It was a remarkably realistic sculpture of a man, an old man with snowy white hair who was on the shorter side. He was wearing a nice caramel-colored suit with shiny expensive shoes. Everything about his appearance was neat and tidy, completely non-threatening, but something about him frightened Isis. There was only one unusual thing about the man: around his eyes was a black blindfold. Isis circled the sculpture, amazed by how extraordinarily life-like it was. She stopped when she was standing in front of it again, wondering what the point and purpose of the blindfold was. It wasn’t even a blindfold. It looked like it was an actual physical part of his visage. She tilted her head, looking the statue up and down.
One of the statue’s arms suddenly shot out and latched onto her arm, jerking her forward and pulling her off balance. Isis let out a cry of pain, feeling like her skin was burning and blistering under his grip. The muscles and bones in her arm felt like they were being compressed and an uncomfortable coldness started to spread throughout her body.
“I’ll find you!” a voice bellowed.
Isis gasped as she jerked awake and crashed to the floor. She fought against the grip that held her, banging into the table. Behind her, the lamp smashed against the ground but Isis ignored it, only focusing on getting away from the blindfolded old man.
When she finally got loose, Isis scrambled backwards, colliding with the wall next to the door. She was breathing harshly and could hear nothing but her heart hammering in her chest. Isis looked around the room and her wide eyes fell on a pile of sheets on the ground. It finally dawned on her that the grip of the old man was just the blankets from her bed. She must have been tossing and turning and gotten tangled up. Isis let out a breathless laugh at her stupidity, running a shaking hand over her sweaty face.
Noticing the sharp shards of glass from the broken light bulb, Isis groaned and raised her eyes to the ceiling. She got to her feet, taking a minute to allow her legs to stop shaking, and then opened the door to her room. Making her way to the kitchen, she could see the sunlight peeking through the blinds. Isis retrieved the broom and dustpan from where she kept them, pausing for a moment when something caught her eye.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered in disbelief as she looked at her upper arm. There were five noticeable red welts ringing around her upper arm, as if someone had scratched her. A shiver crept down her spine, settling in the pit of her stomach. Isis shook it off, chalking it up to paranoia, probably due to all the recent weirdness she had experienced. There were a million rational explanations for the welts. She had always been a violent sleeper and often woke up with small bruises on her legs and arms.
Isis went back to her room and swept up the shards of glass. Once she tossed them in the trash, she moved back into the kitchen and put away the broom and dustpan. As she washed her hands, her gaze wandered toward the windows. Drying her hands with a towel, Isis moved across the space and pulled up the blinds. Outside, she saw two older women speed-walking in colorful clothing. Across the street, a middle-aged man was walking a huge yellow lab that paused to lift a leg on every street lamp. A few empty cars sat in front of the curbs. It was just another average, ordinary day.
Isis turned away from the window and shook her head, chuckling at her overactive imagination. Get a grip, Isis. It was just a damn dream, she thought as she headed back to her bedroom.
But she couldn’t shake the cold feeling that settled in the back of her mind.
*~*~*~*~*
Jet started up his car and checked his mirrors for other cars, deciding that it would be unwise to approach the young woman today. He didn’t even know what he’d say. Anything he thought of made him sound like a lunatic. She was safe . . . for the time being. He couldn’t wait for much longer though.
He pulled out of the parking space and headed for the mansion.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was always peaceful in the lands of the Meadows, home of the guardians; god-like beings who watched over the Earth and kept things running smoothly. The only way to enter the lands was through Appearing, an ability possessed only by the guardians and a few select shape shifter families.
The Meadows were divided into two main territories and each guardian chose at a young age which one they would call home. The two regions were separated by an enormous span of mountains. Each territory was further divided into smaller realms, corresponding to the different elements.
