneakers. In his head, he is probably thinking of music—or his wedding song. Who knows? He is writing with his right hand, but then I see his left hand taking over. I laugh scornfully. So, Sam is ambidextrous, just like Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and Einstein. Good for him, it seems to me more like a disability than an advantage. I amaze myself with how calmly I am reacting to him. I was even able to pull an all-nighter, studying with full focus.

  Coolly, I focus on the questions when Sam is looking at me. It’s a big relief that my emotions are no longer in charge, and that I no longer succumb to his powerful gaze. I have become immune to Sam Laurens!

  It strikes me that not only Sam, but also Bastian, Don, and Andreas, finish in no time—while everyone else is still toiling over the tricky questions—and have closed their papers, but they are not allowed to leave the room. I chuckle. Just like the rest of us peons, aristocrats have to serve the full ninety minutes. I tap my pen against my lower lip and wonder if aristocracy equals intelligence. Suddenly, I find them all arrogant and decide not to waste any more time on them. They’re condescending, so full of themselves and their fantastic bodies and the music they make. How could I ever have been so blind?

  Friday afternoon, after an extremely tough math exam, I step into the restaurant.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hi honey,” Martin says. “How did math go?”

  “Hard to say. Almost every question was tricky. Some were even crying.”

  “Ah, that’s tough. But knowing you, I’m sure you did okay. You seem very relaxed.”

  “I believe I am,” I say with a bright smile.

  “Are you taking the rest of the afternoon off?”

  “I don’t have any finals on Monday. So, yeah, I’m done for the day.”

  “Then why don’t you find a seat somewhere in the restaurant, it’s quiet anyway. I’ll make you lunch. I want to try something new.”

  “I’d like that.” Carrying a cup of coffee, I walk into the restaurant and sit at the bar so I don’t have to look at the table I once shared with Sam. I think I’ve tested myself enough for one day.

  While waiting for my lunch, I muse about my future. What will I do if I pass my finals? I still don’t have a clue and Martin is getting impatient. I am distracted by someone outside and immediately freeze up when I see Adrian strolling through the door.

  “Hello, Laurel,” he says, as he closes in on me.

  “Adrian, hi,” I gasp.

  Adrian points at the barstool next to me. “May I?”

  “Ehm, yeah, go ahead.”

  Adrian pushes the stool back and sits down. “I came here to see you, but I didn’t expect to actually find you.”

  “You… you came here to see me?”

  “I came to see about that drink you promised me. How are you doing?” he asks amicably.

  “Busy studying. Finals.”

  “Are you doing okay?”

  “I think so.”

  I let my gaze slide over the guy next to me. I still don’t know whether I find him attractive or not. He is definitely different. His inky black, fathomless eyes remain very gloomy, whichever way I look at them. On the other hand, if I am going to be critical about every eye color, o
r glance for that matter, I’m in for hard times. None will compare to Sam’s. And besides, Sam’s can look pretty dark from time to time as well. It’s probably in their DNA. And then I have an idea.

  “Tell me, what would you like to drink?”

  Adrian looks at my coffee. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  “Coming right up,” I say and walk to the kitchen.

  “Dad, someone I know came into the restaurant. Would you mind making a little extra?”

  “No problem.”

  I return with the coffee. “There’s food coming too.”

  Adrian lifts one brow. “Sounds great.”

  I take a sip of my coffee and decide to be blunt. “Are you related?” I ask.

  “Sorry?”

  “Are you related to Sam, Olivia, and the others?”

  “The others?”

  “I was invited to Olivia and Sam’s birthday and I saw your friend there, Bow.”

  Adrian looks surprised. “You were invited to their birthday?”

  “Hm-hm.”

  A wrinkle appears on his forehead. “Yeah, we’re all one big happy family. Cousins, second cousins, you name it.”

  “Wow, that’s an impressive family tree.”

  “You could say that.”

  “I thought they were nice.”

  “Some of them are, yeah.”

  “Greek, right?”

  Adrian picks up the spoon and begins to stir his coffee. “Our roots are originally Greek, yes. You seem to know quite a lot about my family.”

  “I picked up on a few things. So you go way back in time then?” I’m on thin ice here, but I am determined to find out what the secret is surrounding this family.

  He carefully puts down the spoon and stares at me intensely. “Why are you so interested in my family?”

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Adrian smiles. “Yeah, we go way back. But tell me about your family. I bet it’s much more interesting to talk about.”