by Lexi Ostrow
She nodded slowly, unsure if committing to that was even remotely wise.
“You’re special. There are things in this world that people don’t know about, people that they don’t know about. For eons, a group of humans has been born with, well, powers.” He scrunched his face as if he wasn’t fond of the word choice but continued. “They’re called Word Speakers, and they’re gifted with the ability to pull characters from novels. Characters they connect with on a soul level.”
She heard the blood rush in her ears with all the force of a waterfall crashing onto rocks. Of course, a stunningly handsome man would come out of nowhere, appear to know her and be absolutely certifiably insane.
“There’s a reason for it though. They’re warriors in a prophesized battle that could lead to the end of mankind or its salvation.” He narrowed his crystalline eyes as if begging her to not question him. “Believe what you wish, but you are one such human, and I am what is known as a Guardian. A character pulled from a book to protect you and fight alongside you if need be.”
He paused, and she realized it was her turn to speak, but what could she say in response to such a ridiculous story?
“And you would be?”
He looked puzzled. Clearly, the last thing he had an anticipated was for her to play along. Which she was only doing until she could accurately calculate how quickly she could lean sideways, grab her tazer, use it on him and get the fuck out of there. She was likely hallucinating, and none of this was happening, but just in case, it was time to make an exit.
“Alcott Hayes. Witch extraordinaire, second time Guardian and overall not too thrilled with life right now.”
If she didn’t know it was impossible, she would have sworn she felt her eyes bug out of her head. She knew she was staring wide-eyed at him, and she knew someone was playing an elaborate trick on her. What she didn’t know was why. Grabbing for her purse once more, she pushed off the ground and rooted through it for the weapon.
“Kellie, stop. You can’t call the police.”
“That’s so not what I was going to do.” She breathed heavily as she pulled the tazer out and leveled it at him. As much as she wanted to pull the trigger, she couldn’t seem to focus beyond what was happening just behind the man claiming to be a book character.
“Fucking hell, you can’t do that either. Listen to me. Just let me explain a little further, and then if you’re still not convinced or think I’m a nut case, I can call in backup.” Wisps of fire appeared as if out of nowhere and covered his arms. “This is witch fire. Do you remember reading about it?”
She nodded slowly, cautiously. Witch fire was, of course, fictional. Wicca was based on the belief of energy and manipulating it for pure reasons. What she was seeing was clearly some Hollywood effect. Plenty of shows and movies filmed in the Quarter, and she was fairly certain The Originals made excellent use of such theatrics.
“Brother, long time no see,” a decadently deep voice purred as a man stepped literally out of thin air.
Kellie felt her heart cease to beat for a single moment, and then she was on her feet, depressing the button on the tazer and flinching as the man began to hiss. His blue eyes landed on hers.
“Cal?” she whispered in reverence of what she was thinking.
With effort, he jerked the prong from his shoulder and dropped it to the ground so quickly that it tore the tazer from her hand. His lips twisted in a sickeningly charming grin — the same she’d pictured he might have if he were real.
“My, you’ve picked a smart one. Much older this time I see.” The man who resembled another character from Alcott’s book stepped forward.
The ground shook beneath them, and Kellie panicked, ducking beneath a table and watching in astonishment as nothing around her moved. The metal tables remained solidly in place and powder sugar dust didn’t kick up like snow. She knew what she was feeling.
“I had never dreamed you’d find your way out a second time,” Alcott, or the man who was acting as the character, said as he walked toward his book brother. “I never truly wished to kill you, and I still do not. Leave, and do not find yourself tempted by the man in Leather again.”
Cal’s laughter rang out and sent goose bumps over her skin, despite the humid summer day. Fire broke out over his body — the flames leaping dangerously toward his blond hair but doing no damage.
“Sorry, Alcott. Freedom means too much.” Raising his hands, he threw the fire at the other man.
Alcott growled, a deep unsettling sound. Launching himself at the only other person not frozen, his brother gave a startled grunt just before crashing to the ground.
