Personal Guardians

by Rachel A. Collett

  Strong arms snaked under my knees and behind my shoulders, lifting my weak body with ease. I heard another door, the secret door into my chambers, click closed as Fiona carried me into the bathroom where Elisa waited. Arms stretched, Elisa received me, standing me up on wobbly legs. Eyebrows furrowed; worry pulled at her features.

  “Laith,” I croaked. He had gone after the demon and hadn’t returned. “He—”

  “He’s fine,” she said, studying my face. “He’s with a large group of security ensuring the demon is gone and searching for any missing members.”

  I breathed in relief.

  Elisa lifted my soiled nightshirt, leaving my pendant on, and removed my underthings. For a brief moment, I wondered if I should be embarrassed by my nudity, but no—I couldn’t care less, not anymore. They had saved my life.

  They guided me into the bathtub. The smell of oils and herbs enlivened my senses. Pouring water onto my head, Fiona rubbed shampoo into my hair. Her fingers massaged my scalp, alleviating the painful drumming inside my head. Elisa called helpers to clean my bloodied linens and clothes.

  Fiona laughed behind me. “You’ve stirred excitement into this compound that the residents haven’t seen in years, if ever, my niece.”

  “Your niece?” I asked, opening my eyes, my vision clearing, but Fiona didn’t answer.

  Elisa returned, sitting on the edge of the tub. She handed me a wash cloth. I hesitated, afraid to know, to see the damage from the demon assassin.

  Sensing my hesitation, Elisa smiled encouragingly. “Don’t worry, Ava. Look at it. You are healed. You are fine.”

  My heartbeat intensified as I prepared myself for what I could only guess I would find from the demon’s deadly blade, but while blood caked my shoulder and chest, no repulsive ruin of flesh marred my vision. I gaped at the smooth skin.

  “I can heal you. Bind your wounds and mend your broken bones, but I cannot siphon the blood from your body. That you must wash off.” I could hear the laughter in Fiona’s voice as I further examined myself. Relief flowed over me like a balm.

  “How did you do it?” I asked, turning in my bathwater to Fiona, who only dumped a cup of water on my head to wash out the suds. I coughed and sputtered through the downpour.

  “Just like you are the Defender, and Elisa is a Herald—I am a Healer. It is my calling,” she said simply.

  “Thank you,” I said, but Fiona only shrugged.

  “You didn’t need me to heal you, but because this was a wound from a demon, the healing wouldn’t have been instant. It would have taken several days and it would have been painful.”

  Confusion pulled at my brows as I processed this new piece of information. I began washing.

  “Why did you call me your niece?” I asked, as she rung out the water from my hair.

  “Your mother, Elisa, and I came from the same father, the same mother—not born of mortal man. You are of the same mold. You are Rachel Matthias’s daughter—therefore, my niece.

  “Why haven’t you called me that before, Elisa?”

  Elisa shrugged. “You’re not our niece in the way most humans understand it. In an eternal sense, I suppose. There is so much to tell you, Ava, so much to show you, but you didn’t exactly handle this knowledge well in the beginning. Our story has been in the works since time began. It’s hard to know what information to give you first, which is why Laith and I wanted to wait until the council had met before we shared too much. We needed direction. Help.”

  “But I want to know it all. Now,” I demanded, before a comb smacked me on top of my head.

  I called out, rubbing the spot with my finger. Fiona pushed my hand to the side, combing roughly through my wet tresses.

  “What’s there to know? You are the Defender. You are a warrior. You are in charge of defending humanity from their demons. You must prepare to serve your purpose. But I have a feeling that for you, the battle has already begun.” She tapped my forehead with her finger. “In here.”

  It was not the warm water of my bath that drew heat into my cheeks. “What do you mean?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

  There came a loud knock on my bedroom door and my heart leaped within my chest. I wrapped my body into a ball.

  “Demons don’t knock, Ava,” Fiona whispered in my ear, chuckling softly.

  “Come in,” Elisa called out at the same time.

  Madelyn entered carrying a tray of three large mugs, their contents breathing thick steam into the air. Thankfully she knew to keep her gaze away from me in my bathwater.

