Scarred Protector (Midworlder Trilogy Book 2)

by Mundy, Maggie

  Table of Contents

  SCARRED PROTECTOR

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  SCARRED PROTECTOR

  Book Two of the Midworlder Trilogy

  MAGGIE MUNDY

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  SCARRED PROTECTOR

  Copyright©2015

  MAGGIE MUNDY

  Cover Design by Fiona Jayde

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-61935-987-1

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  For my husband, Alan,

  and my daughters, Jenny and Rachel,

  who are my greatest fans.

  For my wonderful sister Nora,

  and my great friends John and Jan Ashforth.

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you to all the people who have made this book possible with their help, support and encouragement. A few years ago the concept for The Midworlder series came to me and I knew I had to tell the stories of these wounded angels and the women they love.

  Extra thanks go to my husband Alan, and daughters Jenny and Rachel. They never doubted I could do this even when I did. Thanks also go my critique partner, Delwyn Jenkins who has been one of my greatest supporters, and has always been generous in sharing her time and knowledge. I also want to thank my number one fan, Suzanne Terry for her support and encouragement and the odd nag to write even more books.

  I would like to express thanks to all members of The South Australian Romance Authors and The Romance Writers of Australia for the support and encouragement. These groups make the dream of publication possible for so many.

  I acknowledge the support from my fellow Soul Mate Publishing authors who continuously share their knowledge and expertise. They are truly a wonderful group that I am proud to be a part of.

  Special thanks go to my editor Paul whose patience and understanding during the editing process was outstanding. Thanks for believing in me and my story.

  Last but not least I would like to thank to all the people at Soul Mate who bring their excellence and expertise in the area of publishing. Thanks also to illustrator Fiona Jayde, for her fantastic cover art. I would also like to say how grateful I am to Senior Editor Debbie Gilbert who could see the worth in my story.

  Chapter 1

  Farewell

  Evie’s stomach clenched as she placed her hands on her legs. At least no one would notice how much she was shaking, not that anyone was looking. She hated hospitals. The bloody angels and demons were all over the freaking place. Funny thing was the ghosts weren’t. You would have thought with people dying they would have been roaming the corridors, arms outstretched like zombies, but nope. Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to breathe. There was one ghost she didn’t want to see and it was Dad’s. She could hold back her tears but not the inevitable.

  Evie pressed her back against the wall, hoping it would give her some strength with what was to come. It didn’t−it was just a wall. The woman behind the desk at the front of the ward kept staring over the top of her spectacles. Evie thought she would wave a finger at her in a minute, like she was being a naughty kid. The nurse was probably wondering why the little old man had someone who appeared such a mess visiting. Evie looked down at her hands against her black pants. Okay, so she was mixed race and tanned, but even she was starting to look pale because she never went out in the sun anymore. Her head of black hair hung in a mass of curls around her shoulders. It was always an unruly mess. She’d plait it some days, but then when she’d take it out, it would look like she’d stuck her finger in a plug socket.

  Evie tucked a strand behind her ear and bit her bottom lip. Dad was dying and her heart ached so much, she was sure it was physically breaking in two. It was the only reason she had left the house, which had been her place of security and sanctuary for the past five years. Most of her twenty-five-year-old friends from school were off around the world with high-flying jobs, or married with kids. Evie gave up long ago on the idea of ever meeting someone or having a relationship. Who wants a nutcase who sees weird stuff like she did for a girlfriend?

  The past few days, the hospital had kept calling, saying Dad was getting worse. How could she be so selfish to not have come earlier? Each day she phoned, but he said to stay away. He would be fine and home tomorrow. A part of her knew he was lying to protect her and things were worse, but she was scared. Today the nurse phoned and said Dad probably wouldn’t make it through the night. The doctor was in there now doing something. Draining fluid from his abdomen, maybe.

  The doctor came out of the room and said something to the nurse at her desk. The nurse pointed over, and he turned to stare. Evie’s thoughts went out to him, she was sure he had no good news to tell her. He strode over and peered down awkwardly as he drew his lips into a thin line. She got up but kept her arms folded across her chest, not wanting to shake his hand. She didn’t like to touch people. When she did, their angels and demons or whatever they were seemed to get agitated. Funny thing was these weird beings never seemed to be able to tell she could see them. They always kind of stared straight through her like they were looking but seeing nothing. She was just mad and imagining it all anyway.

