Guardian

by Knight, Angela

  “Dammit,” Riane snarled. She drew the two quantum swords she’d tucked into her belt and activated them. Their blades began to chime in menacing unison. “Guess I’ll have to fight my way in there and get his attention.”

  Charlotte nodded. “I’m with you.”

  They broke into a wary jog around the nearest RV and into the clearing. Riane’s belly coiled into a knot. She could see Nick rearing over the heads of a pack of priests. His roar shook the trees. “Sweet Mother Goddess, Nick,” she whispered, awed. “No wonder you’re draining the T’Lir.”

  And what the hell made her think he’d listen to her? Was he even human anymore? His thoughts sure didn’t sound like it.

  But this was Nick—the man who’d held her, made love to her so tenderly, saved her life more times than she could count. If he ended up destroying his mother’s soul while in the grip of some alien delusional state, he’d never get over the guilt. She couldn’t let him do that to himself.

  “Let’s go.” Riane took a deep breath, blew it out, and began to run, Charlotte racing at her heels. Together they sprinted toward Nick and the knot of brawling Xerans. His earsplitting roars made her stomach clench tighter with dread.

  One of the priests saw them coming and bellowed something, pivoting to face them. Riane threw herself at him, her sword chiming a furious note. It clashed with his blade, ringing like a carillon. Another priest’s sword swung toward her face, but Charlotte parried it before it could take off her head. Riane disengaged her blade from the first priest’s, drove her elbow into his faceplate, and ran him through when he staggered. She ducked a wild sword swing, parried yet another blade, and bellowed, “Nick! Nick, dammit!”

  He reared over the crowd, then crashed down on the Victor like a breaking wave. Something black and liquid went flying.

  “You do realize this stunt’s going to get us killed, right?” Charlotte yelled.

  “Yeah, well, nobody’s immortal.” She parried a stabbing thrust at her chest, spotted another blade coming straight down at her face, and shoved forward with all her riaat-powered strength to avoid it.

  Riane broke out into empty space, staggered. Something bright and green loomed in front of her. She looked up. And up. And up.

  Nick/Sela reared over her, glowing green muzzle contorted to reveal fangs the length of her whole hand, his eyes narrow with savagery. Paws bigger than her head cast a blinding light down on her face.

  He was about to come down right on top of her.

  “Nick!” She screamed it, using both her lungs and every erg of power she could draw from the Stone.

  He fell on her like a breaking wave. She was engulfed in light, blinded, deafened by his furious roar . . .

  “Riane, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  She opened her eyes—to her shame, she realized she must have closed them—and found herself surrounded in a cocoon of green. And Nick’s arms, strong and human, were tight around her.

  Mother Goddess, I’m inside the Sela with him.

  The sight of Riane staggering into the middle of the combat circle had damn near stopped Nick’s heart. Especially when the Victor’s cold black eyes had fallen on her with murderous frustration.

  The ice-water shock of adrenaline blasted right through the Sela’s blood frenzy, snapping Nick back to full awareness. Good thing, too. He’d barely managed to drag her into the energy construct in time to save her ass. “The Victor almost disemboweled you, you little twit!” he snapped. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  “Charlotte’s out there!” she yelped, more wild-eyed than he’d ever seen her.

  “She backed off when she saw me grab you. Ran back across the clearing with a priest in pursuit.”

  “Shit.”

  He looked over the crowd to watch his mother whirl on the man and run him through with her sword. He blew out a breath in relief. “Don’t worry, she’s already kacking him. Mom’s tough.”

  “Not that tough. Nick, Vanja said you’re draining the T’Lir. Killing the spirits. You’ve got to break this off now, or they won’t be able to come back.”

  “What?” Nick reached for the energy of the T’Lir—and realized it was fading. He went cold. We’ve got to stop! He punched the thought through to the Guardian’s feral consciousness. They’re growing too weak!

  Nick felt the creature give the Sela equivalent of a shrug. They are willing to die to save my children.

  But I’m not willing to kill them!

  You, it said, are not in charge.

