Darker Side of Worlds (Guardians Book 2) (The Guardians Series)

by Lexi Ostrow

  He rubbed the backs of his fingers hard into his eye sockets to try to stop the tears before turning and shutting off the now cold water. His body hurt. His head hurt, and his heart hurt. He’d done so much worse than embracing a little bit of the darkness. He’d killed and attacked. Dale couldn’t feel his soul blackening. There was nothing so profound as a chunk of ice rushing through him or a desire to slaughter and maim people simply for being in his building. However, he could feel the need in the back of his head to siphon the energy coming from all around him.

  His birthday was in a little over a week. He knew there was no turning back a clock or switching sides. He had to find a way to control the power and cut himself off from Breena. His death would be a sacrifice in the war, no one would know, and no one would miss him. Only he would know that he would be saving one brother’s stake in the war.

  “I suggest you find your path, Dale. If not, I will not hesitate to do to you what needs to be done.”

  The words came from the door to the bathroom, and Dale threw open the foggy glass shower door. He’d sworn he’d heard the voice of the brother that wore the beat up looking trench coat—the brother he was supposed to be fighting for—but there was no one there.

  Dale growled, and a bolt of lightning shot off his fingers at the mirror. Nothing happened, of course, nothing ever would until his birthday, and at that stage, he was going to be dead without a Guardian.

  The blue towel jerked off the rack as he pulled at it and scrubbed hard over his skin as if the harder he scrubbed the more he could peel his actions out of his body. “Maybe he wasn’t here at all? They do that shit all the time, and why wouldn’t he show up now, when he probably knows he’s lost me?”

  Dale half expected the man to show up, that he would have been listening in, but he didn’t. Nothing moved in his condo. There were no sounds except his own deep breaths, but the words he thought he heard a moment before were echoing on a loop.

  “I need to see Ciara. She can help me. She has to be able too.” A part of him knew it was foolish, that she was younger, had less experience and couldn’t read into his soul in anyway.

  However, he wanted to go to her. He’d wanted to since the day he’d found out she was pronounced dead, the cover to allow her to disappear forever into a book. He’d been afraid too, and now he was afraid not too. Dale felt the energy he’d stolen slowly begin to leak out as he pulled on a dark polo and gray sweats. It was the exact outfit he’d been wearing when Ciara had scared the shit out of him a few months before, and somehow he felt like, if he didn’t wear it, she might not believe it was him.

  He’d changed quite a bit. His glasses for one, were a thick black rim instead a tiny wire one—he’d embraced the nerdy look because Nessa had loved it. His frame had filled out as well. He’d never been scrawny, but all the workouts and supplement’s he’d taken when he realized how much bigger he needed to be to protect Nessa from what could come at them, had worked. He was still slender, but his muscles were visible under his clothes. His hair was shaggy and down to his ears as well. The whole idea that she wouldn’t recognize him was as moronic as thinking she could help him.

  Maybe she could. He’d helped her when she’d needed a friend, and he was crossing everything he could that she’d be able to repay the favor. He wasn’t certain if he’d be able to simply open the doorway to the Horseman’s world after having read a different for the past few weeks. But, as he focused on the utterly run down demon bar in downtown New Orleans, the tiny pocket of space in front of him swirled and distorted until he was staring into how he envisioned the bar looked.

  It was shoddy and run down, debris from an attack he’d been told about still littered the floor in certain dark corners. Low hanging florescent lights barely lit the place enough to see more than a few inches of front and behind, or at least Dale thought it would be like that. The bar had a wooden top, and Dale could faintly see things scratched into it from patrons.

  The most remarkable of all though was how utterly normal it looked. He moved his eyes through every person he could see, and not one appeared to be more than human. That was the thing with demons, they could be whatever they wanted with an illusion placed over the bar, and if they were like Horsemen, some were always human looking.

  “It’s now or never, Dale.”

