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Guardians (Seers Trilogy Book 3)

Page 25

by Heather Frost


  Lee nodded once while squeezing my hand, before leaving us alone.

  I continued to stare at the shower curtain across from me, resisting the urge to dissolve into tears. Being in shock helped hold that sort of thing back, luckily.

  Patrick was silent beside me. I expected him to break it eventually, but not in the way he finally did. I heard something that resembled a croak but was more like a gasp. My eyes slid to see him hunched over the sink, his shoulders quaking with dry sobs.

  I was so shocked by the sight of his anguish, I hardly knew what to do. I’d never seen him break down before. That was usually my prerogative.

  I moved slowly, peeling away from the counter to hesitate at his side. I placed a hand on his back and he shivered at my touch, still panting heavily. “Shh,” I whispered soothingly. “Patrick, what’s wrong?”

  He didn’t answer. Maybe he couldn’t. His throat sounded tight, the air he managed to get inside his lungs exhaling just as quickly. He was going to hyperventilate. Could Guardians do that?

  My fingers stroked his back, my other hand coming to run up and down his arm. “Are you hurt?” I asked, deeply concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  I swear I heard the counter crack under his weight; the pressure of his crushing hold threatened to rip it from the wall. “I don’t know what to do,” he finally gasped. “I don’t know how to stop this. I don’t—”

  “Shh,” I repeated, trying to gather him into my arms. I laid my head against his shoulder, pushing myself up against him. “Patrick, it’s okay. It’s over.”

  “It’s not over,” he rasped, almost choking on what could have been a hard laugh. “It will never be over. Not until you’re gone. And then there won’t be a point to it. To anything.”

  My eyes burned, but I didn’t know what to say or how to comfort him. I pressed my lips to his shoulder, moved my hand down his tense arm. His grip on the sink faltered. I took advantage of the momentary lapse by sliding my fingers around his elbow. For a second I thought he would fight me, intent on keeping me shut out. But then his body sagged and he let me get in front of him, my back to the counter. He buried his head in my shoulder, wrapping me in his arms so tightly I could barely breathe. I tried to hold him just as strongly, but I’m sure my feeble arms didn’t succeed. I just wanted to calm him down—bring him back to being the Patrick he’d been just a few hours ago. Had we really been flirting in the living room only hours ago? So much had happened since then.

  “Why?” He shuddered into me, moaning deeply and breaking up my thoughts. “Why do I have to lose you?”

  My whole face scrunched in confusion, pulling uncomfortably against the bandage on my face. My grip on him tightened. “Patrick, what are you talking about? You haven’t lost me—I’m right here.”

  “Now. But not forever. Kate, please don’t leave me here alone.” His voice sounded so lost, so broken.

  My eyes pricked with tears and I pulled him impossibly closer, my arms coming around his bent neck. “I’m not going to leave you, Patrick. I’m never going to leave you. Remember? I promised.”

  He didn’t reply right away. He just continued to shake with the energy of his grief—a grief I hardly understood. Why was he falling apart like this? I’d been through worse. We both had.

  He whispered so softly I barely heard his words. “Yes, you will.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “You’re going to leave me.”

  I tangled my fingers in the hair at the back of his head, hoping the feel of my fingers against his skin would help soothe him—assure him of my presence. “Patrick, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.”

  I felt his lips graze my neck, his forehead brushing back into my hair. “But you do. I’ve seen it.”

  I tried to pull away from him, to look at his face, but he held me firmly in place. I nearly growled in frustration. “What are you talking about? Seen it? Seen what?”

  “The night of your grandfather’s funeral,” he spoke huskily against my skin. “You came to me. From the future. You told me to change the past. To keep the twins from dying. You said I needed to let you go so I could protect them. You asked me to let you die. How could you ask me to—?” A harsh breath was expelled, his question unspoken, haunting the space between us.

