by Ruby Raine
Mathew decided to try a new tactic.
"This island is where we believe magic began on this earth. And that is something I'd wager the Howard's don't even know. But now that the Source has been located, perhaps one day we'll manage to prove our theory."
"You think this is where magic was born? What's so special about this place?"
"I'm afraid I do not know. But I do know that if this Power Source were to fall into the wrong hands, it would be disastrous for the magical and non-magical world. The scales would be tipped to the side of evil. Maybe for good. As Guardians, we do our utmost to make sure this does not happen. That is our main goal in existing. To keep evil from spreading so far and wide that good loses out, forever."
"Is that really the best we can ever hope for?" Lucas replied. "It's a touch depressing really. To think we just need to keep evil at bay enough to keep it from taking complete control."
"It's not as easy or as simple as I make it sound. But I, for one, would rather live in a mostly good world, over a mostly evil world, any day of the week."
"Well, so would I. No good person wants that."
And that made Mathew smile. "And you are a good person, Lucas. I know none of this has been easy for you. I wish—well, there's no sense wishing. But I do anyway. I wish I could make it better for you. But in the end, your future is your choice. How you want to live is your choice. Magic, or not."
"It's not all my choice. If I'd had my choice, you wouldn't have—" Lucas jammed his mouth shut. Because, fuck. There goes broken damn hearts again.
"I cannot change what is, Lucas. All I can say is that I'm sorry I let myself get carried away. I guess perhaps because I died in my human life so young I—I missed out on ever having a real relationship. Some of those things, those wants, don’t change just because we shed our human life. You made getting carried away easy, and forgetting my place, even easier. It's as easy as breathing."
Lucas heard the truth in Mathew's words. They struck right to his core because he felt the same way. But it only made the truth suck even harder because they didn't have a future together. And it wasn't lost on him that Mathew said, it's as easy as breathing. As in, still is. Hasn't changed.
"What was it like, when you first died, but didn't really?" Lucas was genuinely curious.
"You really want to know?"
"Are you allowed to talk about it?"
Mathew gave him a closed mouth smile. "Yes. I can. Some of it, anyway. Dying, but not really dying was—surreal." Mainly at first because it had been his own mother who greeted him, and explained their bloodline. And how now that he was dead, his spirit was free to re-inhabit his body and become a Guardian.
The part he could not tell Lucas because it might affect his judgement and choices. If Lucas had any clue, his own mother was a Guardian...
"I didn't believe them at first," he recalled aloud.
"No. I imagine it might not feel so different as what some people think await them after death. An afterlife, of some kind."
"Yes, exactly. But when they shoved my spirit back into my body and swept me away to join other Guardians in training, the reality hit home pretty fast. The hardest part—it's brutal really—is cutting off ties with your human life. It must be as if we no longer exist in that world."
"Why?"
"Can you imagine if I died, but suddenly showed up a week, or months later knocking at the door?"
"Yeah, okay. I get that. I guess."
"Even in the Supernatural world, that wouldn't go over well. Even witches die."
"Right." His eye caught Mathew's. It was just another reminder that the man he'd fallen hard for would outlive him. By, like, fucking forever.
"It's a policy that also ensures our success and survival. There's a process, and it works."
"That's good, I guess."
"Good doesn't always equal easy. But I can say, even with all its harshness in those first weeks and months as my humanity morphed into something more, and I mourned my human losses, I truly love what I do. I am blessed to have been given such a chance. As a Guardian, I am allowed to freely practice and use the gifts I was never encouraged to use in life. There are no constraints based on silly notions and human made tropes, like gender. I would never give up this life for anything."
The undeniable honesty and deep respect in Mathew's words were humbling, and not lost on Lucas.
"You're lucky. Few people can say they love their jobs and mean it like you do."
"I don't see it so much as a job. And even though there are rules, they don't impede on my ability to dabble in experiments with new potions, or other things that might prove beneficial to humanity, or our own world. Being a Guardian is a full-time existence, but it never feels that way. I feel far freer in this life than I ever did in my human life. And it helps that we live longer than the average human too," he added with a playfully adorable gleam in his eye.
Lucas gave a smile for that. "Yeah, I imagine getting up every day and knowing it won't be your last gives a new meaning to there's all the time in the world..." The humor of it died fast though. "I admit, I'm a bit jealous of those who've found their calling. I've been so surrounded by chaos these last few years that I'm starting to think I'm never going to find it."
Mathew was smart enough, at least he thought, to steer clear of the witch topic, because that was the last thing Lucas wanted to hear.
"You have amazingly talented skills with your hands—" he choked over his choice of words, the skin on his cheeks rushing with blood.
Lucas fought back a grin and felt the rush of heat in his own cheeks that fired right down to his groin. He couldn't help but use up the poor man, just a little.
"What things come to mind? What would you say I'm most talented at, Mathew?"
"I mean—you know—building things, and um—growing things," Mathew tried to correct all flustered and flushed. And he in no way meant how Lucas worked him over from top to bottom and everywhere in between. Except, he totally meant that.
"Fuck." Lucas sucked his lips inward and lowered his head. "You're far too sexy when you're flustered."
