Magic of Worlds (The Guardians Series Book 3)

by Lexi Ostrow

  “Thank you again, for everything,” he said as he stepped toward the doorway, practically being tugged by Kellie in her excitement.

  They stepped through, the spring air not nearly as stifling as the summer air he’d experienced months before. The noise around them was the same — a combination of shouts, trombones, saxes and the shuffle of feet. He turned, just as the doorway was closing up, leaving them alone for the first time in what felt like forever.

  “Can’t you just smell the beignets?” Kellie asked as she took a dramatically large breath in.

  “I can safely say I smell the donkeys and the booze, but not your sweets.”

  “Well, I guess that just means we’re going to have to get closer, like inside the patio, and eat as many as we can stuff our faces with!” She dropped his hand and began to walk rather quickly toward Café Du Monde. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked impatiently as she turned to look at him.

  “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be,” Alcott said, meaning every word of it.

  He closed the viewing window to Alcott and Kellie. There was no longer a need to watch his newest pair interact. They had proven their commitment to each other beyond a shadow of doubt, if not their loyalty to his side. He’d lost just fewer than forty fighters, mostly to his brother’s deceitful attacks, but a few simply to life itself. It made the promise Alcott and Kellie had offered all the more important.

  “They’re all equally important,” he growled to himself as he dropped onto his couch.

  Allowing himself to favor some above others had been a foolish mistake. Albeit one that had likely returned Kellie to life, but an error nonetheless. For years, he’d remained impartial, but as of late, time seemed to have undone his numbness toward those he led. First Ciara, then Julian, next Dale, and even Kellie. His Word Speakers were sneaking their way under his skin, making him act in ways he otherwise wouldn’t.

  “So is your brother.” The words slipped out and seemed to echo in the empty expanse of his living room.

  It felt strange, sitting in silence. It had taken him nearly thirty-six hours to regain his strength after reviving Kellie, and since then, all he’d been able to realize was how alone he was. For a few days, he’d opened viewing windows and had checked on his charges. Kellie was the most recent Word Speaker, for either side, and he’d spent a few hours praying two more would pop up and give him a reason to stop dwelling. Not the case. All had been quite since his brother’s disgusting betrayal, leaving him utterly alone and too up close and personal with his thoughts. Feelings that often centered on killing the only brother he’d ever had, the only family of his still left.

  “He’s not your brother anymore.” The words felt cold as they left his lips, but they were not incorrect.

  Once upon a time, in his personal history, he’d had a younger brother. One who’d been the pride and joy of their tribe? Very few could hunt with his skill, or laugh in delight as thoroughly. They’d been inseparable, even as they’d grown and found marriage alliances with other tribes — if they could be called marriages back in his time. The man that wore his brother’s face was as dead inside as they came. Century upon century of interacting with evil had left him a shell of what he’d once been. There could be no hesitation in what needed to be done. His brother was no longer his brother.

  Closing his eyes, he focused on the only thing that kept them linked as family — blood. His eyes squeezed tightly shut, and he could feel the strain on his face as he attempted to force his enemy’s location to show itself. Kellie’s death had been temporary, but it would seem it was enough to fully consummate a name change.

  “That doesn’t explain why you can’t find him. In fact, it should have made you completely able to find him.”

  “I can help with that,” a deep voice rumbled.

  He turned on the couch, utterly in shock at seeing Huracan, in human form, standing before him. Save for a loincloth, the deity was stark naked. His body appeared as perfect as always, and no emotion showed in his crystalline eyes.

  Once upon a time, back when he’d still had a brother, he might have risen off the couch at the sight of the deity. No longer. He cracked his neck and went back to looking straight ahead at the strange tear that led to Kellie’s cousin.

  “I’d love to hear it. Though I’m guessing I’ve finally lost my mind to believe you’ve come.”

  An amused laugh came from behind him, and Huracan walked to stand in his path, directly in front of the accidental hole. He must have felt the rip in time and space because he turned to look, and when he spun back around, he was frowning deeply. “We will address this momentarily. I have come to speak to you of your brother.”

  “My enemy,” he snarled.

  “Whatever you chose to call him, he has been located.”

  That perked him up and nearly drew him off the couch.

  “He has been dealt with. I have spoken with the other Gods who have a bet in this fight, and he is to remain. He has been barred from ever returning to the name Demus, and I am barred from protecting you from one another.”

  “So nothing has changed.” His voice was deadpan, since he was no longer shocked by anything that occurred where his brother was concerned.

  “He has been punished. His side has suffered all the losses yours has, and he is forbidden from interacting with new Word Speakers for a short time. Those that would awaken and be swayed by his side will no longer realize their power.”

  That drew a gasp. “You would do such a thing?”

  “I would do whatever it is I please. Those humans only have such a gift because of a wager we have played. Those that never unlock it are, in a sense, better off. No war, no strife and a normal life.”

  He nodded sternly, understanding, but still not enjoying the outcome.

  “How long with this last?”

  “Until we feel he has been aptly punished for his actions.”

  “And in that time, I am to usher in any new Word Speakers that are on the border of good and evil, or strictly good?”

