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The story continues with Ariana…
AVAILABLE NOW – IF I STAY: GUARDIAN ANGEL SERIES, BOOK 1
By Melissa Johnson
When JUSTIN MONTROSE, a former captain in the British Army and the new fifth Duke of Claymore, is rescued from highwaymen by a mysterious beauty, their meeting sets in motion his search for an angel. As he will discover, the truth of ARIANA’s identity is more than most ordinary men can swallow. Not only is his angel a member of the Order of Guardians, an eclectic group of time travelers, but she has a surprising tie to his world and time. Will that tie, and the growing attraction between them, be enough for her to abandon her calling as a Guardian? If not, does he have a place in her world? He’s not certain, and when his angel needs rescuing herself and loses her memory, he takes his chance and smothers his conscience to rewrite her past. But it’s hard work to maintain a lie - - especially when Ariana has a secret locked in her mind that her former Guardian colleagues are desperate for her to remember.
Excerpt: If I Stay: Guardian Angel Series, Book 1
Northern England – December, 1809
If her uncle found out about this, she knew exactly what he would say. Everyone would hear what he had to say. He would say it so loudly the dust would rain down from the Castle’s rafters.
“The Order of Guardians is not an animal rescue service!”
That is what he’d say.
“Well, it should be,” she muttered. But with luck, Uncle Thaddeus would never know she’d been gone. Before she’d teleported, she’d cast a spell to hide her whereabouts, and it was a good spell too. She was nearly ninety-nine percent certain it would work.
Now all she had to do was open her eyes.
Ariana opened one eye and saw white. Promising. She opened the other eye. More white. The stark sameness of ground and sky made her dizzy until the mist thinned and a horizon of bare-branched trees righted her world. Most important, she recognized the bank of the very pond she’d been looking down on mere seconds ago from the Castle’s Tower room. It didn’t, couldn’t, however, compare to how it felt now, to be in the image. As if she’d been swallowed whole.
She gulped. At least she hoped she’d arrived whole! She patted her arms, legs, and other body parts in a quick assessment––yes, all in one piece! Heavens! She’d really done it. She’d teleported through time and space as if she were a seasoned Guardian well beyond her fourteen years. Her success made her giddy and she pressed a hand against her stomach, willing it to stop fluttering like a thousand migrating butterflies coming in for a landing.
The flutter in her stomach, at least, was a familiar sensation. Her talent for teleportation had shown itself early, and she’d been a frequent, world-class traveler since the tender age of four. “Child prodigy,” “gifted,” and possessing a “remarkable raw talent” had been the terms bandied about. But her early promise had burned out with a disappointing sputter, her talent too unpredictable to be of value. She’d long since fallen behind the technical proficiency of her classmates. Not in ability exactly, but in discipline. As Uncle Thaddeus pointed out, she lacked a sense of direction. He’d said it often enough each and every time he recovered his wayward niece.
But today she’d lived up to her talent! This trip marked the first time she’d actually wound up where she’d intended to go. She’d used the image enhancers, even though it had felt a bit like spying, to direct her journey.
Her classmates would be so jealous! Uncle Thaddeus would finally be proud.
She bit her lip. Too bad she could not tell her classmates. Or her uncle. Or anyone.
As much her wounded pride craved acknowledgement, her tarnished reputation had proven too advantageous to worry about polishing it now. Uncle Thaddeus must not know, and if she told her classmates, they would tell on her (as they’d have to, and she didn’t blame them about that) and she’d spend the rest of the semester locked out of the Tower. And that would be a shame since getting locked into the Tower as a punishment had been the very devil to manipulate.
But if her uncle found out where she’d gone…
She shuddered. For some reason, anything to do with early nineteenth century England guaranteed a very bad reaction. She didn’t know why that time or place was forbidden to her, which of course, made her curious. Very curious.
A whimper disturbed the quiet stillness, the mournful sound reminding her why she’d come. Her Subject! She spun toward where she thought she’d heard the sound, but the mist had reformed, rising from the ice to swirl around her in gossamer layers. Where was he? She took a step and sucked in a breath as icy cold water soaked through the flimsy fabric of her slippers. Slippers? She scowled down at her feet and lifted the hem of her cloak, although visual confirmation was hardly required for what her cold toes were screaming. Blast it all anyway, in her haste to leave the Castle she’d forgotten to change her shoes!