  • 34 •

  “Didn’t you teach me I didn’t have to kill? Yet you’re killing Xerans—and spending the spirits of our people to do it!” Nick snarled.

  “I will not allow my children to become extinct, boy. Yes, when the battle madness lifts, I will bear the pain of what I do. But the living will survive. The dead would be the first to say they’ve had their lives.”

  Despite what the Guardian said, Nick thought he could stop him. He could certainly try. But then what? He’d be at the Victor’s nonexistent mercy with no way to defend himself. And so would Riane. She wouldn’t have a chance. He couldn’t give her up to those bastards.

  And what if the T’Lir fell into the Victor’s hands on his death?

  The Sela would be only the first to die.

  He couldn’t risk it, not even to save his mother’s spirit.

  Besides, it was a risk she wouldn’t want him to take. She’d willingly given up her own life to keep the T’Lir away from the Victor. He couldn’t make that sacrifice meaningless.

  “What the hell’s going on out there?” Riane asked suddenly, jolting Nick out of his preoccupation.

  He saw at once what she meant. The priests were no longer pressing in close to the Guardian, trying to get their blades into his glowing hide. Instead, they’d retreated into a loose and wary ring, leaving the Victor and the Guardian facing off.

  “Look at him, my priests!” the Victor barked, backing away to circle the Guardian, who turned to keep Him in view. “See how the Demon’s glow weakens. Victory is in our grasp—he dies!”

  “Fuck,” Riane snarled.

  Nick’s heart sank as he realized the bastard was right. The Guardian’s construct no longer blazed as bright and solid as it had. Which meant the spirits must be very close to death. And when they were gone . . .

  The Victor coiled into a crouch, a smirk on His face, despite the wounds that marred His own glow. “Watch closely as I finish him, my sons.”

  And He would. Unless . . . Can you draw from me instead? Nick asked the Guardian. Save the spirits?

  It would kill you, boy.

  But could you do it?

  Yes. You might even survive long enough for me to kill that creature. The Guardian’s deep mental voice sounded grim. Very well. Prepare yourself—he attacks.

  Nick curled his arms tighter around Riane’s slender body and braced her as they floated inside the Guardian’s thinning construct.

  The Victor charged, horned head lowered to gore, clawed hands reaching.

  Now, the Guardian said.

  Pain ripped through Nick like a blade of solid ice. Everything in him cringed, but instead of fighting it, he opened his mind, embraced the bitter, spreading numbness. A thick green cord of light flashed into being, feeding into the Guardian’s head, into each clawed arm and leg. The glow of the construct brightened even as Nick grew colder, paler.

  Riane wrapped her arms around him. Warm, fierce, her spirit blazed bright in his mind, beating back the cold of death. “I’m here,” she breathed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Lending you my strength through the T’Lir.” Keeping you alive.

  Distantly he felt a vibrating shock as the Victor hit the Guardian. “You die for nothing,” the Victor hissed in the Guardian’s glowing ear. “Fighting you, drinking the blood of your energy, has told me what I needed to know about creating a Coswold-Barre warp. I don’t need your bauble an
ymore.”

  The Guardian’s lips drew back from his glowing fangs. “You will not live long enough to use what you have learned.” He lunged for the Victor’s throat.

  Gritting his teeth, Nick fed more of himself to the Guardian. The green cord thickened.

  Riane curled her long legs around his waist, her skin like hot silk against his chilling flesh. Her lips kissed the weakening pulse under his ear, and it strengthened. Her hand touched the center of his chest, and his heartbeat’s flagging rhythm steadied.

  “Don’t you dare die,” she breathed. “Don’t leave me alone, Nick Wyatt. I need you.”

  He moaned and found her mouth with his, and she filled his chest with her warm breath. “I love you,” he whispered.

  The Guardian’s jaws clamped onto the Victor’s shoulder. He toppled backward, dragging the startled god with him—into the reach of all four clawed legs.

  The Guardian began to rip at the false god, tearing chest, belly, and groin with those dagger-blade claws. The Victor howled and tried to jerk free, but He couldn’t break the Sela’s grip.

  Great dark rents appeared in his golden glow, spreading, darkening.

