by Lexi Ostrow
You miss her. The thought slammed into him. He couldn’t miss people. He shouldn’t.
Dropping onto the couch, he turned the TV on, desperate to find anything to distract from Hayley and to wait out Marie’s little icy temper tantrum.
2
Sean’s eyes lingered on Stacey’s picture. He could scarcely remember the sound of her voice, the tone of her laughter or even the smell of her perfume—but he would always remember what she looked like. From her wheat-colored hair to her grass green eyes, she’d captivated him from the moment they’d met. Stacey had been a soldier through and through. She’d worked out until every muscle on her body was primed to perfection, and every hair or fiber of mascara had always been perfectly in place. She’d somehow managed to maintain an effortless femininity despite a uniform that hid every curve and a career that made most men unstable.
“I miss you,” he murmured, resisting the urge to stroke his thumb over the photograph.
Days would often go by where he didn’t think of her or of what he’d lost. When he’d first realized he’s stopped thinking about her, he’d felt like a dick. For an entire week, he’d carried around her fucking wedding ring in his pocket as if it could make up for slowly moving on. In time, he’d realized his mind had moved on in order to heal. That he was forgetting the small things, but that he would never forget her.
“Then why the fuck have you done nothing but stare at that blasted picture since that prick showed back up?” Snarling, he turned away from the photo.
It had been just over two months since he’d been approached, and yet, there had been no indication of the plan moving forward. How bad off could this Marie chick be if she wasn’t in a hurry to meet him? His feelings—not fucking much. It had begun to eat away at him like small termites slowly desiccating the foundation of even the grandest home. He’d been hesitant to try out the theory of Guardians moving on together, but he’d been prepared for it. With every day that had ticked by without so much as a flash of that irritating man, he’d begun to wonder if someone else had been picked or if maybe Marie had killed herself.
He hated thinking that the last idea was an option, but he’d been damn close to suicide, and no one had murdered his Word Speaker. He’d lost her to her career and a single mistake that had devastated five families. The more time passed, the more he’d found himself thinking about Marie. About what she would be like when they finally met and how painful it would be.
Being stuck in a world that was not his own had taken months to cope with. Only his seamless ability to blend in and the friends he’d made from his years with Stacey had made it easier. He was fortunate to have been written as something common—albeit many of his brothers in arms would disagree there was anything common about his strength and skill. Stacey had always joked that he was the perfect man on steroids because that’s what women wanted out of romance heroes, especially the military kind.
She hadn’t been wrong. While she’d been alive and countless times since her death, he’d been practically mauled when he hit The Strip to detox. Even out in the blistering Iraq desert, women who had known Stacey hadn’t had much of an issue thinking they could seduce him. As if her death had given them a pass.
All had tried, and all had failed. What he’d wanted after Stacey’s death was to move on and find something to do with himself. He’d not been looking for a partner, a fuck buddy or even wife. His hand wasn’t the most appealing sexual partner, but it got the job done and didn’t leave any women lying in his bed the next morning.
“Then why are you actually anxious over this matchup that isn’t even happening?”
Of course, there was no answer. No sound from the replaced TV, no pet to sit on his lap and cuddle and certainly no roommate to talk to. He’d gone to therapy after Stacey had died and had fucking hated it. Presently, he wished there was someone he could work it out with.
“Well, you’re good at being alone. Think about it. You didn’t want to be in this war. You do have a hero complex . . . or so you’ve heard a shit ton of times. Maybe you just want to help this woman and give her back her life, her freedom.” He nodded and grew quiet as another idea formed.
Marie was his salvation. Not in a romantic way, but he would bet his left nut she was just as broken emotionally as he was. Meeting a Guardian who had lost it all was likely going to be like finding the best damn roommate he hadn’t known he wanted. They’d have something in common, something he didn’t share with a single other soul he knew. He wouldn’t be so much of a freak, and she wouldn’t be looking for anything more than a way to heal herself.
“If she even knows she’s fucked up to begin with.” He’d known the brother in charge for about five years, and the man liked to play games.
Tired of thinking about anything, he reached out and turned the photo of Stacey around so he couldn’t see his deceased wife any longer. He did that sometimes when the pain became too much, and he had a damn good feeling he was going to hit that point any moment if he kept focusing on how much of a damned outcast he actually was.
Pushing off the bed, he headed to the kitchen. It was half past beer time, and he needed the small buzz to help him stop thinking about Stacey, anyway. He’d never drank before she died, and then he’d almost drunk himself into the grave. One drink a day wasn’t going to kill him.
Isn’t the most helpful either, he mused.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he reached in and grabbed it out. The notification bar was still showing, and the text was from his favorite person—one he didn’t even know owned a cell phone.
The time is coming. Be ready.
The warm breeze of a desert fall sweeping across her forehead was the first thing Marie felt. She shivered from the brush of warmth in the one spot the ice had begun to melt. It had been two months since she’d felt anything at all, and while she hadn’t known what to expect, she hadn’t been expecting it to involve temperature.
