Guardian

by Rhonda Print

  Roman cleared his throat. “Persidian did not send me.”

  “Then what…” Katherine’s eyes widened.

  “Claire was attacked by an evil Spirit.”

  Katherine pulled the back of her hand to her mouth and sucked in a shrieking gasp.

  “Oh my gosh, Claire!”

  Claire put up her hand to stop her mom from coming any closer. “You knew?” Her tone mirrored the horrified look on her face. “You knew this could happen and you didn’t tell me?”

  Katherine tried to put her arms around Claire but was halted when Claire raised her index finger. “Don’t, Mom. Just don’t.”

  “You have to understand,” Katherine pleaded.

  “No.” Claire shook her head slowly. “I don’t have to understand anything! You lied to me. My whole life is a lie.” Her bottom lip began to quiver.

  “Not entirely.” Roman realized too late he shouldn’t have spoken when both women glared at him.

  “What exactly do you mean?” Katherine asked.

  He took a breath, stalled, and then let it out. There was no easy way to say it.

  “Persidian is dead; he assigned me as Claire’s Guardian.” A sob escaped Katherine and she buried her face in her hands.

  Claire simply stared at him and he wasn’t sure if she fully comprehended what he’d just told her.

  “How?” Katherine scrubbed her hands over her face. “How did he die?”

  “Valiantly in battle. He gave himself so others could live.” Roman’s chin stiffened with pride.

  “That’s why…” Katherine’s eyes glazed over in thought.

  “Why what?” Claire put a comforting hand on her mother’s shoulder. She may have been angry with her but she seemed to still need to ease her mom’s sorrow.

  “He was to return on your twenty-first birthday. We were going to tell you then. He never showed up.” Katherine sniffed.

  Claire turned away. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, Mom, I really am. But I grieved for the father I thought I’d had long ago. What I don’t know is why you never told me. I don’t understand.”

  “It was for your own safety. If the Spirit world had known Persidian had a daughter, they would have destroyed many searching for you.”

  “What the hell is a Spirit and what would they want with me?” Claire demanded.

  Roman moved closer to the women, offering what little comfort he could. “Some are merely lost souls looking for a way to regain some entry into this realm of life, others merely pranksters, feeding off the havoc they cause their Host to create.” His eyes narrowed. “But most are the epitomes of evil, Claire, seeking only to create havoc and then feed upon it. Once they are sated, or the body they’ve invaded is no longer able to go on, they will kill their Host subject, condemning their soul to a life of servitude and pain.”

  “Why me?” Claire’s voice faltered.

  “You are the Hybrid daughter of a very powerful gargoyle. The Spirits do not know Persidian is dead. They would have abducted you, perhaps tried to use you to barter with Persidian for power,” Roman shrugged, “perhaps not.” His grim tone made Claire shudder but she needed this information.

  “I had a right to know who I am!” Claire’s voice held both betrayal and fear. “I had a right to know what I am!” She croaked out the words with disbelief. “And what the hell is a Guardian anyway?”

  “I have been your Guardian since you were twenty years old, the year Persidian died.

  It is my duty,” his voice softened, “and my honor, to watch over you. Although…” his eyes flitted to Katherine, “I did not know you were a Hybrid.”

  “How did you know it was a Spirit that attacked me? And even if it was, it could have been a kind one, only a lost soul.”

  “It is one of my abilities as a Gargoyle that allows me to see the Spirits that the human eye cannot detect. The darker the mist appears, the more evil the Spirit. The Spirit above you was darker than night.”

  Claire was trembling as she spoke. “I felt something…”

  “The mist will hover above its intended Host, allowing the unsuspecting person to absorb it, leaving the Host completely vulnerable to the Spirit’s will.”

  “And then?” she asked hesitantly.

  Roman continued, “Once inside the human body, or Host, as they are referred to, the Spirit will use the mortal to perform unspeakable deeds the Host will not remember. The Host becomes instantly addicted to the Spirit presence, unaware of the cause of such turmoil and pain, ending only in their death where he or she will become part of the Spirit world. A ghost for an eternity with an insatiable appetite for destruction.”

  “But you killed it? Right, I mean, if its dead, it can’t hurt me anymore,” Claire croaked.

  “Remember Claire, there was more than one Spirit in that alley,” Roman said through gritted teeth. “It is unlikely the second will not hunt for you.”

  “What happens when it finds me?” she asked with wide eyes.

  “If the Spirit had remained with the Host…” He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “If it had stayed in you long enough there would have been no way to destroy one without eliminating the other.”

  “You would have killed me?” Her voice rose in alarm.

  Roman shook his head slowly. “I have never had an invasion that involved someone I cared about.”

  “Would you have killed me, Roman?” she demanded.

  “I honestly do not know.”

  Roman pulled his eyes away from her. “But the Spirit had to be destroyed or the consequences would have been devastating. Many human crime sprees, serial killings and unresolved missing persons cases can be attributed to Spirit invasions.”

  “Claire…” Katherine interrupted.

  “No, Mom. I get it. You thought you were protecting me. Okay? But that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

  “Fair enough,” Katherine conceded with a sigh.

