The next bedroom has two beds in it, occupied by her brother and sister. I smile at the water bandit snuggled under his cover with some sort of superhero on it. On his headboard, the word Wade is carved into a beautiful piece of unpolished wood hanging above his head. The little girl is fast asleep. Her dishwater hair is finally dry, and a nightlight glows on her face. On her headboard, the word carved is Lulu.
The next bedroom is empty. The father has probably passed, and the loss has made the two younger ones choose to share a room. This is also common in affected households. Siblings tend to get closer for comfort, even if they don’t understand their actions.
In the back of the house, I find Rose’s room. I’m thankful her room is one I can see from the tree I chose. It makes her easier to guard. The scent that caught my attention earlier is almost overwhelming. My lungs feel crisp inhaling in this room. Not even in the forest have I experienced this sensation. My heart is pounding; I know I will never forget Rose’s scent.
She is fast asleep as I observe her surroundings. Her room is clean except for a jacket thrown over a chair and a pair of boots and socks on the floor. There are also photographs in this room but mostly of the male I observed earlier. On her dresser is a small wooden jewelry box with a rose carved into the lid. The craftsmanship reminds me of the picture frames in the hallway. On a small wooden desk rests a laptop, printer, and a carved rose lying on its side. The details are immaculate and show much expertise. I suspect Rose knows this artist.
On a handcrafted wooden nightstand are an alarm clock and a wooden lamp carved into a rose, painted white with a green stem and green leaves. This work holds my attention until I get closer to her. Walking quietly around her bed, I study her gently pointed noise and delicate chin. Rose’s face crinkles. Even in her sleep, she seems to worry. I do not become attached to those I guard, but I cannot help my earth-shattering sympathy for this someone I don’t even know. I find myself touching her forehead, reassuring her with a whisper. “I’m trying to help your mother, Rose. Just rest.”
Rose’s face softens as she exhales, and her body relaxes.
Some say humans can process words while they sleep. I hope this is true because I wish to give her some peace. Some comfort. Quiet moments like this will come to an end. Her house will be under attack soon. That thought brings out a need in me to protect her, beyond my normal desires as a Warrior. It stirs within me, and its want becomes powerful, more powerful than my discipline. So when Blaze skfens, calling for me, I’m finding it incredibly hard to leave Rose’s side. He skfens again—Ryder—causing me to slowly back away from her.
We don’t have radios. We are warriors of nature and have been given other ways to communicate. We skfen. It is a thought transference—a reflection.
Before exiting her window, I whisper, “Good night, Rose.”
“Good night.”
My jaw falters. She heard me.
Stepping out onto her porch roof, I find Blaze on the ground, adjusting his leg sheath while inspecting the lower level of the house and its surroundings. I jump to the ground. Blaze confirms my suspicions. “The father passed last year.”
Since this job can be exhausting, we tend to not discuss the humans when off duty. All the Guardians need to let off steam and leave the rest on the field. So I am surprised Blaze is openly talking with me. As we head back to the woods, through Rose’s dried-up farmland, I ask, “This has been your route since we came?”
“Yes, just after the mom was infected, but the family didn’t know she was contaminated yet. The father passed soon after.” Blaze speaks with the lack of attachment we need to carry on. “So what do you think of Rose?” His smirk informs me that Blaze is well aware of her natural beauty.
“She’s alright.”
“Alright, he says. Hmm.”
“Who’s the male hanging around?”
Blaze’s laugh echoes in the woods. “You didn’t memorize her saying it? Oh, you were distracted. I see.”
“Not possible. You know what Isolde said about me and the Prophecy. A human female does not fit into that equation.”
“Sucks for you, I guess, ’cause Rose is already under your skin.”
Blaze is getting under my skin with his assumptions—whether they are true or not. “I just need to know, t-to do my job,” I growl.