Her eyes opened, vision muddled and distorted from the blue-tinted ice still surrounding most of her body. Slowly, she focused on regaining control over her muscles. Remembering what it felt like to move an arm or a hand was strange but necessary. Moments later, her palm unclenched, shooting tiny fissure cracks through the ice that echoed in her ears. A second later, she was able to twitch her knee ever so slightly.
For minutes, she continued to work at it, slowly moving what body parts she could to release her from the self-inflicted prison. The blistering heat of a Vegas fall was unsettling compared to the ice but not nearly as annoying as she would have found it months prior. If she’d been able to focus on anything save for casting off the ice, she might have realized something that small was the first indication she’d succeeded.
Her mind was focused on only her escape. A slow melting of the ice was often utilized while in her book world, but in an arid climate, she would likely find herself starved and dehydrated before the process could finish. Ice was ice, but hers was infused with magic that had kept it intact while her mind had healed.
The onslaught of bright light and the rapid swarm of heat almost knocked her onto her ass as the ice finally exploded into thousands of shiny, melting shards. Squinting at a strange shape in the distance, she forced her center of balance to right itself.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She shouted the words, deliberately making them audible to the man a few hundred yards away that clearly wasn’t a mirage.
In a flash, he was in front of her, trench coat seeming utterly outlandish in the fall temperature. His silver eyes were calm, no sense of the anger that had stirred within them when last they’d spoken. In fact, he seemed almost pleased to see her. Which couldn’t mean anything enjoyable for her. The idea should have sent a flicker of anger, or even annoyance, through her. It didn’t.
It worked. A smile slid across her lips. The ceremony of her people had continued to work, despite her being more than just a written character on a page. Closing her eyes, she chose to ignore the man for a few
more moments. She had to be certain.
An image of Zach formed in her mind, a crystal clear picture she almost wanted to touch. Black, shaggy hair fell down to his shoulders and covered his dark coffee-colored eyes. His larger-than-life smile lit up his face. His eyes were tilted upwards with laughter, the way she wanted to remember him. However, while the picture was sheer perfection, she felt nothing. No overwhelming sense of remorse, no flicker of joy at seeing him. Everything was off. And everything would remain off until she wished it otherwise.
Content, she opened her eyes. The man hadn’t moved, and his expression hadn’t shifted. If he was irritated by her brush off, he was as iced-over at showing it as she would have been at feeling it.
“How did you even fucking know?”
He gave her the tiny smirk she’d wanted to slap off his face more than once. There was something in the way it changed his face that made her dislike it. The expression was cocky, almost condescending.
“I know everything.” He took a step back and shielded his eyes. “Mind if we turn sideways? The sun is a bitch out here, even in fall.” He didn’t wait for an answer, simply shifted his stance and lowered his hand. He didn’t even wait to see if she would comply. “As I was saying, I watch my team. The minute you slipped off into your ceremony, I left a window open.”
“So you were spying?” No anger, just a question.
“I was protecting you. While, in your world, people might revere or possibly fear your kind and what a lack of emotions would do to you, people of this world would think you were a science experiment. With or without a Word Speaker, I protect those who are a part of my fighting force.”
She nodded, not finding any fault with his logic but not feeling any gratitude either. “Then, as you can see, I have emerged in a rather flawless condition. None assaulted me, or they were unsuccessful if they tried and you stopped them. I am ready to go about my life without Zach.”
Where once his name would have sent a debilitating hurt through her, it was as uninteresting as if she’d said potato. Her past was not gone, but her connection to it was severed as cleanly as if it had been surgically removed.
“Can you go about your life without basic emotions? Do you not think people would find it rude when you lack the compassion to work at your job?”
She shrugged. “I don’t lack compassion. I lack emotion.” Even as she said it, there was a small inkling that her logic was off.
“Then tell me. What would you do if a dog was on the list at another shelter?”
“I would leave it there. The dogs at my shelter are my only concern.” She raised a hand to her mouth, not in shock or distress, just in understanding. “Everything is gone.”
He nodded. “I tried to warn you of such foolishness before you did what you did. In your world, where your people must fight to live, there is nothing wrong with being closed off. In this world, in your career and your new life, you cannot be a robot.”
She wanted to be angry at herself or even irritated at him for bringing it up, but she couldn’t be. The ice that had melded with her on a mental level wouldn’t allow it.
“As with everything in life, there are loopholes. If you are interested, I can help you undo the frost surrounding your heart.”
“No!” she blurted.
He scowled for the first time since he’d forced his way into her reawakening. “It is a shame. I was not asking or offering. My words were merely a pleasantry.” He did nothing next, just stood still.
Which was apparently all he needed to do. Anger burst inside of her with all the force of cannon fire. Heat flared to life in every cell of her body—a red-hot ire so much stronger than anything she’d ever felt. Her` vision faltered as the fury sizzled, and she would have fallen had the infuriating man next to her not caught her.
