Borrowed Heart

by Linda Lamberson

  “Yeah, okay,” Quinn responded.

  “If you feel like anything—and I mean anything—isn’t sitting well, like the slightest thing’s not right, you shout out my name immediately. I don’t care if it’s a false alarm. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Quinn said, nodding.

  “Good. I have to go check on something, but I’ll be back soon.” I had made it a personal rule to never phase or teleport in front of Quinn. I did so because I never wanted to draw attention to what I truly was—an immortal, a ghost … a Shepherd. Yet that didn’t change the fact that I was all of these things. At the end of the day, I was Quinn’s guardian, and he was my charge. But I’d become so preoccupied with pretending to be human that the tables had turned, and he ended up being my guardian tonight; he had saved me from being hit by the limo.

  Well, playtime was over. It had to be. I phased out of sight right in front of him.

  29. Forget Me Not

  “Would you mind explaining just what happened tonight?” Peter demanded without first saying as much as a “hello.”

  “Well, it’s nice to see you too,” I snapped. I was still a little annoyed with him for not being there for me the last time I needed help. Luckily, Teddy had been there to fill in.

  “Eve, I don’t have time for small talk—we don’t have time. Mr. Harrison’s fate is all but untraceable, and your signature … well, it … flickered.”

  “Flickered?”

  “Yes, like a candle flame struggling to stay lit in a gust of wind. And I, for one, am having trouble making sense of it all. So I’m going to ask you one more time—what happened tonight?” I’d never seen Peter so flustered.

  “I’m not really sure,” I said, shaking my head in confusion. “There was this limo … and these two thugs …” I proceeded to explain the details of the supposed incident involving Quinn the night before—including Ronald’s part in the matter and the limousine parked on the street just outside Quinn’s loft—and the near hit-and-run involving the same car just minutes ago, followed by the guys chasing us into the abandoned warehouse. Peter looked especially concerned when I mentioned that I thought one of creeps had red eyes.

  “So the Incident Timer didn’t register the near hit-and-run tonight?”

  “Or being chased in the warehouse afterwards,” I replied.

  “But your watch did register the Incident with the limo the other night?”

  “Yes, but that’s the strange part—there was no Incident the other night,” I said. “Quinn was sleeping soundly the entire time. No one tried to attack him or break into his apartment.”

  “And you say this Ronald character was the one who tipped you off about the Incident the other night?”

  I nodded affirmatively.

  “And he told you to teleport?”

  “Not in so many words,” I clarified.

  “Did he tip you off tonight?” Peter asked curiously.

  “I didn’t see him tonight.”

  “Hmm.” Peter paused for a moment as if to collect his thoughts. “Well, it’s possible that tonight’s events were a carryover from last night’s—that perhaps your actions the night before forced the Servants to delay or alter their plans to attack Mr. Harrison until tonight … And if that’s the case,” he continued his train of thought, “it seems likely that the Sisters wouldn’t have been able to detect such a sudden change in plans. That could explain why the Incident didn’t register on your watch tonight.

  “Well,” Peter said on a more cheerful note, “based on the past two nights, I think it’s safe to say your charge survived the Second Incident. Thankfully, the next Incident should be the third and last one.”

  “So my assignment with Quinn is almost over?” I tried to sound indifferent, but I could hear my voice shake slightly.

  “Hopefully, yes.” Peter sighed with relief. “Eve, we need to get you through this assignment and onto a new one as soon as possible. It’s truly for the best.”

  “Yes … for the best.” There was no masking the disappointment in my voice this time. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Quinn. Then another thought crossed my mind, one that had entered my mind while I was chasing the limo the night before and then surfaced to the forefront of my mind again after the near hit-and-run tonight.

  “Peter,” I said hesitantly, “what if the guys in the limo weren’t after Quinn? What if … what if they were after me?”

  “Why would they be after you?” Peter’s tone was nothing if not dismissive.

  “Because Quinn wasn’t in the street when the limo came careening down the street tonight—only I was.”

  “Excuse me?” Peter asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

  “Quinn was standing on the curb. He pulled me out of harm’s way … ” My voice trailed off as I saw the rage build in Peter’s eyes.

  “Eve, are you telling me that have you been so foolish as to actually walk around with your charge? In broad daylight for everyone to see?” Peter looked like he was ready to explode.

  “Well …,” I began sheepishly, “actually we go for walks together mostly at night … when it’s dark.” I knew my explanation wasn’t going to get me off the hook; I was in serious trouble. Sure enough, Peter threw his arms up in the air and stormed away from me.

  “Eve, what were you thinking? Just how many of these walks have you taken with your charge? Exactly how much time are you spending with him?” he asked, flustered.

  “Enough,” was my response to both questions. Peter didn’t have to read my mind to know I was being purposefully evasive. Still angry, he began pacing back and forth.

  “And Ronald has seen the two of you?”

  I nodded affirmatively.

  “All right, Eve, answer this for me—has anyone besides Ronald seen you two together?”