  His priests shouted in horror, a babble of confused voices. The Guardian ignored them, still tearing at his writhing captive.

  The Victor shrieked, a high, inhuman sound, and exploded into a rain of oily dropplets. The Guardian roared in displeasure, blinded by the sticky black goo.

  “What the fuck is that?” Riane snapped. “Blood?”

  Nick gasped, unable to answer. His head was spinning, vision darkening. Cold rolled through like a black tide. He dragged Riane desperately close, craving her warmth.

  The Guardian rolled onto all six legs, shaking his head furiously, looking around for his foe. But the Victor was gone. All that was left was the black liquid, which rolled rapidly away toward the priests.

  They scrambled around the clearing, grabbing for it. The liquid climbed their hands, their legs, crawling up onto their bodies to coat their T-suits in an oily sheen.

  The Guardian roared and leaped at the nearest warrior, who yelped and Jumped in a blinding flash of light and a rolling sonic boom.

  The Sela wheeled, but the others were vanishing, too, taking the remnants of their god with them. In moments, the clearing was empty.

  The Guardian roared in victory. The ground shook under his paws the instant before he vanished.

  Riane hit the ground with a bone-jolting thump as the Guardian’s energy construct disappeared from around her and Nick. “What the hell?”

  She sat up, staring around her in dismay. Even the RVs were gone from the clearing. The Sela had apparently made good their escape while everyone’s attention was diverted. “The least they could have done is left us a ride ho—”

  Glancing down at Nick lying next to her, Riane froze. His eyes were closed, dark lashes stark against skin that was more gray than pale. “Nick!” Alarmed, she grabbed for him. Automatically, she glanced at his T’Lir. The armband’s stone was dark, with none of its normal healthy green glow. “Comp, is he alive?”

  “Heartbeat very faint. He is in deep shock. His life signs are fading. He needs immediate medical attention.”

  “And where the hell do you suggest he get it?”

  “Riane!”

  She looked up in relief at the sound of Charlotte’s voice. The woman raced across the clearing toward her. “I thought you’d left!”

  “Vanja said you were going to need me.” She dropped to one knee by Nick’s side. “I’ll have to Jump you back to your Outpost if he’s going to make it.”

  “Well, why in the hell didn’t you do that earlier?”

  “Because the Sela wouldn’t let me, dammit!” she exploded. “Nick and the Guardian had to take a chunk out of the Victor.”

  Meaning they’d known the clash was fated to happen. And they made damn sure it had. “Son of a bitch!”

  “Yeah, for pacifists the Sela are really ruthless.” She grabbed Riane’s shoulder and laid a hand on the center of Nick’s chest.

  They materialized in the center of the infirmary, startling Chogan so badly the woman spilled her cup of stimchai all over the front of her medical robes.

  Luckily, Charlotte’s version of a Jump lacked the usual sonic boom and energy discharge, or it would have damaged a whole lot of delicate medical equipment.

  “Riane!” the doctor gasped, brushing at the liquid. “Where the hell did you—”

  “Never mind!” Riane interrupted desperately. “This man is dying!”

  Chogan took one look at him and forgot her questions. “Techs! Somebody get me a regenerator tube!”

  Watching the tube’s transparent lid seal over her lover’s face as a pink mist flooded the chamber, Riane sighed. And promptly wondered if her relief was premature. This was Sela business after all. Who knew whether mere twenty-third-century medicine would be enough to repair whatever damage the Guardian had done?

  “Is he going to be all right?” she asked anxiously.

  Chogan studied the tube’s readouts. “He seems to be stabilizing. What happened to him anyway? And . . .” She frowned. “Did you know he’s half-Xeran?”

  Riane dropped into the nearest chair and began, helplessly, to laugh.

  “She knows.” Charlotte folded her arms and settled against the wall to wait.

  Riane briefed Chief Dyami about her experiences while sitting in a chair next to Nick’s infirmary bed. As she spoke, she absently stroked Frieka’s big head, which was planted solidly on her knee as if he had no intention of letting her out of his sight.

  Ever again.

