Guardian

by Heather Burch

  “You change crushes like Zero changes flash drives,” Vegan said.

  “And who is Raven crushing on? Nikki. It’s pathetic. What do they see in her?” Glimmer’s voice cut like a stiletto blade, each word stabbing harder and deeper into the same wound.

  “She’s a bit of a warrior herself. If I was a guy, I’d like her.” Vegan again.

  “Right up until Satan ushered you into hell. This infatuation with humans is all wrong.”

  “Glimmer’s right.” That one was Winter’s voice, and hearing it made Nikki sink a little deeper into despair. “What Mace is engaging in is dangerous. Deadly dangerous.”

  Nikki thought she heard Vegan sigh. “Maybe Nikki doesn’t know. Maybe she doesn’t realize …” But the girl—Nikki’s supposed friend—held zero conviction in her words.

  “If she loved him, she’d leave.”

  “Glimmer!” Vegan gasped.

  “Well, if he’s too stupid to leave her alone, she should take matters into her own hands.”

  “Winter, surely you don’t agree with this.”

  Long pause. “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t believe you two. We’ve been commissioned by the Throne to protect Nikki. And you would have her leave?”

  “Protect her from what?” Glimmer spat. “Nothing man or demon has made any kind of attempt on her since we all left Missouri. Nothing. Not even a sideways glance from an angry human. Nikki is fine. She just needs to go away for a while.”

  Nikki waited for Vegan to come to her defense again, but no words followed. In Nikki’s heart she knew the other girls agreed. They may not have voiced it, but they thought the things Glimmer dared say. Sorrow wound around her and squeezed.

  She needed to find Will. He’d make sense of all this. He’d remind her in that booming voice filled with years of authority that her safety was vital. Even key to protecting the plan handed down throughout the ages by the Throne. Will put things in perspective by reminding her that what the Halflings were doing was about more than a girl. It was destiny, and it was ordained by a power she could only hope to one day understand. Will made things better … by making her smaller. And right now, that’s exactly what she needed, because the females had made her feel like a giant problem able to wreck both lives and eternities.

  Nikki tiptoed away from the door and headed down the stairs, her heart feeling like a twenty-pound anchor. At the end of the long hall she noticed Ocean just as he entered Will’s room. He hadn’t seen her, so she took her time, putting one measured foot in front of the other. Like a prisoner on death row, each step felt like it was taking her to something she didn’t want to face.

  She started to go inside, but paused. What would she say? Sorry to interrupt you, but I could use a pep talk right now. No. She squared her shoulders while trying to force Glimmer’s harsh words from her head. Ugh. Why do things hurt so much when you aren’t expecting them? She hadn’t planned on being chucked under the bus by the trendy Halfling with the curly bob. A few weeks ago? Sure, Glimmer would have gladly hacked her to pieces with her sharp tongue. But now, they’d become close—a huge mistake on Nikki’s part. Because now there was no defensive shield, no armor, allowing the words to cut right through her.

  Deeper in Will’s room, she heard voices. They must be on the balcony.

  “You can’t sit around like a lifeless rock, Will.” Ocean was standing beside the angel as they both stared out at the sky. “I am not equipped with fear, and yet it grips my heart.”

  “It’s Mace, isn’t it?” At Ocean’s words, Nikki sank to the f loor.

  Silence.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. No, no, no. Please, no.

  “My apprehension about this journey grows exponentially. As time careens toward its conclusion, I know the training of my Lost Boys was inadequate in the most elemental of areas.”

  Ocean shifted his weight. “Will, God was the perfect father, yet Adam still chose sin.”

  “Yes. For a woman.”

  “Mace is strong. In the end, he’ll make the right choice.”

  “It is foolishness to question the Throne’s judgment. But in my heart of hearts, I wish we’d never met Nikki Youngblood.”

  Icy-cold talons seized Nikki. Her mind blackened and the rope around her heart released slowly, leaving her chest empty and hollow.