  “Miss Withers. Evie, isn’t it? I’m Doctor Samuels. We’ve made your father as comfortable as possible. I fear he may not last much longer, though. I was wondering whether you have any questions for me.”

  Evie shook her head. Dad was dying−what else was there to say?

&nb
sp; “I’ll be back later to check on him.”

  He walked off, and she had the distinct impression he was glad the discussion was over. She couldn’t blame him. She hoped he didn’t think she was rude, but she didn’t know what to say to people anymore. Except maybe, I’m a fucking loony, so you should stay away from me. It wasn’t the sort of comment that would endear people to you.

  She took a deep breath and turned toward her father’s room, her combat boots clomping on the hard floor. Dad had always been stronger than her against the angels and demons. He could see them, too, but never seemed to be phased by it. Said he thought he had an angel, but neither of them could see it. Evie wasn’t sure whether she wanted one or not. Some of the dark ones looked like they were draining every bit of goodness out of people. She would rather be mad than have one of them on board.

  She stood at the door of the hospital room and peered across at the man she hardly recognized anymore. He seemed so small and frail. All her life, he had always been so cheerful and full of laughter. He used to say laughing was part of the Jamaican way of life and everyone should do it more.

  The doctor said he had taken the fluid away, but Dad’s abdomen still looked large under the sheets. The nurse said something about the fluid collecting there because of the tumor. They had opened and closed him, saying it was inoperable so they couldn’t remove it. He wouldn’t have made it through major surgery anyway. There was a tube going into a bag on the side of the bed, and it was filling up with a brownish liquid. The room smelt like a mixture of antiseptic and bile, causing her stomach to turn. Dad always smelt of Old Spice, and she used to tease him about it, but not now. He opened his eyes, looked toward her, and smiled.

  “Evie.”

  She ran across the room and went to hug him, but hesitated, thinking she might hurt him, but he reached his arms up to her.

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  He was dying, yet all he thought about was her. “I’ll be fine. I didn’t want whatever they are to win by keeping us apart now. I’m wearing the bracelet you made me so they can just bugger off. I’ll be fine. Have they been bothering you?”

  “Mind your language. Not sure what that voodoo trinket will do, but it can’t do any harm to have our spirits on your side. The angels know they’ll have me soon enough, so they have probably gone to bother someone else. I can only see the ones attached to others still, but like you, only when they touch me. Guess I was wrong to think I had one. Thought that now I’m going, it might have shown up.” He coughed and screwed his face up in pain. Evie grabbed the glass of water from beside the bed and gave him a drink. He lay back against the pillow, but he was still struggling with each intake of air. She had never felt so useless in all her life.

  “Thank you, Evie. I’m sorry I called the ambulance the other day. I didn’t want to upset you, and I panicked with the pain. I should’ve been with you. I’m going anyway, so we should’ve been together. It’s not like these good people here can stop what is to come.”

  “No, you were right to call. They’ve made you comfortable and I couldn’t do that.” Her father smiled and peered passed her, as if he was staring at something else. Evie’s hands went sweaty while she tried to control her breathing. The room had gone cold and she knew they were no longer alone. She closed her eyes and crossed her fingers. Please let it be a pixie. What a pathetic appeal that sounded, and who was she asking anyway? She took a deep breath and turned. Letting out a sigh, she was relieved to see a beautiful pixie-like angel with glowing white-and-gold wings sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Dad took Evie’s hands in his and squeezed them. “She said they didn’t know I could see them.”

  “They can talk?” Evie couldn’t see the pixie’s mouth move, so maybe she was talking in Dad’s head. “How come they haven’t spoken to us before?”

  A chill went up Evie’s spine when the pixie glared at her. What the hell was wrong now?

  “She said I can see her because I’m dying, but she’s angry you can see her, too. She’s asking where your guardian is.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t they have all the answers?” Evie considered pulling a face at the pixie, but maybe she shouldn’t get it angry since she was here for Dad.

  “She said she’s calling someone to come get you. She said you’re not safe without one.”

  Dad started to cough again. Hacking coughs shook his whole body. Evie tried to give him a sip of water, but the coughing was getting worse. Then he gripped her hand tightly, took in a big breath, and let it out slowly. She waited, staring at him, but he didn’t take another breath. His chest no longer moved as the monitor beside the bed started to alarm. The nurse from the desk outside ran in, followed by the doctor. He listened to Dad’s chest then looked back up at her and shook his head. Then he pressed a button on the machine to turn the alarm off. There would be no crash team trying to save Dad. What would be the point?