  “Thank you, Madi.” Elisa stood, receiving the tray from the cook and setting it on my bathroom counter.

  “Everyone has been woken, my lady. We will convene in the library in thirty minutes.”

  “Perfect,” said Elisa.

  “Look at your beautiful belly, Madelyn.” Fiona hummed, placing a hand on the cook’s abdomen. “Gerald must be so proud.”

  “Indeed. Welcome back, my lady Healer. You have been missed.”

  Fiona nodded. “I have missed my people as well.”

  “And we are grateful our lady Defender is safe,” Madelyn added, still averting her eyes.

  “Thank you, Madi,” I said, before she exited the room with the tray.

  “So, everyone has heard,” Elisa mumbled, watching the cook’s retreating form. She went to my closet in search of something for me to wear.

  “Of course.” Fiona finished her combing. “And they deserve all the answers we can give them. Obviously, the more information we can gather the better.” She rose, grabbing a towel and handing it to me.

  My mind swam as I dried from my bath. Elisa and Fiona sipped on their mugs of hot chocolate. I eyed the cups eagerly. Despite having just been stabbed by a terrifying demon, I was gratified by how amazing I felt. But how had that demon come to be in my room?

  While Elisa and Fiona waited for me to change inside my closet, I wondered about what I could tell them without confessing everything. I couldn’t tell them about Jonathan. Not yet. Not before getting all the information about the Annihilator I needed and how to kill her. She was the reason both of my parents were dead. She had to die.

  At last, I took a taste of the dark liquid, gratified by the sweet chocolate that seeped into my stomach and calmed my nerves. Fiona was examining the shattered window when I entered the room. The early morning breeze blew through her unrestrained hair and rustled her nightgown around her ankles. Elisa leaned casually against my dresser. Moving closer, I saw light flash upon steel and I froze. Three knives lay side by side in a row upon my freshly made bed: my father’s knife, a long deadly dagger, and a rusted old blade. My head twitched as I made the connection to what was about to happen.

  I set my mug down next to theirs, no longer craving its sweetness, and stared at Elisa. Sweat gathered upon my brow as I waited for her to ask the question I knew was coming.

  “Ava, do you have anything you would like to share before we meet with the council?”

  I swallowed hard.

  5

  The council meets

  Whoever had cleaned up the mess from the attack must have found the knife I had kicked from view of Laith and Elisa the previous night. I walked to my bedside, picking up my own weapon, ignoring the others. For a precious moment, the black molded rubber grip of the tactical blade soothed my nerves, until I remembered the way it had felt when the steel sliced into the demon’s flesh and hit the bones of his ribs.

  “This one is mine,” I said. Hands shaking, I folded it and slid it into my pocket. “It was a gift from my dad.” And a well-deserved one, at that.

  “And the others?” Elisa coaxed, urging me to continue.

  I sighed heavily. Taking up the impressive weapon now wiped clean from my blood, I weighed it in my hand, gripping it both in my left and my right.

  “Truly marvelous,” I breathed, as I stroked the twisted, black handle wrapped with a silver wire inlay—the nickel-plated steel guard and pommel. Etchings of sprawling
ivy fell down the razor-sharp blade, the intricate designs ending at the tip. And a smile tugged at my lips. This weapon had been the demon’s treasure, his favored dagger—a fitting tool for an assassination. And now his treasure was my token.

  “This is from the demon that attacked me tonight,” I said, setting it back upon the bed.

  Picking up the last knife, I examined the plain brown handle and long blade. Even as old and tarnished as it was, it could be a decent knife if properly restored. “And this I knocked out of the hand of a woman that visited me last night—a rather old demon.”

  “Last night?” Elisa’s sharp tone was harsher than I had expected. I internally shrunk from her hardened gaze.

  Fiona left the window and crawled to the center of my bed, a look of calm patience written upon her features. “Could you please elaborate, my Ava?”

  And so I did. Leaving out the detail of my dream with Jonathan, I rehearsed all that had happened the night before, as well as what I remembered from the attack. Elisa’s expression remained a steely calm, but I could sense much more brewing beneath the surface. Fiona, on the other hand, seemed almost bored.