  Charlotte sat next to her, adding any details she could—or would, given the Sela’s instructions to her.

  “So let me get this straight. Your friend here,” Dyami gestured at Nick, who was now deeply asleep rather than comatose, “fought the Victor while in the energy-construct guise of a giant primitive alien?”

  Riane scratched her nose. It did sound pretty ridiculous, if you hadn’t actually seen it. The reality, on the other hand, had been sheer terror. “Well, yeah. Apparently the normal laws of physics don’t really apply to the Sela.”

  “And this construct beat the Victor so badly, he exploded into some kind of goo?”

  Riane nodded. “Apparently the Victor is actually a really large nanobot colony.”

  “It’s rumored on Xer,” Charlotte said distantly, “that the Victor was a great military leader back in the first days of the colony, a couple centuries ago. They say He was a cyborg. As time went on and He began to age out, He replaced more and more of his body with nanobots. Now . . .”

  “All that’s left are the ’bots.” Dyami grimaced, plainly not taken with the theory. “I think I saw a triddie about that once. It wasn’t a very good triddie either.”

  “Well, the Victor is definitely not fictional,” Riane told him tartly.

  “So what about Nick?” Charlotte demanded, leaning forward in her chair. “Vanja said he needs to stay here.”

  Dyami gave her a narrow-eyed look. “Why?”

  “You’re going to need him. The Victor isn’t going to stay goo for long. And when He recovers . . .”

  “He told the Guardian he had learned how the T’Lir works from fighting him,” Riane said. “Assuming he wasn’t lying, the Galactic Union is going to need all the help we can get.”

  “That may be, but legally Nick’s situation is complicated,” Dyami pointed out. “He is a temporal native.”

  Frieka lifted his head. “I checked, Chief. He disappeared from the historical record without a trace.”

  “Yeah, and the Mother Goddess knows that Xeran DNA doesn’t belong in the past.” Dyami sighed. “You’ll have to go before a Temporal Enforcement judge, but I doubt you’ll have any real trouble getting him permission to stay in this century.”

  Riane blew out a breath. “Thanks, Chief.”

  “No, thank you for getting back here in one piece to tell us about the shit storm headed o
ur way.” He rose to his feet and dropped a hand on her shoulder. “Glad to have you back.”

  Frowning, Riane watched him duck out of Nick’s medical bubble. “Was it just me, or did the Chief seem really subdued?”

  “He locked Dona in the brig on suspicion of treason,” Frieka told her bluntly. “Now that she’s been cleared, she’s still not real happy with him.”

  Riane winced. “Ouch.”

  “Riane?” Nick’s voice sounded faint, cracked. He stopped and cleared his throat. “Riane?”

  She sat up in pleasure. “Hey! You’re finally awake. How do you feel?”

  “Like I got run over by a train. Which then backed over me a couple of times.” He licked dry lips. “Is there any water?”

  She turned to the bedside vendser to get it just as Frieka reared beside the bed.

  Nick gave him a smile. “Frieka. Hey.”

  The wolf gaped his jaws in a lupine smile. “Riane says you showed me where to find her when that dickhole Xeran kidnapped her when she was twelve.”

  “Yeah.” He reached eagerly for the cup. Riane steadied it as he drank thirstily.

  “So that leaves just one question.” The wolf’s eyes narrowed. “Just what are your intentions toward my little girl?”

  • 35 •

  “Frieka!” Riane yelped, horrified.

  Nick choked on his water and began to laugh.

  The wolf eyed him. “I don’t think this is a subject for humor.”

  Nick wiped his mouth. “Actually . . .” He stopped to cough. “I don’t think so either.” Sobering, he looked Frieka right in the eye. “I love her. My intentions are to be a part of her life, for as long as she’ll have me, in whatever capacity.” He looked up to see Riane’s dark eyes going wide and round, her soft lips parting. Unable to resist, he caught the back of her head and dragged her down for a kiss. She tasted so sweet, it was all he could do not to moan.

  “Pheromones!” the wolf said, and pretended to cough. “A huge, choking cloud of pheromones!” But there was satisfaction in his blue eyes.