Jet’s clear blue eyes traced over the mountains on the map that currently held his attention. He was in the Pearl Castle, home to the royal line of guardian women. The ancient map was enormous, covering almost an entire wall. It was a detailed image of the lands of the guardian women, as recorded by the first guardians. Vast fields of golden grass surrounded the Pearl Castle, which stood in the exact center of the women’s territories. To the east were the realms of the guardians of fire, day, and light, which were symbolized with plenty of warm and bright colors. To the south there was an endless span of blue water, branching off in many different directions and traveling through almost all the lands. That was the aquatic home of the water guardians. To the north of the castle were the lush green lands of the plant and nature guardians. Jet’s eyes wandered next to the gentle slope of dark hills, home of the night guardians.
He turned around, glancing down the quiet marble halls. The Meadows had always been a second home to Jet. Most shape shifters were intimidated by the guardians and part of Jet and Lilly’s job was to act as a liaison between the guardians and the protectors. Jet had been introduced to the guardians at a very young age and so was accustomed to their ways. Many of them were like a second family to him, including the women of the royal line.
Jet twisted a little when he thought he heard footsteps behind him, letting out a breath of relief when he saw it was only a messenger. The chaotic sounds of the first floor drifted up to the third, where the living quarters of the royal line were located. The first and second floors were used for a variety of reasons — such as meetings or just when the guardians wanted to mingle with each other. For the most part, they communicated using messengers. The messengers rarely ever spoke, only doing so in dire emergencies. It was their job to care for the plant and animal life in the Meadows, as well as the guardians. They gathered and prepared food and drink, tended the lands, cleaned and decorated the castles, and did various other everyday things. They wore the colors of whatever land they were from, but only in pastel or muted shades. The bright dramatic shades were only for official guardians and their apprentices and heirs to wear. When he was younger, Jet had been frightened of the messengers. He found their silence rather spooky.
This is absolutely ridiculous, Jet thought, frustrated. He had come to the Pearl Castle to see Passion’s daughter, Electra, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock on her door. He wasn’t even in the right hallway yet. Dropping his hands to his hips, Jet mentally berated himself for being such a coward. There was no turning back at this point. He had to do this, whether he wanted to or not. Once, just once, would it kill her to not be so damn obstinate? Jet thought as he remembered the exchange he’d had with Passion outside the apartment building.
“Jet!”
Jet turned just in time to have Electra leap into his arms, embracing him. Though she was slender and a couple inches shorter than him, she still almost knocked Jet over in her enthusiasm. He smiled as he hugged her, brushing some of her flowing dark hair behind her shoulder. Electra was nothing short of lovely and had a charming personality. At twenty-eight, she had already received plenty of offers for courtship from younger guardian men and a few women. Usually that didn’t start until guardians reached at least their seventies. Electra had not accepted any offers, but she had already taken a few lovers. Older guardians would have frowned upon a young guardian having sex outside of official courtships and unions, but Electra knew how to keep her personal life private. It was a useful skill that Passion had taught her long ago and Electra herself had taught it to many of the guardians who were her age.
&nb
sp; Electra was still smiling as she pulled back from the embrace, although Jet could see something akin to worry deep in her sparkling hazel eyes. Her eyes were very expressive and often changed color, a rare trait she had inherited from her mother. She had gotten most of her looks from Passion, as well.
“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Electra stated, her tone happy and upbeat. She was more of an optimist than her mother, but she was still young.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Jet apologized, frowning as he studied her. “Are you all right? You look a little flushed.”
He had known Electra her entire life, had even been present at her birth, and over the years he had developed a familial attachment to her. As he looked at her, Jet couldn’t believe how fast the years had gone by. It seemed like only yesterday he held a tiny infant in his arms and now she was a fully grown adult woman, with the makings of a great guardian.
Electra smiled in a mischievous way and brushed some hair behind her ear. “I was just . . . working out.”
Jet chuckled. “I see.”
