Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4

by Melissa Delport

  It made perfect sense, but the consequences of what had just happened were beyond comprehension. After all these years their devotion and dedication had been for nothing. A vampire had entered the City exposing it to the naked eye. Summerfeld had fallen.

  Chapter 2

  Kellan felt the dread that had settled inside of him explode outwards, searing him from the inside, as an explosion reverberated around the City shaking the very earth beneath it. The warehouse below him creaked in protest, shuddering ominously, but Kellan barely noticed. He kept his eyes on the cornflower field, in which, through a hazy ripple, a magnificent Cathedral seemed to sprout from the ground. Great marble pillars blossomed into stained glass windows, and finally, a high-domed ceiling, taller than any man-made basilica. The massive black shadow that spilled out of its doors and windows shifted and morphed into a ferocious mob, fangs bared.

  “Eldon protect us,” Freya gasped at his side. There were so many, and, as they watched, tendrils split from the whole, clusters of vampires who started spreading out into the City itself.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Kellan regretted every action he had taken up until this moment. The thought of his wife and his child only a few streets down crippled him with fear. Freya, too, experienced a wave of regret. She should never have insisted on being here. She should have stayed with Sage. How could she have left her alone in the wake of that?

  A few hours earlier, when Quinn and the other Guardians had disappeared through the portal, the wards of Summerfeld had sprung into action, led by Kellan and Channon.

  “Kellan!” Channon yelled, crossing the street to meet him as the last of the Guardians raced toward the fountain. “Quinn told you what’s happening?” Channon asked, her face flushed.

  “Yes,” Kellan replied. “The vampires have found us.” He watched as Monique, trailing the others, vanished from sight. The Guardians were gone now, off to fight a battle that they might not win. Kellan experienced a moment of pure, unadulterated fear for the brave warriors he considered friends.

  “She told you about the traitor?’ Channon continued, and Kellan nodded.

  “Not in as many words, but she mentioned there might be a chance they could break through the Gateway.”

  “We need to be ready,” Channon instructed. Her amber eyes seemed to glow yellow and Kellan took an involuntary step back, glancing up at the sky. The quarter moon hung harmlessly above them. He must be seeing things. “My wolves will fight,” Channon continued. “I’ve sent a message to all of them to gather in the courtyard. I suggest you bring your people too - anyone who is able to help. Send the rest indoors and tell them to barricade themselves in. I’m not sure if the vampires’ weakness will apply in here, but with any luck they won’t be able to get into the houses without being invited in.”

  Kellan hadn’t considered this, but, even if it worked, it would simply make them prisoners in their own homes. They would starve to death, at best. Kellan rounded up every Fae man in their community, including Velkan and his father, Harlan.

  “What about the hatchlings?” Velkan asked, when Kellan fetched him from the shed. Kellan rounded on Mairin who was preparing their meat dinner.

  “Mairin, you stay with them. Lock this door when we leave and try to keep them as quiet as possible. Mairin looked terrified but she did as she was told. She grabbed Velkan’s hand as he passed and gave him a brief hug before pulling her raven hair over her eyes to hide her emotion.

  “We’re going to fetch your dad, too,” Velkan told her. “We’ll send Isadora back to be with you.” The mention of her mother sent Mairin over the edge and she gave way to her sobs.

  “Leave it,” Kellan put out a restraining arm as Velkan stepped forward to comfort her. There wasn’t any time.

  Freya intercepted them on their way out of the garden. Taking in her bow and quiver, Kellan raised his hands.

  “No,” he commanded. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Velkan hovered awkwardly and Kellan waved him on. “You go ahead. Fetch the others and meet me in the courtyard.” As the boy took off Kellan turned back to Freya.

  “You need to stay with Sage.”

  “Anaise is with her,” Freya replied, deliberately remaining impassive. “She will keep her safe and it’ll keep her mind off Velkan. She’s terrified.”

  “As she should be. You need to go back inside.”