Terrified, Kellie tucked her legs against her chest and put her hands over her ears in an attempt to drown out the sounds of chaos mere feet from her. “It’s not real. It’s an elaborate trick. Hayley found two sexy actors and used her parents’ money to play some ridiculous prank,” she whispered, not even caring if the two psychotic men could hear. “It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.”
A hand touched her shoulder, and she punched out, eyes still closed, only to find her hand grasped inside a gentle fist.
“Open your eyes.”
Alcott’s gentle voice floated over to her. Cautiously, she did as he commanded and nearly gasped. Cal was gone, and the world was moving again. As quickly as it had been silenced, the clatter of dishes and laughter of people enjoying beignets assaulted her ears once more. Determination and something that might have been concern shone out of Alcott’s eyes as he offered her his hand.
“No one else can see me. I do not think it is wise to stay here, and neither does the man who is in charge.”
She wanted to shout at him, to scream at the insanity of the things that had just transpired.
“Miss, are you okay?” A server poked a concerned face down to her level.
“I, I’m sorry. I thought I dropped something under the table. I must have been mistaken.” Shaken, she forced herself to ignore Alcott’s hand and climb out from under the table. She looked at her food, barely touched on the plate, and felt bile rise in her throat.
“I have to get out of here,” she said, not caring if the server or Alcott thought she was insane. She was, wasn’t she? Stumbling, she worked her way through the crowded terrace seating, doing her best to not look at Alcott.
“That is a smart choice, but I suggest that you not walk as if the devil is trailing you. I suspect, even in New Orleans, someone will take note if you run through the streets.”
She was breathing in short choppy breaths, trying to navigate across Decatur and into Jackson Square, despite her blurred vision and terror. Nothing made sense, and the fact that not one person seemed to acknowledge Alcott when they smiled at her made everything that much more difficult.
“Kellie stop!” Alcott shouted.
His warning saved her. A car raced past, honking and shouting some sort of curse she couldn’t quite hear. Without thinking, she ran the rest of the way across the street and turned to look at him.
“You saved me.”
“It is what I am meant to do. I’m a Guardian, Kellie, and you are a Word Speaker. Take me some place private, and I promise to explain everything.”
Chapter Three
There was nothing about the current situation that actually appealed to him. Well, except for maybe Kellie. He looked sideways at her and couldn’t help but feel a swell of lust — the Guardian connection. He’d never really understood why he hadn’t felt anything for Ciara until it had grown over the course of their relationship. He assumed it was just another sign he hadn’t truly been the perfect match. Well then, at least you’re off to a better start. Minus her trying to electrocute you or some shit.
He looked at Kellie again. She undeniably beautiful, and he rather liked the colorful stripes in her hair. He groaned as a purely carnal image flashed into his mind of Kellie’s streaked hair fanned out over his stomach as she took him into her mouth. He shook his head, grateful she didn’t turn to look at him because of the m
oan.
She walked beside him, her footsteps a little too quick for a person just moving to and from a place. He couldn’t blame her though. Her world had been rocked. Even Ciara had blacked out — twice — when she had learned what was occurring to her.
There was something rather charming about the French Quarter. He wasn’t certain of what just yet, but as they turned onto Royal Street, he couldn’t help whistling at the sight before him.
They were clearly at the stretch where she lived because she’d fished a key out of the giant purse she was carrying. As she stopped in front of a quaint little building, he couldn’t help but realize the amount of money she must have — or had at one point. Alcott’s knowledge of New Orleans consisted only of what his author had written for him and the little he’d learned from the internet while guarding Ciara. He took in the imposing white structure and the beautiful Mary statue in front of it that indicated she lived near the famous Saint Louis Cathedral. Even in daylight, he couldn’t mistake the splendor of the church. The antiquities shop he could see just down the street appeared as expensive as the boutique on the corner seemed kitschy.