Electra glanced over at the map he had been looking at moments earlier. “I’ve always loved this. It’s really amazing that we still have such beautiful relics from our ancestors. To think, Betha actually helped create this map when the Meadows first came into being.”
Jet swallowed and looked around again. “Is your mother here?”
“Not in the castle,” Electra replied. “She’s swimming in the aquatic realm. My guess is she won’t be back for some time. Would you like me to send a messenger for her?”
“Ah no, no that won’t be necessary,” Jet said, thanking his lucky stars for the break. “Would you like to go for a walk, Electra? There are some important matters that I need to discuss with you and I know you hate being stationary for too long.”
Electra nodded and followed him toward the main stairway. “Jet, you’re being really mysterious. Should I be concerned?”
Jet swallowed and continued to lead the way down the stairs, pretending as though he hadn’t heard her. He wanted to avoid talking until they got outside. The last thing he needed was to be the cause of a scene in the Pearl Castle.
It seemed to take forever, but Jet and Electra finally reached the outer gardens of the Pearl Castle. Once they were outside, Electra skipped forward so that she was standing on Jet’s left and kept pace with him.
“Where’s Lilly?” Electra asked, looking around for her. It was very rare for the two to be separated, especially when they visited the Meadows. Lilly was co-leader of the protectors and she always attended meetings with Jet and accompanied him on any trips they had to take. Jet had asked her to come with him, but she told him it was something he had to do on his own, whether or not he realized it.
“She’s at home, dealing with some matters that required attention,” Jet answered as he looked down the winding path that led out of the gardens. “I needed to speak with you privately and it couldn’t wait.”
“Well, I certainly hope you’re not here to ask me to be your mistress. Many still haven’t forgiven you for corrupting the youngest and loveliest daughter of Viridia,” Electra teased, reaching down and grabbing a small red flower that had fallen off one of the many plants in the vast gardens. She placed it behind her ear and continued to keep up with Jet. They strode past a few stone benches and a couple messengers who were working in the gardens.
Jet laughed at the jest and glanced over at some Siroi lilies that grew nearby. They were his favorite flower and one that his wife used to watch over back when she had been a guardian.
“I really wish you’d just tell me what’s on your mind,” Electra commented, pulling Jet out of his thoughts.
“I will,” Jet promised as they continued down the path that led away from the Pearl Castle. Once they had exited the castle grounds, Jet let Electra choose which path to go down. He already knew which direction she would pick: the one that led to the woodland realm, the realm she loved most apart from her home.
Walking down the path, the air had a sweet woodsy scent as they approached the vast forests. Jet looked over at Electra, still thinking about what exactly to say. The thought of hurting her broke his heart and he knew she would be hurt by what he revealed. Birds merrily chirped about them as a soft breeze rustled through the tree limbs. The bright afternoon sun shone down from above, glistening in Electra’s dark brown hair. A green glint caught Jet’s eye and he noticed she still wore the shamrock necklace the guardian Emerald had given her on the day of her birth.
“Electra, what do you know about the Four?” Jet finally asked. Electra shrugged as they continued down the path, grabbing a hanging twig and fiddling with it.
“Only what you and Mom have told me,” she responded. “There are supposedly four shape shifter women who will save the guardians and other innocents from some unknown threat. Why do you ask?”
“It’s part of the reason why I came here to see you,” Jet explained, holding his hands behind his back. “I need your help to retrieve one of the Four, possibly the most important one.”
Electra frowned, confused. “Why would you need my help approaching a protector?”
Jet swallowed and stopped walking. Electra took a few steps more before turning back to look at him, a questioning look on her face.
“Electra, there’s something you have to know about this particular shape shifter,” Jet began, feeling more unsure than he had in quite a while. Electra turned her whole body so that she was facing him fully and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting patiently.
“Yes?” she said after a moment when Jet didn’t continue. A breeze suddenly swept through the grasses, brushing through her silky hair. Jet looked at her for a moment, rubbing the back of his head. Her kind eyes were almost painful to look at.