  “I am sorry, Claire.” Roman took Claire’s hands in his, trying to use his Persuasion to calm her. This comforting thing was new to him. He saved humans, erased it from their memory and moved on. End of story.

  But the way her lips trembled made him want to hold her. To erase the sorrow from her even though he knew Persuasion was useless on her.

  “You must pack and prepare to leave.” He’d hoped the change of subject, the need for her to do something, would calm her.

  He was wrong.

  Claire jerked her hand from his. “Where exactly do you think we’re going?” The fire of anger in her clear green eyes told him he’d hit his mark. Good. Better to have her anger than her sorrow.

  “You are coming to stay with me.”

  “I am not going anywhere. I’ve told you, I need to sign the lease for my gallery…”

  “And you shall. After that, you are coming with me.”

  “Go to hell!”

  “He’s right, Claire. You should stay with him. He can protect you.”

  “Stay out of this, Mom!” Claire snapped.

  Katherine took that as her cue and gathered herself together. “I know you need some time to absorb all of this.” She smoothed Claire’s hair back from her face and looked into her eyes. “Call me when you’re ready to talk about it. I’m sorry, Claire, and I know you’re angry but please, please keep Roman near. He will keep you safe.” The words were both reassurance to Claire and a demand to Roman. “Call me when you’ve worked off your mad.” She brushed a kiss on Claire’s cheek. “And never doubt that you were conceived with love, Claire. Persidian and I…” Katherine stifled a sob, “we loved each other, and we both loved you.”

  * * * *

  Claire walked numbly into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. She twisted the lock on the doorknob then turned and leaned her back against it. Her heart was pounding as anger and adrenaline coursed through her body. She stayed still, listening for the footsteps she was sure would follow after her. Instead, sh
e heard the springs in her couch groan under Roman’s weight as he sat upon it and the whispered voice of her mother’s goodbye as she quietly left.

  Claire’s head spun with possibilities until she was nearly too dizzy to stand. Would she transform into what Roman was? Was this why she’d always chosen gargoyles to sculpt? Was her attraction to Roman because she was like him? For a reason she couldn’t explain, the last question bothered her the most. She’d always felt she was different, but then again, didn’t most people?

  Claire didn’t know what to think, especially when the words that echoed relentlessly through her mind were “I have never had an invasion that involved someone I cared about.” It was the one thing that seemed to keep her from falling apart. Roman cared about her. He’d been watching over her for years, keeping her safe from evil she didn’t even know existed.

  Even her mother knew. Well, maybe not all of it, but she knew enough to warn Claire, which, in her defense, she had planned on doing before Persidian died. How had her life become so complicated?

  Claire huffed out a breath and walked over to the window. The city was spread below her, dark clouds looming in the distance with a promise of rain. Claire chose one cloud and stared at it, letting her mind go blank. It was a trick she used before beginning work on a sculpture, shutting out the world so her creativity could run wild while calming her soul. The world outside became a blur of light and motion.

  She remained like that until she noticed her vision darkening.

  Snapping herself out of it, she saw one particular cloud seemed more willowy than the others. It shifted and swept across the sky, more like smoke than a cloud. Claire was being watched.

  She was sure of it.

  Yet her apartment was several stories up. Her eyes darted around; perhaps there was a fire nearby. When she brought her gaze back to the shifting black mist she realized it had moved closer still. The hair at the nape of her neck rose in alarm, her body tingling with fear.

  Before she could react, a face formed within the odd black cloud. Skeletal features barely covered with a thin veil of skin looked back at her with empty eye sockets. Just as suddenly as it appeared, it disintegrated like smoke and then wafted under the frame of her window.

  The stark realization that the Spirit had once again found her forced a scream to bubble in her throat. Claire was paralyzed, knowing she should move but unable to, her throat aching with the need to release the scream lodged there. She felt herself slipping away, giving in to the will of the Spirit.

  Chapter Nine

  Claire didn’t even jump when he kicked the door of her bedroom and it splintered open.

  Roman crossed the room, his spiral-shaped blade held in his hand and a look of fury carved on his face.

  He saw the Spirit as it retreated from her, pulling her body upward tightly as if the blade were sucking it out of her head.

  This Spirit was stronger than the last, its form more defined as a large human male; and the harder Roman twisted the blade, the more it entwined itself around Claire.

  Her face was sheet white and contorted in pain. Claire’s eyes were clouded but there was still a spark of determination shining in there. She was fighting it from the inside.

  Her will was strong and she was refusing to give herself to the Spirit.

  It was costing her though and she paled even more.

  Roman pulled the second dagger from its sheath while transforming his hands into the lethal claws of his breed.

  Grasping both blades with his thumbs and palm, he simultaneously thrust the knives into the Spirit while digging his clawed fingers into its sides.

  The Spirit roared its shadowed head back and howled in agony as Roman used both dagger and claw to shred it apart. In moments, the only thing left of the Spirit was its painful shrieks echoing off the walls.

  Claire collapsed to the floor in a heap, releasing the scream that had to have left her throat raw. He didn’t realize she was crying until Roman bent in front of her and brushed her hair from her face.