  I mentally ran through all of the walks Quinn and I had taken. Countless numbers of people had seen Quinn and me together, but they weren’t really paying attention to us—surely they wouldn’t remember us. Mr. Adams may have seen me that day at the zoo, but I doubted it. Oh … yikes! There was Tommy. And Brady. Crap. But seeing that I was in enough hot water at the moment, I decided not to volunteer any information about either encounter if I could help it.

  “That depends on how you define ‘seen,’” I said, trying to dodge the question.

  “Eve!” Peter seethed furiously.

  “Well,” I said, trying to justify my actions, “it wasn’t like I advertised who I was or anything like that. I always wore a hat and sunglasses during the day.”

  “Oh, Eve,” Peter’s sighed, his anger seeming to give way to sheer dismay. “This changes things. I think maybe you’re right. I think the limo tonight was aiming for you.”

  “Why? Why would someone go after me when I’m already dead?”

  “The Servants can recognize you by your signature alone. It wouldn’t matter if you were in disguise from head-to-toe and they had their eyes closed; they would have known what you were from miles away. And now they’ve had ample opportunity to observe you with Mr. Harrison. I’m sure they know he’s been marked.”

  “Marked?” I didn’t know what Peter was talking about.

  “Yes, marked.” He slammed the railing on the edge of the deck with his fist, splitting the wood down the middle. “I warned the Council this was the risk we were taking by letting you go on assignment before you were ready … before you had been given all of the information. Now look at the mess we’re in,” he grumbled.

  “What information?” I asked.

  “Eve,” Peter turned to face me. “Unfortunately, there are more humans in trouble than there are Shepherds; and we can’t protect them all. So we do the best we can by selecting, or marking, which humans need our help the most, and dole out our assignments accordingly.

  “One reason for our distance and anonymity is that we don’t want the Servants to figure out which humans have been marked and which ones haven’t,” Peter explained in a somewhat less annoyed, more instructive ton
e. “It keeps the Servants guessing who is under our protection and who isn't, which ideally buys all targeted humans more time while also giving us a greater opportunity to catch the Servants in the act when they get sloppy.

  “Another reason we don’t parade around in the open is so the Servants can’t identify us. They are dangerous. They want nothing more than to destroy us, and we don’t want to make it any easier for them by giving them our names and faces.

  “But with you walking around out in the open with Mr. Harrison, the Servants undoubtedly know he’s been marked—and they know that you are his Shepherd. So my guess is that they’ve changed their game plan. They’re probably monitoring his every move—your every move—so they can be ready to strike at a moment’s notice when given the opportunity.”

  I gasped. “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely,” Peter said dismally.

  “I … I had no idea.”

  “How could you?” His eyes suddenly clouded over and he dropped his head as a pensive look crossed his face. “I wasn’t given sufficient time to explain it to you. You were sent into the field too early. I should have fought the Council’s decision harder, and that was my mistake. I’m sorry, Eve.”

  Here I was the one who had knowingly and willingly broken the Rules, and yet Peter was the one left feeling responsible, chalking up my selfish and reckless behavior to a lack of adequate training on his part.

  “Peter, this is my fault. You told me to stay out of sight. You told me not to get involved with Quinn. But … I didn’t listen,” I said apologetically.

  “Yes, well, if I had explained why our Rules are in place, if I had told you how important it was to obey them, I doubt you would have been so willing to test them,” Peter replied.

  “Your behavior does, however, give rise to an alternate, but equally viable, explanation as to why your watch has been so unpredictable—why the Incident dates keep changing,” he continued. “Chances are the Servants are after both of you, and the Sisters are having trouble deciphering when your charge is meant to be the sole target.”

  “Why would the Servants be after both of us? They already killed me.”

  “I’m sure the Servants believe you pose too great of a threat for them to successfully execute their plans for Mr. Harrison. Don’t you see? Eve, you’re a thorn in their side. If you really have been that visible, if you’re always right there by his side … ready to defend him, how are the Servants going to eliminate him?

  “Hmm,” Peter paused momentarily, “now that I think about it, the other night with your charge may have been nothing more than a test to see how quickly you would react at the first sign your charge was in danger. When you reacted so swiftly, the Servants probably realized they had to change their tactics and remove you from the equation first before they attacked Mr. Harrison.” Peter looked up at me like he had just solved the riddle.

  “My guess, Eve, is that you both were targets tonight,” he concluded.

  I had made a huge mess out of things. I had unwittingly put the Servants on red alert about my existence and risked Quinn’s safety—as well as my own.

  “Peter, I can’t change what I’ve done, but I can change what I do going forward. Please … tell me how to clean up the mess I’ve made.”

  “That is what I’m here for, right?” Peter sighed heavily and smirked.

  “So what do I do now? And what about Ronald? Who is he?” I asked anxiously. I felt an urgent need to undo as much damage as I could. “And what about those creeps from the limo? I overheard one of them saying that there would be another opportunity to finish the job soon.”

  “The goons from the limo are just par for the course—a work hazard. You may run into them again or other ones just like them. Keep your wits about you—for both Mr. Harrison’s and your sakes.”

  “Do you think they were demons?” I asked.

  “I doubt it. Servants recruit humans to do most of their dirty work. I bet you got caught up in the moment and only thought you saw red eyes. You said it yourself—it was dark.”