  Movement was difficult, but she managed to stand and trace her steps back to the staircase. Fingers closed on the railing while she paused. There was nothing else for her to hold on to—no thoughts, no words, no anything. Just emptiness like she’d only felt once before; when a police officer arrived to tell her of her parents’ death.

  Somehow, she made it to her room and locked the door. But the rock walls and high ceiling offered no sanctuary. They loomed, staring at her with accusing eyes.

  Sensei Coble’s voice echoed in her head. “Always find an ally.” But there were none here. Not the females, not Will, certainly not Mace. “And when there is no ally, embrace the universe’s decision to move you. For you will never be left without a companion.”

  Was that it? Was the “universe” moving her? Nikki’d never bought into the spiritualism Sensei Coble subscribed to. She crossed the room and dragged open her top drawer. There, in the corner, her cell phone rested against the clothing she’d purchased with the females. She didn’t want to look at the garments she’d once associated with happiness. She’d allowed the girls to suck her in with the promise of friendship when, really, they wanted her gone. Nikki shoved the clothes away from her cell.

  The slam of the drawer rocked the whole chest, no easy feat for the mammoth block of carved wood. Frustration flew from her fingers as she turned on her cell and stared down at the screen. It blurred. Gah. Stupid, stupid tears. She scraped at her eyes with the palm of her hand while the cell powered up.

  Sixty-six missed calls. All the same number: Damon Vessler. Nikki found the open window and looked out on the rolling landscape. What was she doing here, in this dream turned nightmare? How could she go downstairs and sit at dinner and chat about the day when she knew what they were all thinking? She hit the button to listen to her messages, hoping the phone would work so far from home.

  They were all the same; Damon pleading with her to come home. Hot tears scorched her cheeks as she listened to him speak of her parents’ things. He kept reassuring her everything was safe and sound and in the lower level of his home. Waiting for her.

  He’d set up an art studio for her in one corner. And if she chose, they’d keep everything that belonged to her mom and dad. Each message ended with “Nikki, come home. Please, come home.”

  Four hours later she’d nicked the keys to the Kawasaki, purchased a phone card with some of the “Throne funds” she’d been given, and punched the numbers into a phone in a hotel lobby somewhere in France. She felt slightly guilty for leaving everyone behind, but knew she couldn’t call Damon from her cell. The Halflings didn’t trust him, and to divulge their location would be wrong. If he pressed, she’d tell Damon she was in Europe. But she needed to hear his voice. Needed to see if he still wanted her back, because Glimmer was right about everything. Even about the lack of threats. In the four hours Nikki’d been gone, nothing had happened. No hell hounds, no crazed hate-filled humans. Maybe she wasn’t even in danger anymore. Yet that far-off voice beckoned to her. Something evil would find her. Very, very soon.

  Chapter 18

  Damon?” She cradled the phone for support. “It’s me, Nikki.”

  His words rushed out after a relieved exhale. “Oh, Nikki. I’m so glad you’re all right. Please come home.”

  “I— I don’t know that I should.” What was wrong with her? This was what she wanted, right? But everything in her screamed against it.

  “I have some new information about your parents. If you come back, I’ll go after the guy who killed them. But it’s somewhat costly. I have to know you’re invested. I have to know it matters to you.”

  She hadn’t expected this, and had
to shake her head to sort it out. “You think it wouldn’t matter to me?”

  Through the hotel lobby window, Nikki watched a young man sit down at an outside café. It was an inviting kind of place with streams of vines and flowers flowing from the transom above the doorway.

  “Sweetheart, you ran away. How important could it be?”

  “Damon, I didn’t run away. I was—” What could she say?

  “It doesn’t matter, Nikki. Just come home. We can start fresh.”

  It sounded good, but impossible for her; the wounds she’d suffered were too deep for new starts.

  “I’ve got everything organized downstairs. We need to go through your dad’s things. My whole basement smells like them, you know. I walk down there and expect to see their faces.”

  Her eyes closed in an attempt to remember the scent of her parents. But only unfamiliar smells filled her nose. “I may not be safe.”