“Uh-huh, surrrre you do.” Blaze hesitates. “If memory serves me correctly, his name is Gunner. Reminds me of a dog’s name. He’s a friend who is head over heels for Rose. She is clueless. Too busy surviving.”
Same story as the rest of this town: broken hearts, immeasurable challenges. An ache takes residence in my chest as I think about Rose suffering. I don’t know I’m rubbing my chest till Blaze’s hand is on my shoulder. “She’s okay, Ryder. She’s strong.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Blaze, what is happening to me?”
There is no need to try and hide anymore. He already knows. Blaze knows me best. We became teammates during training when we were five, so we have been partners for twenty years. Blaze takes a deep breath. “Don’t know, but if I were a betting human, I would bet Isolde knows.”
The next night, I follow my routine: check perimeters, throw the dog a treat, rub herbs on Rose’s mother’s forehead, and find myself moving quickly to get to Rose. She sleeps on her side, curled into a ball. Again, her face crinkles. Touching her forehead is all I have to offer.
I’m too stunned to react and move my hand when she grabs it in her slumber. Humans are not supposed to feel us or sense us, but here she is, grasping my hand like she has known me forever. Without having the strength—or the desire—to pull away, I kneel next to her bed, watching her as she begins to quietly rest, really rest. Is this happening?
She grins in her sleep as she tucks my hand between her face and the mattress. I can’t believe my eyes. Rose is finding comfort with me. Even though this shouldn’t be happening, my body settles into a rhythm with hers. It’s as peaceful for me as it seems to be for her.
The magnitude of what the Guardians do can lead to a lot of pressure. Not only do we have to witness it, we have to stop the wrongdoing without being noticed. The last town we came from was a nightmare. That evil we chased was the Demon of Gruesome. Of course, the deaths were blamed on a mad serial killer on the loose. The people assumed the murderer had moved on when the dead bodies ceased.
The FBI’s trail went cold.
Another job well done.
Seeing people suffer can only be balanced with seeing the people who find their way through this madness. My kind rejoices when another family survives and starts living again. And we accept it when a family loses their way. This is what we are raised to believe, but it is so different with Rose. The next night, I find myself running to her, even though I know the Clones won’t attack yet. My duty does not call for me to be so close to Rose until her birthday, yet I am mercilessly pulled to her. Instead of the tree, I sit half in and out of her room on her windowsill, watching her and the forest for intruders. The hours seem to take no toll on me when it comes to Rose.
Standing by her bed, my panic to be closer to her eases. Watching her sleep calms me, like it did the night she held my hand. But it keeps getting more and more intense and soothes me like I would have never expected. I feel serene, away from the cruelty of what I am normally doing at this hour of the night. And the thought that her peaceful expression while she sleeps is partly due to me is humbling. I crave the magic she possesses over me. Inside my body, I go still, really still. I could become addicted to this. I think I already have.
The next night is no different.
And on this night, I rest on my knees next to her bed. I place my hand on her forehead, only to find pure relief when she grasps my fingers again, as if she has been waiting for me. My body feels such a release that it feels herb induced. My eyes close, and my head
eases next to hers, lying on her bed.
When her other hand gently rests on my face, my eyes open to see hers still closed, but she is smiling. “I missed you.” Her whisper suddenly owns every cell of my being. My heart pounds in my ears as she speaks to me in her sleep. I want to tell her how I feel the same—that I miss every hour of light I have to stay away—but I can’t. It is forbidden.
I’m trapped, so trapped among rules, obligations, and the clarity that Rose makes me see. Never have I felt someone as a part of my soul the way the woman lying before me is. Her breath blows across my face as she speaks again. “I’ve been calling for you.” Rose’s lips press against mine.
The jolt that rockets through my body almost throws me ten feet across the room, almost. Instead, my lips hunger for more, and I fight for restraint and control. Soft, nothing has ever felt so soft against my mouth. And when she sleepily murmurs, “I need you,” I almost crawl into her bed to offer all I have.