“Not that I want to look like some garden variety New Orleans drunk talking to myself, but are you coming in?” Kellie practically snapped without turning to face him.
Her voice jerked him out of his stupor before he could continue taking in the area. “People aren’t paying any attention to you speaking to the air,” he said with a smirk. “But, yes, if you’re inviting me in, I think that would be ideal since we are not finished talking.”
As he spoke, she turned, walked down a small side alley and went up a set of stairs. He followed, taking the steps two at a time to keep up. The amount of money Kellie had washed over him once again as he stepped into the condo. It was by far larger than anything he would have imagined with her working as a secretary.
Abundant light filtered into the large space, washing the room in a warm glow. Exposed wooden beams lined the ceiling, and he could see at least two hallways leading from the main room, as well as a picturesque balcony off the back portion of the space.
“You live here?”
She whirled on him, eyes on fire with anger. “Yes, for your information I do. And, no, I didn’t sleep with anyone to get it.” The tone in her voice indicated it had been asked more than once.
He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender, and some of the ire in her eyes vanished. “I meant no disrespect. There is little I know about you, aside from what I can see.”
She opened her mouth as if to speak and immediately reached into her bag, withdrawing the weapon from earlier.
His heart slammed into his chest. Cal had never so quick to recover in the past, when he’d been guarding Ciara. Could it have been more than just Ciara who had grown too strong for him over the years?
A ball of witch fire sizzled over his palm, and he turned, lobbing the object and barely missing Ryce’s head. As with everything he made in the real world until he was released, the ball of fire disappeared uselessly into the wall.
Ryce waved his hand, and Alcott immediately knew what had happened. Turning, he saw Kellie frozen, the prongs on her device partially reaching toward them. A part of him wanted to attack Ryce for daring to do such a thing to his Word Speaker, but he understood the necessity, and barely contained his anger.
Ryce stepped passed Alcott, his trench coat buttoned for once. “Kellie, it is wonderful to meet you. Please excuse the inconvenience, but you see, I am growing rather tired of my people trying to kill me for one thing or another.”
“Maybe if you weren’t such an insufferable asshole that wouldn’t happen,” Alcott muttered, not bothering to do so under his breath.
Ryce carefully took the tazer from Kellie’s grip and set it down on the counter before turning back to Alcott. “Yes, well, perhaps if you all stopped taking everything as a goddamned suggestion or threat, I could be nicer.” His eyes flashed silver and a glint of fang snuck past his upper lip. Without waiting for an answer, he waved his hand once more, unfreezing Kellie.
“What the fuck was that?” Her voice shook with obvious fear, but to her credit, she did not back away from Ryce.
Alcott could practically hear the obnoxious smirk in Ryce’s voice, and it riled him more than usual.
“That was just a taste of my powers. Continue to try to murder or maim me, and you will see more.” He walked over to the large beige couch and dropped down onto it, leaning back and appearing rather comfortable. “Now, if we can continue this, it would be wonderful because I have a brother to seek out.”
Alcott watched as Kellie’s eyes seemed to flash with fire, but she said nothing as she crossed her arms over her chest and continued to watch both men.
“As Alcott was attempting to explain, you are something so much more than many could only wish for. You are a Word Speaker, and you have a destiny to fulfill, which you cannot run from.” Ryce’s voice was grave, as it always was during his explanation. “There is a prophecy, one that states Word Speakers and their protectors — Guardians — will fight in. Some of you will be on the side of light. The side I maintain. Others are on the side of darkness. Not to be mistaken with evil, albeit similar.”
“And who might you be? If I’m pledging my life to you in some ridiculous war I would love to know who you are. Oh, and why the fuck did no one seem to notice Alcott in any way shape or form as we moved through the streets? Oh, and while we are at it, who the fuck froze everyone, and will it keep happening?”
The corners of Alcott’s mouth twitched into a smile. He liked her fire, even if he wasn’t the most powerful, there was something to be said of a partner who was not afraid to push.