  Step by step, he walked to the doorway. Fear gripped him harder than it ever had, even with Leather Jacket’s daily visits. There had been something comforting in knowing he hadn’t been likely to kill Dale. Demons, however, wouldn’t hesitate.

  The smell of cigars and booze nearly choked him as he stepped inside the back left corner. He hadn’t been able to hear the noise from the doorway, but now, through it, the god awful jazz music made him want to stick his fingers in his ears. Closing his mind to the possibility of his own world, he watched as the doorway closed. He didn’t need anyone hitching a ride through it—drunks were never very mindful of where they stepped.

  No one watched him as he cautiously walked up to the bar. No one paid him any mind at all until the flash of light from a ball of fire whizzed through the air and slammed into the wall behind the bar. Then, all eyes were on him.

  “I need to see the Horsemen, and I need them now.” there was no trace of the terror he was feeling in his voice, and he thanked his lucky stars for that.

  A hand was around his neck in a second flat. “Who’s asking for the brothers? And what are you?”

  A man was leaning into his nose, and the stench of whiskey rolled into Dale’s face. He pictured the fire breaking out over his skin, and the man snarled as the slight heat touched him. But he didn’t remove his hand, and Dale could slowly feel it as he squeezed a little tighter.

  “A fire demon then? Good thing I’m one as well.” The man, the demon, snickered.

  Dale immediately felt the burn around his neck and tried to yelp, but no sound come out.

  “Let him go,” the voice didn’t boom across the bar, rather it sounded oddly as if it came from directly behind Dale.

  Everything in the seedy bar halted. Noise stopped, the jazz band stopped playing and, from the people he could see around him, not one moved to take a drink. As soon as the fired hand dropped from around his neck, Dale reached out with Nessa’s powers and pulled the ice from the bucket under the sink to his neck. The cold almost hurt against the burn, but he ignored it in light of turning to see who had saved him.

  Dark black hair and piercing blue eyes shined at him, and Dale knew that if he hadn’t known the demon personally, he would have shit himself looking at him. He couldn’t imagine anyone being foolish enough to stand up to just one of these boys, let alone that there was a group that tried to take all four down at once.

  “Stryder,” Dale said as nonchalantly as he could manage while quickly skirting over to the large demon’s side.

  Stryder nodded back at him and crossed his arms over his chest. “This one is of no concern to you lot. He came looking for a Horseman, and he found one. Carry on with your business. He doesn’t know the rules of the bar, and any who want to punish him for his accidental display of powers is more than happy to do so on me.”

  A rapid chorus of “no’s” and “don’t worry about it’s” floated through the bar, and when Stryder looked at Dale, he was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Damn, am I glad you’re on my side, Horseman. Because you’re one scary motherfucker when you do that.”

  Stryder laughed and clapped a hand on Dale’s shoulder so hard he almost buckled under the force of it. “Trust me, Ciara would likely string me up by my toes and tickle me to death if I so much as scowl at you.”

  It was Dale’s turn to laugh. Already being there just a few minutes had lightened the darkness he’d been feeling. The energy had fizzled out with the ball of fire, and he was grateful for small favors. However, being there wasn’t really the answer, or at least he didn’t think it was. Ciara had been adamant about not running from their problems when they’d talked about things one
day, which meant she was likely to kick him out of her world to make him do what was right.

  “I, um, is there a way to get to see her?”

  Stryder raised a brow and a slight bit of the Horsemen flickered in his eyes as they flashed from blue to black and then back to the piercing blue.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Dale swallowed hard. Stryder could tear him limb from limb just for him suggesting he was using the powers wrong. Or he might not give a shit, since it was only because of Dale that Ciara had been able to be there with him, and he didn’t have to leave his brothers.

  “Nessa’s gone. I’m in transition, and I was told a handy little detail that, without a Guardian when I turn twenty-seven, I bite the dust. And, while not too many people would mind, I’ve barely gotten to spend all the money I made or play with half the games I’ve helped code. I’m not exactly thrilled by that premise.”