Instead, I take more of her lips until she stills, slipping into a deeper sleep. I slowly pull away, watching her. Rose, you have bewitched me.
Chapter Four
Ryder
Missing her has become overpowering, so I travel to my charge before my time. Rose’s truck is leaving the driveway when I arrive. I grab a T-shirt and a pair of sneakers Blaze hid in the tree for emergencies and follow. The sun is still lighting the sky as I run unseen past her house.
I hear Gunner inside. “Milkshakes? I don’t have any…”
Blaze had told me where Rose works. The town is small, so I should have no problems. Like the other Warriors, I’m usually not allowed beyond the homes I guard, but I decide to deal with Parker’s repercussions. Rose is worth it.
With people around her, there is no need for me to protect her, but the need to be with her takes over again. I have not seen her since early this morning, and I’m following her truck like a crazed male. Running through the woods alongside of the road, I’m able to keep up until she gets closer to town where I can’t show my speed in public. I have to take the long way, so I push my legs harder.
Relief helps me breathe when I find the building and see her truck parked next to a sign reading, Mountain Café. Blaze is right. It says café but looks like an old, rundown diner. I throw on Blaze’s T-shirt and hide my knife sheath in the back of my pants. Even knowing I am showing signs of exertion, I can’t help barging into the diner to see her awake.
My nostrils are immediately pelted with so many human scents. I normally only deal with one household at a time. Being present in this kind of dwelling is a bit disorienting. I know I am supposed to sit at a table, but I’m not sure what events are to take place next. I choose the table with the long seats at the back of the establishment because I can see all who could possibly approach me, including a redheaded female coming toward me now.
“Hi, what can I get ya?”
“Get me?”
An eyebrow rises. “Ya know, a drink or a steak?”
“Oh, I would like to receive a water and a meatless salad, if I may.”
As she walks away she mumbles, “What I may is not give you my number…”
“Nice shirt.” I’m not shocked when Blaze stands at my table, just as out of breath as me, questioning my non-protocol actions. I try to ignore him because I don’t have an answer. Blaze sits down with no invitation. The redheaded waitress comes back to my table to greet my unwanted guest. “What can I get ya?”
“I will have the same as”—he gestures to me—“whatever my crazy friend here is having.”
Her judgmental expression matches her tone. “Water and a meatless salad. Be right back.”
“What is Isolde thinking with this one?” Blaze glances at Rose.
I’m burning with the same question and dying for an answer. I observe Gunner as he enters the diner, distressed because Rose is holding hands with another male in a booth. I’m sure he is feeling this way because that is what I am experiencing. Jealousy is a human reaction. It is not our way. This is why my obsession with Rose is unexplainable. I clasp my shaking hands. “Blaze, am I losing my mind?” We have heard of Guardians having to retire early due to the overwhelming pressure we must endure, but no one has ever been asked or told to step down at the young age of twenty-five.
“I don’t think that’s what’s happening here.” Blaze takes a sip of my water. “Want me to ask Parker for Rose’s watch again?” The thought of not watching her sleep makes me instantly sick. To not be near her—or to have someone else watching over her— “Or maybe not.” Blaze leans forward. “Brother, look at me.”
I do and find myself panting. The torture consumes me.
“Listen. I will talk to Morning Star—see if she can find out some answers from Isolde, but you need to leave. You look a bit… extreme. Go to the woods. I will meet you there.”
The vibrations in my body start again. I want to run to Rose, not the woods. I finish my water. “Who is on your route right now?”
“Parker.”
This makes no sense. “Why?”
Blaze shakes his head. “Don’t know, but he has been… accommodating lately. I can only guess it has something to do with Rose because of Isolde’s instructions.”
My eyes close as a wave of Rose’s scent blows through me. I want her.
“Umm, dude. Your fork.”
I look at the utensil in my palm and see it is folded in half.
“Ryder, you need to get out of here before that vein in your forehead explodes. Go. I’ll pay.”