  “Are you sure she was old?” Elisa eyeballed the rusted blade.

  I gave her a pointed look. “I am positive, Elisa. Old and frail.” I allowed my finger to trail the dulled metal. If the demon’s knife had failed to kill me, the tetanus it would have inflicted had a decent chance of finishing the job.

  “But how do you know the old woman was a demon?” she asked, still skeptical.

  Pulling my chain from under my blouse, I exposed my mother’s black stone. “Because it warned me.”

  Fiona hummed, moving to the edge of my bed. A curious smile grew upon her lips. “The Demon’s Eye. I’m surprised your father actually gave it to you.”

  I shook my head, guiltily. “He didn’t give it to me. I found it when I was twelve and kept it. I have worn it ever since. I’m sure he realized I had taken it at some point, but he never said anything.”

  “No, I wouldn’t expect him to. Your father hated that stone. Hated the burden she wore.” Fiona placed a hand over the inky blackness of the pendant. “But she never saw it as a burden.”

  “It warned you?” Elisa observed the object warily.

  “Yes.” But I paused. “Well—it did, but not as strongly as it has in the past. It was sort of… late.”

  “So, the demon was old,” Fiona mumbled. “And by the sound of it, not very strong anymore. Interesting.”

  “Why would you doubt me, Elisa?” I tried not to sound hurt but failed.

  “I’m sorry, Ava, but demons rarely choose to infiltrate the body of an older person unless that human is extremely special. Supernaturally powerful, perhaps. Even then, it is rare. Demons love power—physical power more than anything else.”

  “Supernatural power?” I asked, but Elisa only smiled. “And wait. Did you say an extremely special human—not immortal?”

  “As I said before, there is a lot to tell you,” Elisa said with a half-smile. “But this is something we must introduce you to slowly.”

  When I was about to argue, Fiona interrupted my thoughts. “Has it spoken to you yet?” Her voice was barely a whisper, her hand still hovering over the Demon’s Eye.

  “Why would it speak to me?” I asked, shocked by such a question. I peered down at the onyx stone, suddenly afraid I would see an actual eye watching me. Nothing stared back.

  Fiona looked to Elisa, her brows pinched, her mouth pulled down into a frown. “I assume you haven’t told her of the power Ava wears on that simple chain around her neck.”

  Elisa’s face reddened. “You are the one that should teach her that. It was you Rachel confided in. She told you of its powers, not me.”

  “Because I wasn’t afraid of it.” Fiona tsked, turning from her sister. “I’m ashamed of you, Elisa. Your fear of the Eye is misplaced. It is a tool. A blessing.” She touched the stone with her index finger, her head angled to the side, as if waiting for the charm to respond. When nothing happened, she dropped her hand. “Ava, the Demon’s Eye was a gift from God to the Defender, your mother. It is a very powerful stone. No one really knows what all it can do, but Rachel swore to me that it had begun to speak to her.”

  “It hasn’t said anything to me,” I said. Or had it?

  Come.

  Shivers erupted along my spine as I remembered a voice calling to the assassin demon. No. I shook my head, rejecting the possibility. That was the last thing I needed.

  “But it opened when I stabbed the demon.”

  “Yes,” Fiona said. “It would have sensed the demon’s blood and fear. It opened to claim his soul, forever locking him inside.”

  “There are demons in here?” I stared down upon the stone.

  “That stone was once a brilliant white, but as time went by and more souls of darkness were taken in, the stone darkened to gray, and even quicker, black. It became Rachel’s talisman and a warning to all her foes.”

  The weight of the necklace pulled heavier against my neck. I could feel each link of the chain as I tucked the pendant back under my shirt.

  Elisa sighed in relief when it disappeared. “You should have come to us about the first demon, immediately.”

  I shrugged, picking up both knives from my bed. “I’m used to doing things by myself. Figuring them out on my own.” My father had taught me the art of self-reliance. Not only that, he had stopped listening to my nightmares and fears when I was just a child, refusing to believe they were of any great importance. And because I had no one else to turn to, I learned to deal with them.