  The look on Stryder’s face made it look as if he was whistling, but Dale couldn’t hear it because the bar had grown loud again.

  “Shit.”

  “I could think of about a hundred other responses, but, yes, that about sums it up. I need to talk to her about something, well about my Guardian really. I’m not so certain she’s the best match, and, well, we both know Ciara had her doubts about you.”

  Stryder growled, and that, Dale definitely heard.

  He lifted his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Simply that this is something only your mate and I can have in common, and considering I had the ability to speak to her, I took it.”

  Stryder shook his head. “Grab onto my wrist. Don’t fucking touch my damn hand.” He uncrossed his arms and barely put his arm toward Dale.

  Dale reached out and gripped the Horseman’s wrist hard, knowing exactly what was coming next. He was shocked when he didn’t immediately want to puke as he landed knees first into the grass. Dale hadn’t known what it was going to feel like, and he was fucking elated it was nothing bad.

  He looked up and gave an impressed whistle as the almost palace looking mansion in front of him. “You Horsemen sure know how to live in style.”

  Stryder laughed and shrugged. “You live for thousands of years, and you’ll have more money than you know what to do with.”

  “If only.”

  Dale laughed and Stryder did too.

  “I’m fairly certain I don’t want to be involved in girl chat time. I’ll go get her. You’re welcome to go anywhere on the property, but so help me, if those Initiative men can track you and then come here I’m not going to hesitate to throw you in the air. You’ll have to pray you can open a doorway quick enough.”

  The playfulness was gone from his tone and Dale couldn’t blame him. “Understood.”

  Stryder smiled and walked toward his front door, leaving Dale standing in the yard. He turned and saw the strangest tree, about fifty yards from him, and burst into laughter. Ciara had told him she’d half killed a tree when she was learning the fire power, he’d bet he just found the poor thing.

  “Dale! Dale!” Ciara shouted at him from the few hundred yards between them..

  She looked happier than he had ever seen her before. She’d cut almost all of her long hair off and the short cut seemed to bring out how striking her face was. Her eyes were just as eerily blue as her mate’s, and her smile was bright and welcoming. He’d seen her often for a few months, and every time, no matter how broken down she was, she’d always seemed to have the light of the world shining out of her. Nothing had changed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  This is the reason why you’re fighting Breena so hard, he thought to himself. Because someone like this believes in you.

  He blew out a breath as she slammed into him with a hug so hard they both stumbled backward a bit. Then he felt her hand stinging across his face a second later, and he saw her pull back and glare at him.

  “What the fuck was that for?”

  “Do you have any idea of why I gave you my powers, you asshat?”

  He swallowed, this was a trick question, and he knew it. “To allow you to be with your mate and not jeopardize your powers being lost forever?”

  She glared at him. “Sometimes your brand of snark is as irritating as Stryder’s and Jameson’s. I also did it because, at some point, I expected to see you again. You probably don’t realize this, but time flows differently inside a book world, and it’s been ages.”

  He sighed, he knew he should have gone prior. “I’m not even the slightest bit upset that you just compared me to two of the biggest badasses I’ve known, and I don’t even know Jameson…or Stryder really. That’s kind of why I’m here though. Nessa wasn’t strong enough after the power transfer, she’s gone.”

  The words hurt so much less to say than they had a few weeks before. He could hardly picture her delicate face or blonde curls anymore. When he thought of his Guardian, Breena’s stunning hazel eyes and dyed hair came into view. He honestly liked it that way, which was a problem.

  “Oh, Dale, I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”

  “I have a new Guardian.”

  “What? Oh, I mean, good. How? How can you be here and have another Guardian?”

  “Leather Jacket bent the rules.”

  Ciara leapt backward from him as if he’d suddenly began to spew acid. Her reaction stung more than she could have known. The hatred that burned in her eyes wasn’t for Dale, but it was certainly directed at him.