“His name is Ryce — or it was. Don’t bother attempting to ask the story or even figure out what name he goes by now. Suffice it to say he is as close to a God as we will ever get.”
“Alcott, I had no idea you felt so strongly about me,” Ryce joked playfully.
His humor was not completely out of character after living with him for three years, but Alcott still found it strange he was able to find humor in a situation orienting a Word Speaker.
“Alcott would be correct. Names have power, and while he was able to sink into my mind with his powers and ascertain what I once went by, I have since taken the precautions and changed it. Precautions that will not be discussed. As for the other questions, well, had you not been attacked, I suppose Alcott could have been more thorough.”
“Oh, but of course,” Kellie said sarcastically and rolled her eyes.
“A Word Speaker isn’t fully powerful until their twenty-seventh birthday. Do not bother me with questions of why or why then. I will not answer. However, that means Alcott, and all the dangers that come with being a Word Speaker, can only be seen by you and others like you. Ah-ah,” he waved a finger in the air, “no speaking until I am done, or I will freeze you in place again so that this doesn’t take eons to explain. Now, as for earlier, I was the one that did it. My brother and I are the only beings in existence that can freeze the course of time in the human world, and we only do it when necessary.” His gaze shifted to Alcott and he snorted. “Which is often needed when disbelief is so common.” He interlaced his fingers. “Now, fire away with your countless extra questions.”
Kellie was quiet for a moment. Alcott could see the questions flying across her face as easily as if they’d been written in marker. Yet she remained silent, possibly biding her time or organizing her thoughts. Her calm was rather different, intriguing. He’d expected the hysteria or utter shock she’d gone through earlier.
Feisty, beautiful and level headed. Have you met your match?
“Why would I fight? Why would I risk my life for some supposed destiny I’ve never heard about? Where are these so called others?”
“You will fight because you have no choice. The evil that lurks in books is as strong as the good. Since you pulled Alcott, any character may leave as they wish, and they will want you dead. My brother
is exceedingly talented at warping minds and planting ideas. Violence will follow you, and without a Guardian, you will not last. Your life is at risk whether you accept my words and Alcott’s protection or if you shun them. Though, I promise you are far more likely to reach twenty-seven with his help.”
“That didn’t answer my question about the others. How do I know this isn’t some hoax dreamed up by residents of the Quarter to randomly fuck with tourists?” Her voice was steely, hiding any indication she had heard or processed the threat to her life.
“I can see the man you’ve become will get along wonderfully with her,” Ryce said to him with a smirk. “There are others. And it is against the rules to know of them until the war comes. I have reason to believe it will be in your lifetime, but it is not something that should concern you. You will have one chance to turn down your destiny, one chance to forsake this. Tell me now, or accept your fate.”
Alcott hadn’t expected the man to even offer her such a bargain. It strengthened Demus’ side any time a Word Speaker declined their gift. Offering her a choice either meant Ryce no longer felt she was worthy, or he was trying to be less of a dick in the introductory meetings.
He didn’t dare to take his eyes off of hers. She wasn’t looking at him, but it was as if she could feel the intensity of his gaze, and she turned her focus from Ryce to him. Her dark brown eyes were as cold and as frozen dirt, and Alcott tensed, suddenly realizing that he did care if the woman didn’t accept her destiny and him along with it.
“This has to be the most suicidal thing I’ve ever done. But I will not turn my back on true magic, not when I’ve lived my entire life believing in the closest thing to it.” Her voice was still cold, but a small smile pulled at her lips as if she was enjoying the idea that magic truly was real.
Ryce popped off the couch, grinning from ear to ear. “Glad to hear it. There is one final rule, something that is unique to your situation with Alcott.” Ryce looked at him, shrugged his shoulders and kept on speaking. “Guardians can be replaced prior to release at twenty-seven. It is a soul deep connection that is tied to power as well as emotions —”