  I stopped trying to pull away from him. I tried to wrap my mind around this new information. The fact that he’d seen our future and hadn’t told me. He’d seen me basically commit suicide but hadn’t bothered to tell me. And the twins? They were going to die? My mind shied away from the very implication. They couldn’t die—I wouldn’t allow it.

  Patrick was still speaking, almost mumbling now. “You said that everything we try fails. That I’m going to fail. That I’m not strong enough to protect you. You were covered in blood.” His arms flexed around me. “And when you disappeared from my arms, I knew you were dead. I—I can’t let you die, Kate.” He gulped back a fresh sob. “But it will happen. I know it will—I watched it happen . . .”

  My lips parted. It took a full minute before I could force words out, and when I did they were incredibly weak. “Why didn’t you tell me this? It’s been weeks, Patrick. Weeks.”

  His breath snorted weakly. “I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want to give you any ideas. I thought I could change things—save you. Keep you from traveling back . . .”

  He didn’t have to add the last part. But it’s impossible to change what’s already happened.

  But, no. Patrick couldn’t believe this was over. He’d said it himself, downstairs. He’d said our fates weren’t set in stone. We could control our destinies.

  And if he really believed that, I realized, he wouldn’t be in such despair now. He would have told you about your future visit sooner. He was lying to you before. Things are set in stone. You’re going to die.

  He seemed to notice for the first time how still I’d become. He pulled back swiftly and I saw his tear-streaked face at last. It was contorted into a look of pure torture, his eyes horrified at what he’d done. “Kate, please. Please forgive me. For keeping this from you. For telling you. For letting it happen, I—”

  I reached up to touch his face—trace the trails left by his tears. I couldn’t explain the calm that had come over me. “There’s nothing to forgive. You were doing what you thought was right.”

  His breathing came even faster now, as if my easy acceptance frightened him more than screams and denials. “I didn’t mean to tell you. Let alone like this.”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered.

  He groaned. “No, it’s not. Kate, you shouldn’t have to carry this burden.”

  I shook my head. The few facts I knew kept running through my mind: I was going to die. Patrick had seen it. He didn’t think my fate could be changed. I was going to die.

  “Kate,” Patrick groaned.

  “Let’s not worry about this right now,” I interrupted unhurriedly, my eyes on his. “Tonight’s been . . . We’re both here, and we’re both alive. I can’t . . . I can’t be freaking out about the twins right now. I . . . I can’t worry about this right now. Please?”

  He didn’t answer right away. It was obvious he wanted to talk it out—flush out my true feelings and convince me there was nothing to worry about. But I knew better than that.

  Patrick knew that this—my death—was inevitable.

  My steady gaze must have convinced him I was stable, though. At least emotionally sound enough to discuss all the implications later. The night had been long enough already; it had changed everything.

  He bowed his head to escape my steady stare. “All right,” he breathed shakily, agreeing to put off the discussion—for now.

  But as we held each other tightly, I knew the conversation was still going on in our minds.

  Sixteen

  The cleanup of the house took the rest of the night and into the morning. The twins went straight to school from their respective sleeping places, so at least I didn’t have to wo
rry about them seeing a bullet hole in the wall by the front door, let alone the blood both inside and outside of the house. I didn’t want to go to school myself, but in the interest of convincing Patrick that the news of my imminent death hadn’t completely disturbed me, I went.

  I was distracted and distant in class. Patrick was silent as well, though he asked me every now and again if I wanted to go home. I shook my head every time, because I knew going home would just make me think of the six lives lost there last night, most poignant being those of Alex and Ashley. Trudging through school was nothing compared to the torture of being in my own home.

  I didn’t hear a word any teacher spoke. I was concentrating on everything Patrick had told me last night.

  He’d seen me die. Weeks ago he’d listened to my last words, held me in his arms while I bled out . . . While I died. I was going to die.

  I was going to die.