  “Kellan,” Freya replied firmly, “you can stand here and argue with me, or we can stop wasting time and join the others. The chances are that nothing bad will enter the City but I can’t just sit at home and wait. If they are going to come for us, I need to be out here, protecting our baby girl.”

  “You need to let me protect you!” Kellan tried one last time to reason with her, but Freya gave him a small sorrowful smile.

  “If they do get in and they get past you… I’m as good as dead, anyway.”

  He relented finally. It was imperative he get back to the others and Freya could be as stubborn as a mule. He could argue all day and it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference. That didn’t stop him hoping that the others might be able to convince her though.

  A crowd had gathered in the courtyard; a motley crew consisting of most of the faery men, the entire wolf pack, and, to Kellan’s surprise, the gypsies, who looked completely out of place.

  “Tell us what you need us to do,” Balthazar barked, hiding his fear well. Kellan watched as he cast a concerned look at the two gypsy women, and made his decision. He would do for Balthazar what he could not do for himself, he would ensure that the gypsy women were kept out of the fray.

  “Perhaps you could head into the woods,” Kellan suggested, “stay out of harm’s way, and, if the City does fall, try and shepherd out as many wards as you can?”

  Cosima looked faint with relief and Kellan knew he had made the right call. Only Jonas was unhappy with this decision, his fear for Monique’s safety willing him to stay as close as possible. As the gypsies set off toward the woods, Jonas hung back, his fists bunched at his sides.

  “Jonas!” Balthazar called.

  “Go,” Kellan whispered. “She will be all right.”

  “You can’t know that,” Jonas replied, but he did as he was told and hastened after the others.

  “Kellan!” Channon barrelled her way toward them. “You need to find high ground.” The faeries were only valuable to the extent to which they could use their bows. They would be no use in hand-to-hand combat. Channon scanned the area and pointed at the food storage warehouse. “Can you get up there?”

  “Yes, but we should space ourselves out. There’s no telling where the enchantments will break.”

  “But the Guardians always appear here,” Channon pointed out. “Surely this is where they will appear?”

  “I don’t think it works like that. The Guardians cross through the Gateway, and this spot just happens to be where they enter the City. If the Gateway is breached, the boundary between our two worlds disintegrates.”

  “So… where?” Channon swiveled from side to side, her arms wide.

  “It could be anywhere.”

  Channon cursed. “Okay, get your people in place. Wherever you think is best. Stay high; stay out of sight.”

  “What will you do?”

  Channon’s body shuddered and again, Kellan saw the yellow burning in her eyes. Only this time it didn’t end there. As she clenched her fists, her fingernails lengthened, growing to sharp points, and the tendons in her hand bulged beneath her skin.

  “Channon, what’s happening?” Freya placed a hand on the she-wolf’s arm. Channon took a steadying breath and slowly she returned to normal.

  “How are you doing that?” asked Kellan.

  “I don’t know,” Channon admitted. “Maybe we’ve always been able to, but we’ve always fought the transition. The only time we have no control over it is during a full moon. I’m trying to control it.”

  “You’re trying
to bring it out?” Freya murmured. Kellan had thought the exact opposite, but Channon nodded, confirming Freya’s suspicions.

  “If I can do it, so can the pack,” she explained. “And if an army of vampires are coming we need to be able to fight.”

  Kellan glanced around the crowded courtyard and saw countless yellow eyes gazing at him.

  “It looks like it’s working,” he murmured.

  “You two will be up on that roof?” Channon asked, and Freya nodded.

  “No,” Kellan tried once more. “Freya needs to go back home.” His choked plea fell on deaf ears.

  “She’s your best archer,” Channon pointed out and Freya’s lips drew together in satisfaction, as though that settled the matter.

  “I won’t stand by and do nothing,” she echoed. “If the vampires get through the Gateway you are going to need all the help you can get.”

  “It’s working,” Rafe confirmed when Channon returned to his side. His yellow eyes looked strange in the setting of his human face. Beside him, Rayna hissed in pain as her nails cut through the skin on her fingers.