  “You’re safe with me, Nikki. I have the best security men in the world. Nothing will hurt you. There’s no demon in hell that can get to you if you’re with me.”

  Was that a hypothetical statement? His voice suggested not.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean there are forces around us that aren’t human. And they can’t be allowed to run rampant. I have in my employ some of the best monster hunters on the planet. You probably think that’s silly, but I’ve traveled the world and I can tell you there are beasts, creatures unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Straight out of the pit and ready to kill. But I know their secrets, Nikki.”

  He laughed. “I’m only divulging this to you so you understand the depth of my commitment to your safety. This is where you belong. Can’t you feel that?”

  She squeezed the phone tighter. She did feel it. She belonged somewhere, surrounded by her parent’s things. Those items were all she had left of them. Didn’t she owe it to them to go back?

  Could Damon really protect her? He certainly sounded like he could. “I guess I could come back long enough to sort through Mom and Dad’s things. But I can’t make any promises after that. And I really have to know I’m safe there.” If today’s journey out alone was any indication, there was nothing to worry about. As long as she didn’t draw, she was fine. Ever since Will had taught her how to recognize when she was tapping into the realm of the spirit and how to avoid it, she’d been strong. She’d learned. What harm could there be in going home for a time? Vessler’s house was safe. And maybe she’d even have time for the wounds—the ones inflicted by Glimmer, Will, and especially Mace—to heal.

  “Where are you, Nikki? I’ll come get you.”

  “Uh.” She couldn’t divulge where she was. No way. Too close to the Rhine Valley, the location of an ancestral home. As angry as she was, she couldn’t rat out the Halflings. But Europe was small, and public transportation could take her anywhere. “I’m in Paris.” She’d hop the train and leave the bike. Later, much later, after she was long gone, she’d get a message to Viennesse about the motorcycle.

  “Uh-huh.” He didn’t believe her, she could tell. “How on earth did you get there?” Other questions drifted in the silence around his words.

  “I climbed aboard a ship.” Not a lie.

  “I’ll charter a jet to get you home. I’ll text you information on which airport. We’ll have to see what’s available on such short notice.”

  Nikki pulled the cell phone from her pocket. “Damon, I’m using a phone card. My cell doesn’t work here.”

  “Yes it does, my lady. I’ve already activated international service on it.”

  Trepidation gnawed in her gut. She ignored it. “Why did you do that? What made you think I’d leave the country?”

  “A hunch. Nikki, promise you won’t run away again.”

  “I didn’t … and I promise.”

  The following day she was home. Or as close to a home she had. She’d gone to sleep on a bed of silk after Damon met her at the door and held her for so long it seemed he’d never let go.

  She’d wanted to go straight to her mom and dad’s things, but he said no. “Sleep, Nikki. Tomorrow morning, we’ll go downstairs together.”

  She woke to the smell of freshly toasted bread and the realization someone had entered her room. She heard their whispered steps and the sound of their breathing, and she sensed them as well. Through her barely opened eyes, Nikki watched Anya, Vessler’s housekeeper, pour a cup of coffee from the silver carafe, dump in a bit of cream and sugar, and stir the concoction vigorously. She breezed out of the room and the door clicked behind her.

  Nikki leaned onto her elbows and stared at the tray of breakfast like it was a snake. Her mouth watered, but something in her begged not to trust what was in front of her. Not to trust any of this.

  She threw the covers back. “That’s ridiculous,” she mumbled and sailed to the tray, taking a bite so big the bread barely fit into her mouth.

  A knock caused her to jump.

  “Come in,” she said in a muffled voice, tongue maneuvering around the half-macerated bread.

  Damon slid the door open. His dark eyes widened, brows raised high. “Glad to see you have your appetite.”

  She swallowed, wished there’d been a little more butter on the toast, and reached for the coffee.

  With a mega-smile, he moved with the fluid motions of a man with years of martial arts training. He paused at the table, reached for the delicate pat of butter, and smeared it on her bread. Another devastating smile as he held it out for her to take a bite.