  Death was something every living thing had to come to terms with. But usually one didn’t get this much warning, this kind of detailed information. Thinking of my fate didn’t make for a cheerful morning or afternoon. And to think that Patrick had been dealing with this since Grandpa’s funeral . . . Every time he’d looked into my eyes, held my hand, he’d been thinking of my death. He had to have been—something like this was impossible to ignore. It was why he’d been so adamant I not go back to his father, why he didn’t want me helping Terence with the mission to stop the Demon Lord . . . He’d known all along that we were going to fail, that I was going to die. And he hadn’t told me.

  I tried to be angry, but really I was only hurt. Hurt that he’d been dealing with this on his own. Hurt that I couldn’t comfort him. Hurt because I couldn’t be strong for him when I was so terrified myself.

  And then I had my most immediate fears.

  The safety of the twins had me freaking out even more than my imminent death. Why hadn’t I given Patrick more specifics when I’d traveled to warn him? How exactly could he save them? Would his presence be enough to stop what was going to threaten them? When were they going to be in the worst danger? How would I know? How could I help protect them?

  Everything we try fails. That phrase could mean a lot of things, but I found myself figuring out a reasonable explanation.

  When Dr. Radcliffe came to get the bodies of Alex and Ashley last night, he just shook his head. “I’ll have to call Terence. This pushes our plans back—perhaps indefinitely. Already we were short on help. No one was willing to possibly sacrifice his life for this mission. And to find Special Seers young enough . . . I don’t know what we’ll do now.”

  In my mind, it was all beginning to make sense. Two Seers had been lost last night. But I happened to know two Special Seers who could serve as replacements. It was beyond obvious I needed to help now. If I didn’t volunteer, the Demon Lord might never be stopped. The twins would never be safe. And if my attempt was due to fail, at least I could die with the knowledge that I’d tried to make things right.

  The words of the scripture in Proverbs kept running through my mind: “There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.”

  Maybe I was wrong to try—doomed to failure. But I couldn’t stop trying to protect those I loved just because I might fail. Living like that would drive me crazy.

  Now I just needed to tell Terence and, of course, Patrick. I wasn’t looking forward to the latter conversation, but I knew I couldn’t put off the first any longer.

  During lunch I escaped to the bathroom. Patrick stood to follow me out of the cafeteria, but Lee must have sensed my need to be alone because she stood, latching onto my arm. Patrick probably also realized my need for privacy, but he wavered a moment before allowing us to go without him. He gave me a hard look, as if trying to judge if I was really coping as well as I kept assuring him I was. But in the end he stayed behind. So maybe I was getting the hang of lying.

  I didn’t want to tell Lee about my fate. She’d definitely freak out, and I was already putting her through so much. She was my best friend. I knew she would want to know, would gladly take on the extra weight and concern in order to help me cope. But I was already having a hard time convincing Patrick I was okay—I didn’t want to lie to Lee as well. And so when we reached the bathroom, I told her I needed to make a phone call to Terence, alone. She nodded, though she looked curious. As the door swung closed behind me, I heard Lee tell a girl that someone was throwing up violently inside and to find another bathroom.

  I made sure the stalls were all empty before dialing Terence.

  He interrupted me as soon as I told him I was volunteering to help on the mission, urging me to talk to Patrick before making any rash decisions. I could pick up the keywords; it was obvious Patrick had told him about seeing the future me; probably that day at the malt shop, when they’d gone outside. Terence knew all about my destiny, and it was time he knew I knew about it too.

  I took a deep breath and assured him I knew everything and was still prepared to help stop the Demon Lord.

  I was prepared for a fight, but fortunately he agreed with me. He believed that trying to take out the Demon Lord was worth any risk. He only wished we had more eligible Seers.

  It was then I told him I could get another Special Seer to join our ranks. At least, I was fairly certain I could. Peter Keegan might not be entirely willing at first, but I was pretty confident I could convince him to help. And I was pretty sure he was young enough.