"Sorry. I wasn't trying to be."
"I know. You just—are."
Mathew tried to refocus through the butterflies swimming in his belly.
"What I intended to say, is that you're an inventor on your own front. Where I use science and magical knowledge to create potions, you can take something that's broken, and mend it. You can see something in your head that doesn't yet exist, and build it. You can plant a seed and bring it to life. Those are some pretty amazing sets of skills in any book."
Lucas never realized Mathew ever noticed those things. And he'd never thought of them as real skills. Just things he happened to be good at doing. But he did always say he'd take a job working with his hands over sitting behind a desk any day.
"Well, if you ever hear of some afterlife where they need a carpenter and a gardener, be sure to let me know."
Mathew grinned. "If I ever discover such a place, you'll be my first thought."
It was almost a real conversation for a minute. A bit of the ease they used to have. But it left an ache that might never fix itself because like his last words hinted, Mathew would be off on other jobs soon enough.
Lucas caught the other man cocking his head and getting a curious look on his face.
"What is it?"
"I'm not sure." But Mathew got to his feet like whatever he was hearing warranted the act, so Lucas followed, his heart beat ticking up a notch. Mathew made to move closer to the Power Source but wasn't paying attention to his feet and his shoe got hooked on the edge of a rock. Lucas caught him before he went down and got him balanced again.
The rush of blood to his cheeks returned and Lucas almost let out a groan at how damn sexy he found it—that and the man's never-ending clumsiness. Why he found these things forever endearing was lost on him. But their eyes lingered on each other longer than he was comfortable with and he pulled himself away before unc
omfortable landed them in other acts they'd both regret.
"What do you hear?" Lucas asked in a ragged tone.
Mathew got back to task and approached the entrance of the Power Source, watching where he stepped this time.
"It's not so much a sound, but a vibration. A change in energy."
"That never turns out well," Lucas grumbled, which made Mathew smile because it was so perfectly Lucas. But soon it was loud enough he'd heard it too, and felt it, like a charge prickling the hot, stale night air.
"It's coming from inside." And it was getting closer.
"Is that—normal?" questioned Lucas.
Mathew didn't answer and splayed his hands up against the roots that made up the entrance and closed his eyes. Lucas came up next to him and waited silently, leaning his ear up to the entrance.
BOOM.
It flew at them out of nowhere.
Lucas found himself flying backward in a blink. Mathew too, only he was a Guardian and popped out of the blast and managed to materialize mid-air, grab Lucas, and bring them both safely to the ground.
Too bad he hadn't thought of that when he'd almost tripped a minute ago, and saved him from having Lucas' hands on him. The memory of what that felt like was yet another brutal reminder of something he missed.
Lucas planted his hands on his knees and caught his breath.
"What the hell was that?"
He got himself righted himself and shook off the unexpected blow.
Mathew stared down the entrance of the Power Source like he was expecting something else to happen, or ordering it to reveal its secrets, but nothing of the sort happened.
"It was a release of magical energy," Mathew said a minute later.
"And that is normal?" Lucas asked again.
"No. It's not."
"So, what does that mean? Do we need to wake up the cavalry?"
"I-I don't know." And he sounded completely perplexed by the fact that he was not sure. Which threw Lucas for a loop because in all the time he'd known the Guardian, he'd never been unsure of things. Clumsy yes. Not always open about himself, a definite yes. But he always held a confidence in his knowledge that was—Lucas hated to say it—also sexy as hell.
They waited with bated breath, listening for any new sounds. Or to feel another magical burst. But nothing. All appeared settled and normal again.
"No use waking anyone," Mathew decided after a while. "Not yet at least. Nothing's changed. We can report in the morning."
Lucas nodded. But he had the distinct impression there was something Mathew was not telling him. And he was getting darn ass sick of that.
MELINDA GASPED AND almost lost her balance when the scene surrounding her and William dissolved, and so did her clothing. Her tank and shorts morphed into a long white dress that ruffled around her neck, and fell to the floor in a train behind her.
"What the hell?"
She was alone on a sidewalk, in front of stairs leading to a stately looking home. The sun was fading and lanterns being lit up and down the street, which bustled with people finishing up their business before day's end.
This was still the past.
And now, she was playing out a part, and no longer a spectator. But what part was she playing? And what year was this now? And what the hell was she dressed in?
"Sofia."
She spun as if her own name had been called, her smile widening at the familiar face.
They'd jumped ahead in time to when William was a grown man, no longer a boy.
He was younger than his forever thirty-one though. Melinda guessed mid-twenties. And as handsome as ever—even more so with the adoring smile and dancing emerald eyes fixed on her.
He was just hopping down from a carriage parked a few feet away. He reached back inside to grab a bag and set it down near Melinda—erm, Sofia, whoever she was. He strode up to her and wrapped his arms around her as if their separation had been far too long.
"I thought I'd never get away. Finally, my love. We're finally home. Our new home."
Melinda wasn't sure what he meant by all of it but was compelled to play along.
"I missed you every minute," she told him.
William's grin bowled her over and swept Melinda's breath away.