My palm closes, and I get up from the booth without another word. Headed to the front door, I see Rose looking adoringly at Gunner. Jealously rips through me, causing me to slam the door, throw the destroyed fork to the ground, and run before I bring harm to ones I am to protect.
Resting in the tree, I’m forced to watch Gunner wait for Rose on her back porch. After Rose’s shower, I can smell her coming down the stairs. Spring water, magnolias… It actually pains me to know she is coming to sit with another male.
“Have I ever told you how much I appreciate all that you do for me?” Rose says to Gunner with admiration. I break into a sweat.
Gunner cups her face. “I would do anything for you.”
“You would… wouldn’t you?”
Words she had said to me ring through my head. “I’ve missed you… I’ve been calling for you…” My mind goes into overdrive.
“Have you ever wondered why… I don’t have a girlfriend?” Gunner asks Rose.
My heart begs me to do something. But what? Oh, God, I can’t watch this.
“Do you understand now?”
My hands grip the branch. It squeaks in protest.
“I have waited so long for you to see. Rose—”
I cover my highly sensitive ears in a desperate attempt to block Rose out, but her next words steal my breath. “… can I kiss you?”
Energy bursts out of me. Birds take flight from my tree. I feel Hunter and Sage coming up behind me. I can’t look away from what is painfully unfolding in front of me. “We’re here to bring you home, Ryder.” The compassion in Sage’s voice tells me I’m not going to like what is coming next.
Rose’s lips meet Gunner’s. My heart burns. Gunner closes his eyes. Her fingers caress his face, his neck. I lean forward, ready to leap from the tree. Hunter and Sage are up and next to me in a heartbeat. We all easily balance on branches while Hunter grabs my shoulder.
His turquoise eyes glow in the night. “I’m sorry, my friend.” Isolde names many when at birth, and she gave Hunter his name because she said he would have great instincts with animals. Hunter would be able to predict an animal’s next move. His firm hold tells me she was right.
Rose moves to give Gunner another kiss. I can’t swallow. I prepare to jump. “You don’t understand. I have
to stop her—”
“She is the Prophecy,” Sage says quickly.
I stop lunging, gawking at him with disbelief. “Are you sure?”
Sage ties his white hair back. “Words spoken by Isolde.”
The Prophecy—which some of our kind believe to be a myth—is an old legend where I come from. It is said the one born to end the Blood Demons will come. Two bloods of one will bring down the shadows, to cast, no more. My thoughts are interrupted—brutally—when I see Rose wrap Gunner’s arms around her little waist. He eagerly tightens his hold. I jerk forward to leap out of the tree again, but that damn firm grip of Hunter’s restrains me.
I whisper loudly, “Let. Me. Go.”
Sage’s name is believed to mean wise. He was also named well by Isolde. Sage is calm but sorrowful. “Rose is of a bloodline with much interest, Ryder.”
I struggle to be freed. “I understand, but now I don’t have to hold back!”
“Then why did she send us here to retrieve you?” Hunter yanks me back again.
My heart sinks. “Hunter, I don’t think Isolde understands—”
“She understands all, Ryder.”
“But, don’t you see—”
Sage interrupts me. “You are to meet with Isolde promptly.”
“We will guard her, Ryder,” says Hunter in a serious tone. “Go. Isolde wants to see you. Now.”
With much agony, I follow my orders. Climbing down the tree, I can see Rose kissing Gunner in the corner of my eye. I can’t stop my growl.
Running through the woods, I pick up speed with every frustrating thought that demands answers. Sensing adventurous campers daring the deep woods, I take to the trees and travel above their campsite. Soon—only because of my sensitive hearing—I know I’m almost amongst my own in this vast forest. No humans for many miles. The outer rim of my village is dark as night, concealed with nature’s natural life forms. The fire at the center glows, calling me home.
Rain (Stranger in the Woods Book 1) Page 4