  “Son of a Bitch!” he cursed as he plucked her from the floor and held her in his arms.

  Roman’s body had exploded with rage when his senses picked up the presence of the Spirit. His heart nearly ceased to beat after he crashed open the bedroom door and saw the raw terror on Claire’s beautiful face. Her mouth was half open with a scream she couldn’t let out, her body stiff and tense as the Spirit overtook her. He was almost too late.

  It was unforgivable.

  Had the Spirit consumed Claire’s will before he got there he would have been forced to kill her too. The very thought made him ill.

  On top of that, he had no idea how the Spirit had gotten so close to her without him feeling it.

  Damn it! Where the hell was Gideon? He needed backup and he needed it now!

  Gideon picked a hell of a time to pull a disappearing act!

  As Roman brushed Claire’s hair from her face his heart broke once again. Her face was wet with tears; she was gulping in huge breaths of air and shaking so badly he didn’t think she could stand.

  She melted into him as he carried her to the bed and sat down. He wasn’t yet ready to let her out of his arms and when she buried her face into his shoulder, he realized she wasn’t ready to be put down either.

  Claire’s slender body trembled and small mewling sounds accompanied each exhale.

  Roman slid his fingers into her hair and brushed the silky strands away from her face.

  She took in a shaky breath and her lush lips curved into an attempted smile. Her green eyes were hooded and tears rimmed the long lashes that lay upon her pale skin. Her scent intoxicated him and it caused him actual pain to restrain himself from meeting her lips with his.

  Before he could act on his impulse, Claire shifted; her delicate hands encircled his neck and pulled him to her. Her lips tasted like the finest of wine mingled with the sweet salty taste of her lingering tears. The kiss was tentative at first, a slight meeting of lips then a quick withdrawal. Once, twice, three times she met his lips before she opened her eyes and looked into his, searching for acceptance.

  Roman twined his fingers in her hair, his thumbs caressing the side of her cheeks.

  She was a temptation he couldn’t resist, no matter how hard he had tried to convince himself otherwise.

  “I don’t know why this is happening,” she whispered.

  Roman didn’t know if she meant the Spirit or the kiss so he remained silent.

  “Will they always hunt me?” Claire pulled away and busied herself straightening her clothes and hair, her cheeks flushed with color.

  Roman shifted Clair so she sat upon the bed then distanced himself. “Yes,” he answered solemnly. “News of your existence would have traveled far among the Spirits by now.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “So what the hell am I supposed to do now? I have a life to live.” Claire stood and started pacing, the light of determination and anger back in her eyes. “I’m just starting my gallery. I won’t give that up.” She wheeled on Roman, stabbing a finger in his direction. “I will not give up my gallery!”

  “I will keep you safe. I will help you open your gallery as long as you promise not to go anywhere without me.” The words followed Roman’s defeated sigh. He was not accustomed to associating with humans. His job was to observe, remain in the shadows and protect discreetly. This would not be easy on him but he could see that Claire would not be swayed.

  “Anywhere?”

  “I cannot guarantee your safety if I am not with you,” he insisted.

  “And how am I supposed to explain you to my friends, to everyone?”

  “Tell them I am your bodyguard.”

  “Yeah, that’ll work,” Claire quipped sarcastically. “Everyone has a bodyguard following them around all day. They’ll want to know why.” She sucked in her bottom lip in thought.

  “Tell them I am your lover.” He smiled.

  Her head snapped
up and her cheeks once again flushed pink. He could see the wheels of her mind spinning, the silence hung awkward between them until she nodded.

  “Yes, you're right. But let’s stick with boyfriend, not lover.” He shrugged. “The terminology does not matter to me.”

  “Fine.” She glanced at the clock behind him. “Oh my gosh! I’m going to be late.” Chapter Ten

  Claire nervously shook her foot the entire car ride to the small shop she’d rented for her gallery. She filled Roman in on the details of the gallery in case, Margaret, the real estate agent she was to sign papers with, asked him any questions. It would be hard to convince her friends Roman was her boyfriend if they couldn’t even pull it off in front of someone she barely knew.

  But it definitely wouldn’t be hard to prove the chemistry between them. Her kiss with Roman had left her boneless, and more than a little flushed. She darted her tongue out slightly to capture his taste, still upon her lips, and felt a warm ball of passion form low in her stomach.

  She brought herself back to the here and now as they turned the corner.

  The street was nicely lined with tidy glass-front shops, the windows of each arranged with everything from clothing to home decor. It’s a good street for my gallery. A small section of town where both locals and tourists strolled down the southwestern-themed street to either browse through the variety of stores or simply take in a meal on the patio of a small, but popular, restaurant.

  Claire bolted out of the car and excitedly walked to the storefront that would soon be filled with her sculptures, and, if everything went as planned she’d also showcase the work of some other local artists.

  Roman’s hand on her arm stopped her from pulling open the door. Claire looked up at him.

  “Right,” she took a step back, “you first.” This bodyguard/boyfriend thing was going to take some getting used to.

  The door was unlocked but a quick look around the room revealed no one was there.

  Roman flashed her an annoyed look when she burst into the room before he gave the all clear.