  “So, that’s what your questions were about yesterday,” Elisa mused, but I only shrugged.

  I went to my nightstand and opened the top drawer. Inside laid my other trophy—a gift from my parking lot assailant. The lovely ivory hilt of his switchblade bore the initials C.W. Good old C.W. I wonder how he’s doing, I thought with a smile, aligning his new friends in a row, one right next to the other. Each weapon I had gained in combat, and all were now mine.

  “You keep souvenirs. That’s interesting,” Fiona said, watching me put away my treasures. Her gaze went to the frame on top of the nightstand, to the sketch of my mother, and she sighed. “Your mother was so beautiful.” Wistfully, she picked up the drawing. “Ava, you’re no longer alone, you know. Not anymore. Is it safe to assume that from now on, you will seek the council of your family and your Guardian?”

  My head jerked, shocked by Fiona’s question. “My father is dead,” I stated simply. Surely the Healers would have been informed of that by now. My father was murdered, my mother years before—and I was alone.

  Fiona’s wild eyes narrowed, confusion clear in them. Setting the frame back on the nightstand, she watched me with concern. “Yes, of course. Forgive me, my dear. I meant—”

  “Fiona is right, Ava,” Elisa interrupted, impatience marring her tone. “You do have family now, family that loves you. Do you understand?”

  Did I understand?

  I peered down at the sketch of my mother and my heart tugged. I took in the shape of her eyes and every freckle drawn across her cheeks. Some of my features were hers. The rest were my father’s. Once, I ached for a larger family. For a brother, a sister, a mom. But now—I ached to have back the one man that, for the longest time, was my world.

  I glanced at the two women in my room, my lady Herald and Healer, so different from what I imagined sisters to be. Could these immortals really be my family? Elisa, Laith, and now Fiona. My head reeled with the possibility I had always hoped for, but despite my growing sentiments, I responded with a simple nod.

  “Wonderful.” Fiona clapped her hands; the sound ricocheted off the empty walls of my room. She spun on her bare heels and strode toward the door. “If you will excuse me, I think I’ll change before the meeting begins.”

  “It starts in five minutes,” Elisa called after her.

  “I won’t be long,” Fiona answered with a wave of her hand. My b
edroom door clicked closed.

  “She’s never on time,” Elisa mumbled under her breath. “I’ll be honest with you, Ava. What you’ve just told me—this is not good news. I’m not sure how everyone will respond, but no matter what happens, I need you to stay calm.”

  “I’m always calm,” I answered with a snap.

  Elisa huffed a laugh. Her eyebrow rose as she observed me. “Right. Sorry, I must have forgotten.” She escorted me from my room. The tension rolled from her shoulders as we walked side by side. When we got to her room, she paused. “I need to discuss this with Laith. I should probably change too.”

  “Elisa,” I stopped her before she closed the door. “Would—would you sketch a portrait of my father as well?”

  The tension melted from her face, the touch of a smile on her lips. She reached, pulling me into her arms and I willingly allowed her to hug me. “Of course I will, Ava.” She released me. “I’ll meet you in the library in five minutes.” She closed the door behind her and left me in the hallway by myself, but this time, I didn’t feel so alone.

  Family. I took a deep breath. If anything, Elisa and Laith were my best friends. I should have warned them yesterday, but at the time, I thought there was a chance I had let the old demon in. However, if what they said was true, that a demon could only enter with an invitation, how had Jonathan come into the compound on the first night at my new home? Obviously there was more to this than even they knew.

  Before rounding the corner to the great room, I halted my steps upon hearing hushed voices. Fiona’s deep accent caught my attention, but it was further grasped by Darius’s angry response.

  “It is not for you to tell, Fiona,” he growled.

  I wasn’t a snooper by nature, but the urgency of the conversation was enough to know that the information was sensitive—and I was in search of sensitive information. Scooting as close to the edge as I could without being seen, I strained to hear their exchange.

  “You are keeping too much from her, Darius. We all are. Ava is a grown woman and has the right to know. You’re being foolish, as always.”