  “Not fast enough,” Channon moaned. If only she could master the transition – bend it to her will – she was sure it would be painless. The wolves fought the change, seeing it as a curse which slowed the process, but perhaps, if they embraced it, it wouldn’t be so painful. If they could shift quickly, and without reservation, she was certain it would be easier. “Kellan and the others are getting into position. Where’s Dominic?” Rayna’s unofficial boyfriend was one of their best fighters.

  “He’s around here somewhere,” Rayna replied.

  “Go and get him,” Rafe instructed. He was watching Channon carefully. She was visibly pained, her back arching, her features shifting between human beauty and wolfish traits.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed through clenched teeth. She wasn’t so far gone that she couldn’t pay attention. “What do you want Dom for?”

  “I don’t,” he replied levelly. “I just need some space to concentrate.”

  “On what?” she gasped, her control slipping and the human mask falling firmly back into place.

  Rafe didn’t answer. It was her pain that had done it. He couldn’t bear seeing her in such agony and he knew that, despite everything, he would do anything to take it from her. Rafe focused his mind on every nerve-ending in his entire body, his bones, flesh and skin, all elements of one single organism, parts of a whole. He felt the heat course through him, opened himself up to it until he thought he would burn up. Only when he was sure he had contained it, did he finally open his mind, setting free the beast that lurked in the recesses of his human psyche.

  Channon called Rafe’s name over and over but he could not hear her. She watched, mesmerised, as he buckled over, an inhumane roar of agony bursting from his lips. The sound tore out of him, morphing into a howl and, in one sudden movement, Rafe threw off his human skin and a fully shifted werewolf stood in his place.

  Chapter 3

  Drake had stayed close to Charlotte when the fighting began. He could feel the excitement emanating from her in waves, but he took a firm hold of her shoulder, pulling her back. Charlotte turned to him, her eyes wide, a rigor-mortis grin of anticipation pulled her lips back, exposing her fangs.

  “Fools rush in,” he cautioned, steering her right, through the crush, until they were on the very outskirts of the mob. The sounds of fighting reached them, even from here, and Charlotte wavered, drawing away from him toward the noise.

  “Here,” Drake announced and she glanced up to see a massive stained glass window. Without warning, Drake seized hold of a vampire nearest them and threw him bodily toward the glass. The shattering sound reminded him of a night not too long ago when he had smashed through Quinn’s living room window to rescue her from Sebastian. How ironic, he thought, that this time he was here to harm, rather than protect her. Leaping through the vast opening, Drake offered Charlotte his hand.

  “Come,” he insisted, hauling her inside the Cathedral. A shadow moved beside them, and Drake recognised Lenora, her eyes wide. Charlotte noticed her too and made a move toward her, but Drake blocked her path.

  “Not now,” he growled, “we need to find your traitor. You shouldn’t be here,” he added in an undertone to Lenora as Charlotte shouldered her way through the vampires pouring in through the window after them.

  “Neither should you,” Lenora replied softly, but Drake didn’t hear. He had already bolted after Charlotte.

  Charlotte picked her way through the chaos, staying out of harm’s way as she searched for the familiar face. Without warning a Guardian appeared in her path; no more than a girl, with blazing red hair pulling free from her braid. Her stakes shone crimson with the blood of the vampires she had slain, and more blood was smeared across her alabaster cheek. Charlotte seemed to shrink, tightening her body like a spring as she prepared to pounce, but then Drake saw him - Isaiah. He bore down on them from the direction where Lenora had been standing only a moment before, his sword raised. Charlotte heard his cry and turned her head just in time, her mouth dropping open as she recognised the Slayer. The Slayer she had thought dead.

  In the instant that the sword thundered down toward her, Charlotte felt strong hands seize her waist and Drake threw her aside in the nick of time. Isaiah rounded on him instead, but Drake moved, faster than Charlotte could believe possible. A moment later he was at her side, helping her to her feet and they bolted into the crowd. Sobered, Charlotte began searching in earnest as a trickle of doubt caterpillared down her spine. The Guardians were fighting back and they had the Slayer after all. Suddenly, her easy victory didn’t seem as certain as she had led herself to believe.