  “You will be. You are tasked with making certain your people do not retaliate as well. All those that helped your brother have been done away with. Those that remain have no idea what occurred, and only four of your members can remember if you did as instructed. Two of which will need to be wiped immediately.”

  Unease rolled through him at the idea of taking from Kellie and Alcott, but he understood that, while she was strong and he was like family, they were not power players. He’d thought they might be, but he could tell that it was merely their connection that would make them a decent force, not their gifts.

  “It will be done.”

  “Very well,” Huracan said sounding pleased with his response. He turned back to look at the rip and spoke without turning to face him again. “How did this occur?”

  “I am rather uncertain.” He didn’t think the God would have an interest in such a simple thing, not that it was apparent Huracan did, but he didn’t want the God knowing about it just the same.

  “Tell me about it. Do not bother to resist. You, better than your brother, understand my wrath at this time.”

  Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he contemplated not answering honestly, but decided against it. It was not the time to be selfish, and it was clear Hayley had no gifts that should concern him.

  “It does not move, it does not close and it does not show me a Word Speaker. I can’t tell you how it happened, as I’m not certain myself.”

  Huracan turned, eyes almost glowing. “Only that you like the woman that often fills the space.”

  “I am intrigued by her. She is the cousin of one of my charges. Yet, she appears to have no touch of Word Speaker in her or any tie with our war, and she is over the age of twenty-seven. She’s not applicable to be in our war.”

  “What you speak of is not entirely true. Though I admit to having no knowledge about her. Things are not always what they appear, and once created, the universe often does what
it desires.” Huracan fell silent, a look of contemplation crossing his face. “No matter. She is nothing as of now.” He waved a hand, and the unthinkable happened when the hole stitched close.

  His heart slammed into his chest as he fought back the urge to scream at Huracan, to make him bring her back. Jaw clenched, he sat as still as possible. Hayley was gone, and it was better that way. She didn’t belong to him or to his war.

  “Now, go do what needs to be done. Take the memories from your most recent pair that will be reminders of the attacks and Dale. I believe the life and death moment should remain, just as I believe you did not earn a punishment for that one particular act.”

  He hadn’t been concerned about recompense for saving Kellie, but he was rather grateful to hear he would not face any. Before he could say anything about it, a gentle breeze blew through the living room, and then Huracan was gone.

  Still staring at the place where he’d once been able to see Hayley, he shook his head, trying to right himself. Kellie and Alcott would never know what he was about to do to them, and he would even grant Alcott one last present before unwinding their lives and leaving the pair to themselves.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alcott could remember quite a lot of intense emotions — anger, love, fear and a myriad of others he’d felt too strongly. Nothing had ever amounted to the bundle of nerves he was at the moment. He could hear the shallow pants of his breathing and wondered if Kellie could tell how out of his skin he felt.

  “If you are ready,” his former roommate said stoically.

  Alcott turned to look at Kellie. She looked unfazed, perfectly content and absolutely beautiful. I’d be less nervous if he were wedding us, he thought wryly.

  “Could I have a moment with Kellie?”

  The man let out an exasperated sigh and nodded. “Don’t make me change my mind, Alcott.”

  Alcott nodded, knowing it was not an empty threat. Turning to Kellie he gently took her hands in his, staring into her hazel eyes and resisting the urge to tuck away the windblown strands of her hair. The smell of the Mississippi behind them was calming, but not nearly enough so.

  “Are you certain you are okay with this?”

  “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t be? Is there a reason you don’t want to go?” She asked calmly, without any bite of anger or hatred.

  He wanted to see Ciara again. In fact, he’d been on edge from thinking about it for the past five nights while he’d worked up the balls to ask Kellie if she would accompany him.

  “There is nothing in this world that could tear me from you, and not even death could take you from me.” His words rang out clearly, full of promise.

  She smiled at him and squeezed his hands. “Then there is no reason not to do this. I understand she was able to say her goodbyes and make peace with the loss, but you have not. It doesn’t matter what you feel for me, or what you feel for her. What matters is you need to end the grieving. You need to see for yourself that she is as happy as we are.”

  “Possibly happier,” his friend interjected.

  “I don’t see how anyone could be happier than we are. I know what we went through is a blur at best, but you are my happiness.”

  They’d undergone too many trails in a short time, and as far as he could tell, it had damaged their memories of the events. Bits and pieces were hard to put together, but he could still remember her dying in his arms as clear as day. That was the only memory he ever needed because it was the one that would remind him that each and every moment they had now was a gift.

  Squeezing her hands, he dropped one and turned to face his fate. “We’re ready.”

  “Very well. Remember, this is a one-time journey. Say and do what you feel needs to be done. After this, Ciara is off limits to all, save for Dale, who I sincerely cannot control thanks to his world walking. Make peace with the lives you have found and say your final goodbyes. There will not be a third instance.”

  He nodded, understanding and realizing that one final moment might just be enough for him. It clearly had been okay for Ciara when she’d been happy.

  Before him, the air above the mighty river shifted, shimmering and changing until it displayed one of the most beautiful area’s he’d ever seen.