It was easy. Natural. And filled with such genuine happiness.
She wasn't sure she'd ever seen her vampire smile like this. It was rare, for sure.
"I will make our short time apart up to you," he promised. There was a wicked edge to his tone. So far, Melinda was missing how this was some kind of nightmare. So far, she'd gotten to catch a glimpse of William as a boy, and see his mother, and now had him ogling her like some kind of goddess he planned to ravage.
How was this bad? Oh, right. They were supposed to not do this sort of thing together because it blurred the lines of their real life non-relationship.
William returned to hand the carriage driver some money and the older gent smiled and gave them a playful wink before shuffling off down the road.
Melinda gazed down at herself wondering who Sofia was. She'd never heard William speak of her before. He'd never spoken much at all about his time as a human. Or even his early years as a vampire. Another reminder of how much she didn't know about him. But he had told her it was difficult to share such things because it made the inevitable departing that much harder. Meaning, when his human friends died, and he did not... but these memories had to be dredged up from some deeply hidden stores.
William came striding back over to her.
"My beautiful bride..."
Melinda's eyes peeled wide. What did he just say?
Bride? She looked down at herself again.
Holy shit! Yeah. A freaking bridal gown. That's what she was wearing.
Wait. William was married while still human? He'd never mentioned that before.
But she forgot to question or speak because he was a foot in front of her, staring with a familiar savage intensity. Apparently, even before he was a vampire, he still had a simper that knocked a gal's stocking's off. Or panties, if she thought she was wearing any. Instead, it was a tight as hell corset and who knew what the hell underneath it all. But William was looking at her like he was seconds away from tearing it all down the middle to get at her.
And dammit if she wouldn't let him do just that.
Screw these dreams.
They were so unhelpful when it came to her trying not to love the vampire. They kept throwing her right into his arms, and she was far too willing to let it happen. This time, however, she was pulled into his chest and dumbfounded into silence by having him so close. The blush in his cheeks. The living heart pounding against hers. His hot breath against her lips as they brushed gently against her own.
She let out a shocked squeak when his arms slid down behind her, and swoosh, she was gasping and lifted into his arms and he was carrying her up the stairs. So much for no touching. Or kissing. Or behaving themselves.
But he didn't even seem aware it wasn't his Sofia he was even carrying up the stairs. But Melinda playing out the part. And, of course, all rules were most likely out the window seeing as this was some dream, or nightmare, or bad trip, and she had no clue how long it would last or if William had any control over what happened, or if he was even fully aware of what was happening. She seemed stuck in playing along. But at the moment, she was perfectly contented to do that.
"Our new home," whispered William into her ear, which he was nibbling most invitingly. "It's only right that I carry you across the threshold for our first night as husband and wife."
"Husband and wife," Melinda muttered as if the world was suddenly filled with words she didn't understand. "First night."
Oh, shit. This was getting out of control, fast.
But as they swept up the stairs and through the doors, everything changed again and Melinda was on her feet staring down a rounded belly. Like time had sped up and landed them in the future again.
"Pregnant. Holy shit," she mumbled to herself. "
Like, way freaking pregnant." This dream or mind fuck of a trip was winding along and getting wacky fast. She was still feeling all jelly-legged and worked up from thinking about wedding night, and now, boom. A kid on the way! And she didn't even get to have the fun part of making the baby.
Her gaze lifted to a silhouette approaching.
It caught her breath, the foreboding in this form. It was the William she recognized—broody. Not playing any part other than, perhaps, lost in sad remembrance.
He knelt down in front of Melinda—Sofia, really, the part she was still playing—and he let his forehead rest on her belly.
"So long ago. So very long ago. Lifetimes..."
It was like he was there in the room, but not quite entirely present in reality—erm, dream. But things were taking on a darker edge. Melinda felt the change all around her. She had a terrible feeling the nightmare part was about to begin.
"You had a child. You're a father." She wasn't sure what else to say.
But he glided upward to his feet again and shook his head in grim response. His body floated backwards, sucked into the darkness.
"I should have been a father..." his voice dissolved into the distance and Melinda had a cold sweat breaking out on her brow and an icy shiver running down her spine. Where were they going now?
CHARLIE AND LIZZY WERE lying out in the backyard of the Howard Mansion, staring up at the stars. Lizzy wore a thin summer dress, wishing it was acceptable to just stalk around in her bare skin. She couldn't get enough of her feet touching the earth—like somehow that touch connected her to the earth in some way she'd never known before. Every blade of grass felt like a brand new discovery. The texture, the scent—the call of the wild, of nature.
Every sight, every sound, every smell, every touch, it was all like living and breathing in a new way—a primal way. Or as Charlie simplified it, it's a wolf thing...
Watching his new mate take to her new life, though, was an experience he'd never forget.
In pure Lizzy fashion, she wanted to soak up and never miss any new experience. She never let anything get in her way of stretching out her new talents, and she wanted to try out everything. And while watching her bloom into this new part of her life was more than incredible, surreal even, and he'd never felt so lucky in his damn life, in pure Charlie fashion, he was on constant edge and worried about all the things that might go wrong.