“What did you do to me?” Her voice was a strangled cry of rage as everything she’d suppressed seemed to slam back into her.
“I’ve given you back what you need to succeed.”
Ice flew from her fingertips, spikes all penetrating various parts of the man chest. His howl of outrage was satisfying. Perhaps one useful emotion had come out of his interference. He pulled at them, sending them smashing into the ground. As she began to get her balance back, she could feel the flurries of hail chunks swirling around her. Ordinarily, she would have controlled herself, but she didn’t give a shit at the moment.
“You had no right!” she hissed.
“I had every right. You only exist, only have a consciousness, because I allowed a connection to form.”
His eyes flashed vibrant silver, similar to a chrome painted car, and she flinched—blinded by it.
“You took what I deserve! You took my peace.”
“If you would calm down for a second, you would realize I did not give you everything back. Your heart, my dear, is still frozen solid where love and human connections are concerned. Even if I had wanted to destroy that, you and I both know that is where the ice took root and only you can cause it to melt and set you free.”
She let the small chunks of ice fly at him, mercilessly pelting into him. “You shouldn’t have been able to take any of it.”
“Those emotions were only stifled because of your time in the ice. Little by little, they would have come back, and you know it.”
The amount of knowledge he had on her stopped her in her tracks. The ice vanished and even some of her anger dissipated. “How do you know that?”
“I know everything about my warriors.” He took a step closer, allowing her to see the bloody marks and bruising from the ice shards. “I have read every story that has ever produced a Guardian. I have watched every pairing from the painful beginning to the peak of its completion when a Guardian is released. Nothing is unnoticed. Nothing is left unchecked.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I couldn’t care less. In fact, I’m growing tiresome of this entire encounter. I came to you for a reason. Your services are needed. I allowed you to mend yourself as your people see fit. Now, you will get back to work.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“You exist because of me,” he growled dangerously low like an animal about to attack. “All of you seem to think I am the evil one, and I don’t have your best interests at heart.” His eyes flashed again. “The moment that happens, you will all know, and you will all see how truly treacherous that will be.”
He’d never frightened her before.
He just had.
A part of her longed to go back to her world, to be nothing more than she’d been before and to never think about the gift she was given and the one she had stolen. Yet, Marie knew she wouldn’t be anything once she returned, and as much as she’d wanted to forget, she didn’t want to cease to be.
“What do you need me to do?”
“I’m sorry that was whispered far too quietly. Perhaps had you not assaulted me and launched a fucking ice rock at my ear, I’d be able to hear that meek whisper.”
“What do you want me to do?” The words were hardly louder through her clenched jaw.
“I want to help you heal. In doing so, you’ll help other Guardians and me.”
“Didn’t you just do that?”
“No. I returned emotions to you that had no business being locked away. I cannot heal your heart. There’s nothing I can do to help you realize that loss is tragic, but life continues.”
“What if I do not want to learn it?”
“You don’t have that option. I can put you back this moment if I choose. I’d rather have you live the life Zach offered you with your release.” His face softened slightly, and his voice lowered considerably, losing the biting edge. “There are others like you. Guardians who had their Word Speakers taken from them too soon.”
“So you’ve mentioned.” Sympathy blossomed like ink from a calligraphy pen when it touched paper, but it was not soul deep.
“I understand that, along with losing a Word Speaker, a lover, a partner, you’ve lost your
place. You are not from this world, and you can never truly forget who and what you are. Without a Word Speaker, you are alone. No one else knows your past or your struggles. In that, all solo Guardians have the same fight. To go on. I believe you can help one another heal.”
“I’m listening, but only because you are correct. I’d enjoy not being a one of a kind freak.”
“My theory is that, if you are together, Guardians like you can find a kinship that you’ve lost. And I think kinship will allow you to not only heal but to take your rightful place in this war and protect any who fight by your side.”
“I have no intention of finding someone to care for like Zach. Thanks but no thanks. I’ll stay right where I’m at and spend my life taking care of the dogs at the shelter.”
He stepped in front of her as she tried to push past. “I did not say you had to fall in love with the Guardian or that this would be a man.”
She stopped, mouth gaping open at her foolishness.
“If you can unfreeze that heart of yours to love, fantastic. If not, it’s not my problem. I just need you to be the asset you agreed to be when released.”
“Fine. I’ll meet her.”
The smirk came back. “Oh, it’s not a her.”
She snarled low and threw up her hands in annoyance. “You know everything feels a thousand times more powerful for the first few experiences after locking an emotion away?”
He shrugged. “Must have skipped that part when reading your story. Sean Bender is waiting for you.”
The name was vaguely familiar. She searched her memories, trying to recall just why she’d heard it. “He was in the news a few years back, when I first met Zach.”
“Correct. He lost his Word Speaker differently than you, but he tried to heal in much the same fashion. He threw himself into what he was before his release. A military man.”
She hated to admit it, but there was some comfort in knowing another warrior had found solace in who and what they’d been written to be. “And all I need to do is be friends with him? We can be each other’s personal therapists?”