  She froze. Did he actually expect to feed her? Okay, that ranks pretty high on the creepy, possible-pedophile scale. Her eyes cut from him to the butter-gooed bread, and noticed a stream of spread ran along the edge of the toast. She grabbed it from him and took another bite, making sure she caught the buttery river while stepping a good foot away.

  The air kicked on and Damon’s scent of clean linen and expensive cologne surrounded her. He always smelled so good. She took in the room, the bedroom, and again everything felt wrong. Very, very wrong.

  Damon lifted his hands and bowed. “Forgive me. I know this must seem strange to you, Nicole, but it feels perfectly natural to me. In many ways I feel like you’re my own daughter.” His gold chain twinkled, catching the light in the hollow of his throat where the V of his designer shirt framed his tan neckline.

  His own daughter? Well, that leveled the freak flag, but raised the alarm flag to full mast. “I barely know you,” she uttered. Oops. She’d only meant to think that, not say it.

  “But I know you, my dear. Through your parents, I shared every moment of your life. I know about your first bicycle wreck, your first B on a math assignment.” He led her to the window and opened the curtains wide. Below, on a smaller hillside, her house sat nestled inside the neighborhood of smallish homes where she grew up. “I’ve kept a watch over you. And as long as you’ll let me, I promise to do so forever.”

  Great. Just what she needed right now: another guardian. But this one wasn’t trying to toss her into an epic war, this one wasn’t trying to dictate her life; this one cared simply because he cared.

  “You got a lovely tan on the, uh, ship, was it?”

  She focused on the windowsill. Here it comes. The third degree about where I was and why, and I don’t have a clue how to answer any of it. She steeled herself. “Yes, it was a ship.”

  “The sun agrees with you. I wouldn’t have thought it possible to make you any more beautiful, and yet you are.”

  Uh-huh. “Thanks,” she said, more of a question than an answer. “I guess I should explain.” She pivoted to face him.

  “No, you shouldn’t.”

  “Wha—what?”

  “You’ve nothing to explain to me. You’re an adult now, Nikki. You don’t have to answer to anyone anymore.”

  Huh. She hadn’t thought of that.

  “In fact,” Damon continued, “I forbid it. No talk of where you were and what you were doing.”

  Her eyes narrowed playf
ully. “If I’ve no one to answer to, then how can you forbid it?”

  His smile was slow, alarmingly so, and it caused the blacks of his eyes to twinkle like quartz dazzled by sunlight. “Exactly.” He rested his hands on her shoulders, and with a gentle press urged her to gaze out at the world beyond the window.

  A few houses over, a small boy helped his dad rake leaves while a lady rocked in a porch swing. If Nikki really tried, maybe she could forget all about demons and angels. Maybe, just maybe, Damon Vessler was her one shot at a normal life.

  “Okay,” she agreed, and felt the tips of his fingers throb where they rested lightly against the T-shirt she’d slept in. Why her awareness of his reaction caused alarm, she couldn’t say. She pushed the sensation aside. If Will and Mace and Raven had taught her one thing, it was that she had no right to trust her feelings.

  Tears kept her company as she journeyed through her parents' life. It seemed so strange that her mom and dad could be reduced to a basement full of quiet, lonely objects. What had once brought her joy—seeing the counter filled with a mix of Mom’s baking dishes on a Saturday morning—now only added to her suffering. Those things sat patiently in a cardboard box waiting for her to choose one. But she never would. Nor would her mom ever tap her finger against her chin and say, “Hmm. I think a glass pan will work best for this.” Each item was just an echo of the lives they represented. And echoes became quieter and quieter as time passed.

  Damon had walked her to the foot of the stairs that first morning, but when he reached for the first box, one marked Dale’s Garage, she’d gently placed a hand on his and shook her head.

  He’d understood completely. Damon had nodded, taken a breath so deep she thought he’d pop the buttons on his expensive linen shirt, and given her a quick smile that conveyed more than words. And then he left. Simple as that. She’d once thought Mace understood her, then thought Raven better fit that role. Maybe Damon was the only one who understood her. The only one left, anyway.