  Evie peered at the end of the bed to where the pixie had been sitting. She was gone now, just like Dad. Her brain told her she should move, but her legs would give out if she tried. The doctor was talking to her, but she couldn’t focus on the words. The nurse went to help, but Evie put her hand up to stop her as she guided her from the room. She couldn’t have someone touching her now. It would make things worse. The nurse led her to a small room opposite where Evie sat on the couch before her legs gave out. A glass of water was placed on the table in front of her, but Evie didn’t even have the inclination to drink.

  Her brain was numb and all she could think was that she was completely alone. No one here would understand. If she told them what she could see, then they would put her on medication and in a locked ward. It’d been tried once before and didn’t do a damn thing. Dad got her out back then, but she vowed never to tell people again. She should get home. The nurse said she needed to sign some papers, and then she could leave. Evie wanted to be out of here and in the imagined safety of her home. She stood and walked across, opening the door a crack. She saw the orderly push the mortuary trolley into Dad’s room. They would wash him, lay him out, and put a tag on his foot with his name on it. They would put him in a cold locker where he would be alone. Evie sat down, her body going cold, as if all the energy she had been holding onto was gone. Five minutes later, the trolley was pushed down the corridor. Would they let her go now?

  Her backpack was still in Dad’s room. She would grab it and leave. It was strange to walk in and see the bed stripped already, like he had never been there. She walked across and laid her hand on the mattress that had been his last resting place. It was cold−what did she expect? Tears were so close, and her chest hurt as she breathed in deeply.

  A shiver went through her body. What was the term? Someone had walked over your grave. At this moment, they weren’t just walking, they were digging her up. She didn’t need to turn to know she was no longer alone in the room. A feeling of dread wafted over her as the hair on her neck stood on end. All those years she had hidden at home away from danger. Well there was no way she would go down without a fight. Dad was gone, so what did she have to live for anyway? Before turning, she slipped her hand inside her backpack and grabbed the small letter opener she had put there earlier. Seeing what was there when she turned around, she thought a letter opener was going to be about as useful as a sieve in a flood.

  He was right in front of her, so close she could look up and see the gold on one of his teeth when he smiled at her. He breathed out, and she thought she would choke on the sweet, sickly smell that reminded her of treacle. He was so pretty, yet she could feel the evil wafting off him hitting her and making her stomach want to empty its contents. His short blond hair was perfect, and his blue eyes held her in their stare. She wanted to pull her hand out of her bag but couldn’t move. She wanted to call for the nurse to come, but her vocal cords were not responding.

  “So it’s
true. A female without a guardian. None in centuries, then two in a matter of years. This is my lucky day.” He placed his palm against her cheek and moved it down to her neck, gripping her windpipe until she struggled for air. He didn’t stop there, as he moved on down her body and squeezed her breast hard. Her eyes filled with tears, but she couldn’t cry out. His hand went lower and gripped between her legs. She wanted to vomit or bring her leg up but couldn’t manage anything, as her body stiffened in fear, or perhaps he was he controlling her somehow.

  “To fuck an unprotected female has always been a fantasy of mine. I only had to live two hundred years to do it. I hope you’re worth the wait. You know it might make this planet a bit more interesting.”

  The pretty blond guy moved away and Evie’s body could move again. She pulled out the letter opener and aimed it at his back. It flew through the air but stopped before it hit him. She concentrated on making the knife inch forward until it nearly scratched his face. He turned and the letter opener dropped to the floor. She should have been able to control it, and yet she couldn’t do a damn thing. Pretty boy wagged his finger at her like she was a naughty child.

  “Interesting little talent you have there, but I shall enjoy beating it out of you. I think we should get out of this place before any other Midworlders show up, don’t you? I don’t like sharing anything and your dim little human mind is sending out thoughts like a beacon. I’ll soon change that too. I’m only interested in your body.”

  Midworlders. What the hell was he on about? Mid-what-world? She didn’t want to go anywhere with him. She didn’t want to go anywhere with anyone. Home and safety. There, she had everything she needed to keep everyone away. Everyone, except the voice in her head, but she could cope with him. Then again, maybe being mad meant you had voices in your head and weird guys with gold teeth who wanted to do things to you. She would make a run for it. Isn’t that what someone would do in the movies? She so wanted this to be a movie.