  Terence promised to call Dr. Radcliffe and let him know of my help immediately, before he and Hanif decided to go home. He also added that Alex and Ashley would be buried in their hometowns, according to their wishes.

  All of this was happening in a fog. I hardly felt like the moment was real until he voiced the question I’d dreaded most. “Kate, have you told Patrick of your plans to help on the mission?”

  I turned where I stood, facing my pale face in the mirror. “No. Not yet.”

  “Don’t put it off. He deserves to know. Considering everything . . . He should know.”

  I felt a tear slide down my cheek—the first real tear I’d shed since learning I was going to die in the near future. “Terence . . . you’ll help him out, after . . .” I tried again. “He’s going to need people around him, if things play out like he saw.”

  “Kate, the future is never certain. But, if it will ease your mind, he won’t be alone. Do you honestly think his friends would abandon him?” He cleared his throat roughly, trying to push past the sudden emotion. “Now, Kate, since the Demon Lord doesn’t know about the warehouse, I think you should relocate there until the mission is complete. You’ll have Guardians around you. You won’t be alone.”

  But Patrick won’t be with me when I die—when I go back. The future me said as much to him . . . I might as well be alone.

  Emotion leaked into my voice as I ended the call. Terence told me one last time how brave I was, but I didn’t feel brave. I felt disconnected, alone, and afraid.

  ***

  Grandma was stacking a suitcase on the porch when I got home. Lee was still with me, sensing my need to have her around. She had nothing better to do at home, she said. Surprisingly, she hadn’t questioned me point blank about what was wrong. I figured she would, eventually. But for now, she was willing to follow my timetable.

  The twins hopped out of the car, rushing up to Grandma, who was just stepping back into the house.

  “Are you going somewhere?” Jenna asked as she stepped through the open doorway.

  “We are going on a little trip,” Grandma said, loud enough for me to hear from the driveway. “You remember my friend, Lilly Gibbs?”

  “The one who broke her leg?” Josie asked.

  Grandma nodded as she stepped back onto the porch, dragging a rolling suitcase that bulged with luggage. “I thought it would be nice of us to spend a week with her. Maybe more.”

  “What about school?” Jenna asked, perceptibly appalled. “We can’t just leave!”

  �
��I’ve already called Mr. Keegan.”

  “Yes!” Josie punched the air.

  Grandma continued quickly. “He can give me the necessary homework, and you can do it there.”

  “No!” Josie groaned.

  Jenna looked appeased—perhaps even excited.

  Grandma pushed them toward the front door. “Hurry upstairs and go pack a couple bags. I want to leave within the hour.”

  Once they were inside I popped the trunk, and Lee—who was already standing back there—helped push it open to let out the invisible Toni.

  It startled me when I realized Toni wasn’t invisible. As soon as he was free of the trunk he stepped up to Lee, cradling her bruised face delicately in his hands. “Do you need some more Tylenol?” he murmured, deeply concerned.

  Lee shook her head. “I’m fine. It looks a lot worse than it feels.”

  He grunted. “I doubt that.”

  She gave him a quick hug, her large poodle skirt melting around his legs from the cool breeze. “You worry too much. You should have seen me smack that guy. I haven’t picked up Harry Potter for years, but he sure served me well last night.”

  He began to kiss her, as if he couldn’t wait another moment to touch her lips, and I turned around to give them some privacy. I knew Patrick would be only a couple minutes or so behind us, so I decided to figure out what Grandma was planning before he arrived.

  She was still on the porch, waiting for me. Her arms were folded stiffly, her eyes tight with worry. She got right to the point as soon as I stepped up to her, her words quiet. “I can’t keep the twins here, Kate. It’s not fair to them. And I . . . I can’t go through something like last night again.”

  I nodded. I understood completely.

  “I want you to come with us,” Grandma said slowly. “It’s far enough away—we should be safe there until the Guardians can sort everything out.”

 

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