“The shape shifter — she’s part guardian,” Jet explained. Electra scrunched up her nose a little, obviously not believing him.
“Jet, that’s not possible,” Electra replied with a laugh. “Sacred law forbids romantic relationships between shape shifters and guardians. There hasn’t been a hybrid in ages.”
Jet nodded. “That’s true, which is why this particular shape shifter has no idea of her heritage or that we even exist.”
“That is ludicrous. How could she not know what she is?” Electra asked, picking at the twig she still held.
“Part of her mother’s punishment for breaking one of the Sacred Laws was that one of her two daughters had to be given up to be raised as a human,” Jet answered as he turned his gaze out over the beautiful fields of golden grass. His sharp ears could faintly pick up the distant sounds of water.
“Okay, so why not ask for the help of her mother or her . . .” Electra trailed off and Jet looked back to her. For a few moments, she was silent as she stared at him, her face unreadable. Then she began shaking her head slowly. Jet took a step forward, pausing when she stepped back and held up a hand. He waited for her to speak, knowing that there was nothing more he could say at the moment.
“Wait, this doesn’t make sense. She would’ve said something,” Electra started, her brow creasing as she tried to figure out what he was telling her. Jet watched her sympathetically, wishing he could prepare her for the next blow.
“It’s not an easy time for her to remember,” he said. She looked at him, her expression reflecting the conflicted feelings she was experiencing.
“Is it you?” she asked. Jet tilted his head, unsure what she meant, and it suddenly dawned on him what she was asking.
“Is it . . .? Oh, no. No, I’m not your father,” he replied with a small shake of his head. Electra frowned and shifted her weight a little. He could tell that she didn’t know how to feel about his answer.
“Do you know who he is?” she asked, meeting his gaze again. Jet nodded, looking off into the forest.
“I do,” he said. She watched him, waiting for him to elaborate. He gathered his nerve and turned his gaze back to her.
“Electra, I need yo
ur word that you’ll let me explain after I tell you,” Jet stated. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground and wished more than anything that Passion had heard him out. Going behind her back was killing him, but he had to do it. Electra seemed to glow against the dark brown tree trunks behind her. Though her face remained unreadable, Jet could see fear hidden within her eyes even as she nodded in agreement. Her slender fingers drifted up to her chest and she began to toy with the charm at her throat.
“Fine,” she replied, her voice steely.
Jet hesitated for a moment. “His name was Roan Deverell.”
The color drained from Electra’s face and she took a step back, shaking her head. “Jet, it can’t be. Please, tell me that it isn’t.”
Jet stepped closer to her, wishing he could offer some comfort to the young guardian. Electra shook her head and looked as though she were going to be sick.
“How could she?” Electra murmured, sounding lost and confused. Every guardian and shape shifter knew the story of Roan Deverell. The Deverells were one of the most respected protector families in the world; many of them were recalled in legends as great heroes. Roan was different, going against the Deverell lineage to become one of the most feared assassins ever. They knew he was responsible for at least fifteen deaths and undoubtedly many, many more. Most protectors still refused to speak his name and he had become their equivalent to the humans’ boogieman. He had disappeared long ago, leaving a legacy of blood and pain in his wake. A legacy the rest of the Deverells were still trying to clean up.
“She didn’t know, Electra,” Jet replied as he leaned against the tree next to her. “She had run away from the Meadows and met him in a park. From what I understand, she fell in love and was prepared to stay on Earth with him. But then, she realized what he was, witnessed his cruelty, and she returned to the Meadows.”
Electra slid down the tree so that she was sitting on the ground and brought her knees up to her chest. Like all guardians, Electra knew about the power of words. However, she probably never thought that her entire life could be altered with nothing more than a few sentences. As she ran her hands down her face, Jet sat next to her, waiting for her to speak again.
Sere from the Green (The Shape Shifter Chronicles Book 1) Page 7