  Drake scanned the area around him, determined to avoid the Guardians until they found the one they were looking for. He finally spotted Quinn, a few yards away, fighting back to back with another female Guardian. Turning on his heel, he dragged Charlotte in the opposite direction.

  “There!” Charlotte cried eventually, and Drake followed the direction of her gaze to where a Guardian stood fighting only a handful of vampires. Standing in the shadow of an enormous monument, Drake recognised Tristan instantly and the shield he had placed around his heart slipped, just a fraction. It seemed he was not the only one who had betrayed Quinn. His anger mounted with every step they took toward the cowardly fool who had lied and used her. The fact that Drake had turned his own back on Quinn meant nothing in comparison to this betrayal. Drake was a vampire, he was supposed to be her enemy. Tristan, however, was a Guardian. He had sworn an oath to protect the City. Drake’s previous dislike for Tristan paled in comparison to the fury he now felt as he gazed upon him.

  Charlotte called off the vampires who had been targeting Tristan.

  “What is he doing here?” Tristan asked, when they were within earshot, his eyes finding Drake. At that moment a scuffle broke out only feet from where they stood and Tristan stepped back, into the shadows, so that he wouldn’t be seen. Coward, Drake seethed again.

  “We don’t have much time!” Charlotte yelled to be heard above the noise. “Now, Tristan!” Forgetting about Drake, Tristan ran toward the altar.

  “Take hold of my hand!” he roared, and Charlotte did as she was told. Drake took hold of Tristan’s other wrist, with a vice-like grip. The Guardian looked about to argue but Charlotte’s cry of “Now!” put paid to any delay.

  Closing his eyes, Tristan muttered words that Drake couldn’t understand. In the chaos of the moment he felt a heat wash over him, a burning fire that seemed centred on his face. Lifting his gaze he met the icy tanzanite eyes that he knew so well. Quinn’s face contorted in pain and Drake felt a moment of pure regret as Tristan finally stopped speaking. The next second his teeth clanged painfully together and he was knocked to the ground as a shockwave of energy coursed through him. Tristan had opened the Gateway.

  Chapter 4

  Quinn stood mesmerised, oblivious to the chaos around her and the vampires hurtling in eve
ry direction, swarming over the City’s hallowed ground. It was inconceivable that Tristan had been the traitor all along; Tristan, who she had trained, who she had loved and who she had so recently shared a bed with.

  She turned on the spot, searching desperately and finally spotted him, leading a small group west. Drake’s tall figure was easy to identify and, where Drake was, Charlotte was sure to be.

  Someone stepped into her line of vision and she lifted her stake automatically before recognising Isaiah. He had also seen Tristan and his amber eyes were no longer liquid, but seemed to be made of stone. Quinn cowered before the power in those eyes, an irrational fear creeping over her. He lifted his arm and, for a horrifying moment, Quinn thought he would strike but, as his blade slashed through the air, she became aware of a howling scream as the vampire who was about to sink his fangs into her neck sagged against the hilt of Isaiah’s sword, the blade having run him through.

  Quinn stumbled, shock and relief coursing through her. Isaiah grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip, steadying her. Meeting his gaze, Quinn saw through the cold, ruthless eyes of the killer, to the pain and regret beneath.

  “It’s a curse,” she murmured, her heart aching for the most compassionate of them all.

  “A necessary one,” he replied acceptingly. “Now go, Quinn. You need to stop them. I’ll hold the others off as long as I can.” He shoved her in the direction in which Tristan had headed and turned back into the fray.

  Watching Quinn go, Isaiah prayed she would be all right. Slowly the vampires in the courtyard advanced on him. They moved with caution, none too keen to take on the Slayer, but they had the numbers. Bracing himself, Isaiah waited.