  Peter was probably right. Still, I didn’t like the look on his face. It was as if he was hiding something from me. I wish I could have read his mind so I knew what he was really thinking.

  “And as for Ronald,” Peter continued, “I don’t know who he is, but I can tell you that he’s not a Shepherd. Though, judging from your interactions with him, I don’t think he’s a Servant either. Nevertheless, I don’t like how closely he was tied to the timing of the limo Incident the other night. And I really don’t like how he seems to know certain things about you. I’m going to have to do some research to see if I can find out more about his background. In the meantime, however, I would steer clear of him. I’m not sure he’s on our side.”

  “Okay, right. Stay clear of Ronald. Done.” I marked it as item number one on my mental checklist.

  “And for Heaven’s sake, Eve, do not go on any more excursions with Mr. Harrison.” Peter paused to take a deep breath. “I hate to tell you this, Eve, but you have been putting your charge’s life at even greater risk without realizing it.”

  “Well, I realize it now,” I asserted. “And don’t worry, there won’t be any more walks with Quinn—there won’t be anymore anything with him.”

  I had to end things with Quinn. Things had to go back to the way they were before I revealed myself to him. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do, but it was the only thing I could do to ensure his safety.

  The thought of never speaking to Quinn again, of never laughing with him again … of never touching him again caused a gut-wrenching pain in my abdomen. The back of my throat began to ache, and my mind throbbed. It felt like my soul and my spirit were being ripped apart. As it was, I could barely withstand the agony, and I hadn’t even talked to Quinn about it yet. My feelings must have been transparent because Peter put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Peter,” I managed, “I know I broke the Rules. I know I got too close … I realize now that I made a lot of stupid mistakes. I … I know I have to change things … dramatically.” My words were barely audible—I felt like my throat was closing up.

  “Eve, trust me when I say this … it’s the only way.” Peter’s eyes clouded over, and I thought of Madeleine and the pain he must have endured when he ended their relationship. Then I thought of the pain that I was about to go through … And Quinn. What about him? Was there any way to spare him the pain I was about to inflict upon him?

  “How do I—I mean, how should I—?” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t force the words out of my mouth. Hearing them out loud would only make this all too real.

  “End things with him?” Peter asked.

  I nodded my head affirmatively, unable to utter the words … unable to even look at Peter.

  “If it helps, Eve, think of it this way. You’re going to have to leave him at some point anyway. Your assignment is only temporary, remember?” Peter picked up my wrist and looked at my watch. “And from the looks of things, you may only have a few more months anyway.”

  I looked down at my watch. The next Incident—probably the last Incident—had settled once again on the twenty-fourth of November of this year.

  “There is no way for you to stay with Mr. Harrison after your assignment is complete. Soon, you’ll have no other choice but to break all ties with him.”

  No other choice. The words rang hollowly inside me. I knew Peter was right. I knew the day would come when I would have to say good-bye, I had just hoped it wouldn’t have arrived so quickly.

  “What will happen to Quinn? I got him into this mess. I can’t just break his heart and then abandon him.”

  “Eve, there is a way to break it off with him—a nontraditional way, so to speak, where your charge won’t have to feel any pain whatsoever.”

  “How?” I asked nervously.

  “You can make Mr. Harrison forget. You can make it so he never even has to experience the pain of you ending your relationship. You can erase y
ourself and all the events involving you from his mind.”

  Make him forget me? Forget us? A rush of emotions erupted inside of me. I was horrified at the thought of Quinn forgetting about me. The very idea of erasing myself from his memory was devastating. I was horrified that Peter would even suggest something so wicked. But, at the same time, another part of me was intrigued, almost relieved, by Peter’s suggestion. There actually was a way to spare Quinn the suffering that ending our relationship would cause him. It would be as if we had never happened—at least in his mind.

  “Isn’t that breaking the Rules?”

  “It’s part of that grey area I mentioned to you before. We all have the power to heal emotional suffering as well as physical. It’s a technique we occasionally use on humans who have been through a particularly traumatic or painful experience. We can isolate the memories of a specific experience and erase all traces of it from a human’s mind … It’s also proven to be quite an effective method of protecting our kind if we’ve been exposed in the mortal realm,” Peter added.

  “Is that what you did to Madeleine?” I asked cautiously. I knew it was none of my business. Peter probably didn’t even know I was aware of Madeleine; yet I still had to ask. I needed to know what to expect from someone who had been through this before. I needed to hear it from someone who had experienced it firsthand.

  “Yes,” Peter replied flatly.

  “And it worked?”

  “Better than you would ever imagine.” His eyes clouded over again. He volunteered no other information, and I knew better than to press for more details.

  “So you can erase all memories of me from Quinn’s mind? You can make it as if this … as if I … never happened?” I asked somewhat optimistically.

  “Not me, Eve …You. You must do it.”

  “Me?” I whispered faintly as my anxiety began to reach peak levels.

  “Yes. You know your charge better than any of us, so only you know which memories will trigger his grief when you leave,” he explained. “Therefore, you are the only one capable of erasing his mind and healing him in this way.”