  “Shit, she lives there?” Kellie said in awe beside him. “I might never want to return to New Orleans after seeing something like that.” She winked at him when he looked at her.

  “Remember Alcott, you will not see me after this, not unless your lives are in great peril. You will live out this partnership in whatever capacity it chooses to take, though I am fairly certain you have both made permanent decisions.” He gestured for them to step through. “The doorway will remain open because, as it is created by me, only those I wish to see it can. Do not spend forever there, but do know that I trust you to return.”

  “Thank you doesn’t cover this, but it didn’t cover bringing Kellie back to me either.” He let go of her hand and clasped the man in a hug. “I’ll be eternally grateful to you.”

  With a nod, the man flashed out.

  “Are you ready?”

  Kellie smiled at him. “To meet the first love of your life and a woman that is constantly spoke of being at a goddess-like level? Sure, why not?”

  Both laughing, they stepped through the doorway. The smells and sounds of New Orleans vanished instantly, leaving nothing more than a tranquil breeze and a few birds chirping. The private island was even more stunning now that they were physically on it. He’d never seen such vibrant ocean blues or perfectly manicured lawns and trees.

  “So, any idea where they would be?” Kellie asked, awe ringing out in her voice.

  He had no clue. He was still more nervous about seeing Ciara than he wanted to admit. Looking around, he swallowed hard and tugged Kellie’s hand so she turned to see it too.

  She let out a whistle. “Holy shit, and I thought my condo was huge.”

  A sprawling mansion was about five hundred feet away. Large windows covered with what looked like silky white curtains prevented him from seeing in. Columns nearly as impressive as the ones he’d seen in photos of Washington D.C. lined an entryway that led to a plain, white door. He’d known Stryder had been alive in his book for nearly as long as the brothers that led the war, but he hadn’t realized how much luxury it had afforded him.

  “Well, if nothing else, I don’t ever have to worry about her on the streets or not having enough space for all the pets she wished to save.” His attempt at humor fell flat, his nerves clearly showing through.

  “It will be okay. I’m not sure what you’re nervous about. Perhaps that I’ll spiral into some jealous rage, or that she’ll be furious you dared to disturb her happily ever after?”

  “Both of those sound like perfectly plausible scenarios, given it’s been almost four years since I’ve seen her, and you did get rather jealous of her a time ago.”

  Kellie playfully poked him in the chest. “Listen here, witch boy, I am a completely confident woman who had a tiny break. This is what you need, and while I feel pretty damn inferior to a woman I’ve never met, you have my word I will not fly off in a tizzy fit.”

  He couldn’t express how she’d comforted him, not without sounding like an utter sap. So, he tugged her too him and kissed her deeply, forgetting everything except the feel of her against him until she pulled back.

  “We have things to do, though I fully expect you to pick that up where we left off when we get back to New Orleans.”

  “Wait here. I admit to reading the only book written about this world after the offer to come was made. Stryder is a hot head, and I want you a few feet back should he be less than pleased to see me, or anyone for that matter, since I don’t know if he has any clue who I am.

  “Or you just don’t want me falling for how damn perfect he must be,” she beamed playfully at him and released his hand.

  Grinning, he took the most confident and deliberate steps he could while keeping his mind utterly blank as he approved
the grand house. Stopping just before the door, he took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock. It sounded rather loud, echoing through the peaceful outdoors and making his mind spin.

  Would she be happy to see him? Would her Guardian, her husband, be happy to see him? Would Kellie honestly be able to watch them interact and not feel anything? Could he honestly interact and not feel a stirring of his old defeat at losing her?

  The door opened with a whoosh, and a giant of a man filled the doorway. Stryder. He’d seen the demon briefly the last time he’d seen Ciara. In person, standing directly next to him, he looked utterly different. Intimidating from head to toe, and so attractive man, that even Alcott couldn’t deny it.

  He towered over both Alcott and Kellie, standing nearly as high as the doorframe and absolutely as wide as it. Jet-black hair as obsidian as Ciara’s hung just past his shoulders — a lot longer than when last he saw him. Eyes that seemed so blue they glowed narrowed as they looked at Alcott, taking in his presence and possibly figuring out precisely who he was from the one moment they’d seen one another. Arms the size of small tree trunks crossed over a broad chest. Pecs and forearms flexing as he did so.

  “You look familiar, but not enough, so state your business.” That time his eyes did flash a different color.

  “I am here to see Ciara.”

  He didn’t get to say another word before Stryder reached out and wrapped a hand around his neck. Without thinking, witch fire flared to life, causing the other man to let go.

  “Fuck. I know that trick.” He pulled back and rubbed his slightly singed hand. “You’re him, aren’t you? Her Guardian. Well, her first.” There wasn’t even the slightest tinge of fear in the man’s voice.

  “I am Alcott.” He extinguished the flames and held out a hand. “I’d like to see her if that’s possible. Coming here was not easy, and I don’t wish to find myself trapped in any way.”

  “Why have you come? How have you come?”

  Alcott smirked. “Remember the man in the trench coat?”