  “How could you have accepted his help? After everything we went through to ensure your path in the war?”

  Dale felt power rippling under his skin as she screamed at him. Controlling it felt damned impossible. A bolt came shooting from his hands and slammed into the ground. He watched as Ciara looked at it and then back at him.

  “You’re already on his side again, aren’t you? That’s what you fucking came here to tell me, isn’t it?”

  All the light, goodness and happiness had drained from her. The anger radiating at him could rival the fear Stryder had put into the men and women at the bar a few minutes prior.

  “Do you think for one minute you could shut up and let me tell you what I’m fucking doing here? Don’t you think you could have a little bit more faith in me? Or did you only believe in me because it meant you got to run away from the war and live a fucking happily ever after?”

  She reeled back as if he’d hit her, and Stryder’s form appeared in the doorway.

  “Go to Hell, Horseman, she’s perfectly fine.”

  “He’s right, I’m fine,” Ciara said without looking back at him.

  Stryder only nodded once and closed the front door.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry, Dale.” her voice was soft, but most of the anger still played across her face.

  “I came to talk to you because I learned something from our friendly brothers. Without a Guardian to release or a side to choose, when you turn twenty-seven, you die. Leather Jacket might have been the one to tell me it but when I was screaming at…. Jesus I hate not having a name for them. The one in the trench coat, oh fuck it, I’m calling him Trench Coat too. He didn’t come and dispute it. It’s real Ciara, and I’m running out of time.”

  “So you accepted a Guardian from Leather Jacket? How was he able to handpick one?” her voice was skeptical, but completely calm, deflated after his rant.

  “He handed me books. I knew there would be a catch, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t ready to die. I’m still not ready to die.”

  Ciara turned and slowly started to walk away. “Are you coming? There’s a lovely little bench out back, I’m tired of standing.”

  He followed her without question. “My Guardian, Breena, I feel for her what you must have felt for Stryder. This all-consuming need to be with her, despite not actually wanting to be with her.”

  Ciara gave a little laugh as she sat down. “I can’t say I feel sorry for you. The ride is quite worth it. But I’m still not following why you finally decided to pay me a visit.”
>
  Dale looked out over the serenity of the Grecian location. The sun was high in the sky, and the colors seemed so vivid and beautiful. He almost hated to wreck the tranquility once more.

  “She’s dark, Ciara. Breena’s on the wrong side of the war, and after what I’ve done, I don’t see how I can get her to see the error in her ways. After what I’ve just done, I don’t think there’s any hope for me because I still want to be with her.”

  Ciara’s eyes bored into his. He could see the millions of questions forming in her mind. They mirrored the many he had for himself about the insanity of his desire to be with Breena. The one she chose, however, was the perfect one to ask.

  “How many times have you given in to her darkness?”

  Their eyes remained locked as he admitted possibly the only saving grace in the scenario. “Just once.”

  Ciara’s sigh of relief was so big it could have swallowed them both up. “Tell me about her, Dale. Let me understand why you’re willing to play Leather Jacket’s game. Maybe she’s not what she appears. Gods only know Stryder and his brothers weren’t.”

  Dale smiled. “This is why I came to you. This is as sappy as I will ever get, but I missed this. You’re the only friend I’ve ever had, and it sucked having you here and me there.”

  She smiled back and put her hand over his.

  “She’s a sprite in the Unseelie court in her novel. A princess, daughter of the king and his errand girl. The things she does in her book, Ciara, they’re dark. She kills on command, tortures, destroys. There was no indication that she didn’t enjoy it either, but then I saw her do it. In my room, a group of your worst nightmares showed up because I’d been reading your book a few days prior. See I wanted to come.”

  She laughed and shoved him playfully.

  “It was intense. She enjoyed the killing, and then she turned it on me, made me feel like I was the problem for not wanting to kill my enemies.”