Quick-stepping in place to avoid prolonged contact with the ice, Ariana reluctantly admitted she’d declared perfection too soon. How could anyone visualize all the details? As planned, she wore the thick red cloak she’d memorized from fashion sketches, but hadn’t she thought of what to wear under the cloak? Frowning, she noticed the ruffled white hem. She groaned. Double blast! No, she had not. She wore her slippers and her nightgown.
Oh, dear. A nervous giggle welled up. It could have been worse. She might have arrived with no clothes at all! Ah, well. Better for this error to occur now, on this isolated pond, than to occur when she teleported into a crowded place.
And the ice you’re standing on is melting.
There was that.
Oh, there! She finally spotted the shaggy black coat of the dog. Stranded on his floating island of ice, he ran back and forth, yipping at what amounted to the mainland out of reach. It would take several steps more across the ice to get close enough to call encouragement and hope he’d be convinced to jump. She thought about teleporting closer, but decided that would be unwise. The sudden weight of her body would put her clear through the ice.
And no one would know.
Guiltily, Ariana thought about the instruction she’d heard more than one of her teachers say about always letting another Guardian know her mission. At the moment, that Rule made a bit more sense than it had when she’d heard it. But she could do this herself.
“Easy, boy. I’m coming.”
It was her duty to help him. And more than that, she felt a bond with the dog. They were both on thin ice. She took another step, trying hard to ignore both her cold ankles and her nearly numb feet.
“You there! Get away from there!”
Ariana shrieked. Her first thought, the unthinkable. Uncle Thaddeus had found her! She whipped her head toward the voice, her panic prolonged by a millisecond when the hood of her cape hid her view. Impatiently, she flung it back. On the bank of the pond a man sat astride a massive black horse. The stallion pawed the ground and blew great puffs of air like a dragon.
She blinked to clear her vision of the apparition, but it remained. Oh, dear. She’d been seen. But at least it wasn’t her uncle.
The dog yipped excitedly at the man as if in recognition. He made an attempt to jump, but lost his nerve and aborted his leap at the last instant. His owner, perhaps? For a moment, common sense told her she should heed the man’s command and relinquish her responsibility. She should disappear now – just slip away into the mist and no one would be the wiser. That was exactly what she should do, she thought, as the rider dismounted –awkwardly, she noted. He leaned heavily against his mount as if borrowing strength. Poised for an escape, Ariana hesitated. Looking closer, she could make out his empty sleeve flapping in the breeze. His arm beneath his coat was held in some sort of sling. He was hurt? What could he do with only one good arm?
“Stay back, sir!” she ordered. “I have the situation in hand.”
“Have you now?” An i
ncredulous look crossed his face. A youthful face it was, she realized, even if the dark stubble gave his features a dangerous look. Her initial assessment of his helplessness wavered. “Little girl, from where I stand you are in a heap of trouble.”
Little girl, he’d said. That stung. Ariana narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. “Then you should be glad you are not standing where I am, should you not?”
Her mind made up, she turned away. She would not abandon her charge – not when she was so close. And she must act quickly before the injured man did something foolish and complicated her rescue. She crouched low and called encouragement to the dog.
“Jump, boy!”
To her surprise, the dog jumped. His front legs landed on the edge of ice, his claws digging deep furrows as he scrambled to gain footing. He wasn’t going to make it.
Oh, no! Horrified, Ariana lunged for him, heedless of her own safety. Leaning precariously forward, she placed her hand on the back of the dog’s head to give him leverage.
“Come on boy, just a bit further. You can do it!”
With a huge effort she pushed. The dog lurched from the water, but her forward momentum, however, did not stop. With a shriek, Ariana fell face first into the icy water, without even a second to close her mouth. She swallowed water, sinking like a stone. Her cloak floated upward, binding her arms. Teleport! Escape! But her mind had gone blank. What was the spell? Instinct alone and not an ounce of magic propelled her limbs to kick until she broke the surface, coughing and sputtering.
“Help!”
Had that terrified voice been her own? The cold hurt. A thousand arrows pierced her skin. She wanted out now. She clawed at the icy ledge, knowing exactly how the dog had felt a moment ago.
“Keep your head up! I’m coming!”
Flailing to keep her head above water, she looked toward the bank and saw the man throw off his coat. Her panic only grew as she realized his intent. His weight would be too much for the ice.
“Stay…back!” She gasped the words. Either he did not hear her or did not listen. And neither did he gingerly cross the ice. He ran. The Englishman was insane! Suddenly, her thoughts cleared and she knew exactly what to do to teleport. She could save herself. But what of him? If she disappeared, what would he do? He’d think she’d slipped beneath the ice. If she left now, would she have his death on her conscience?
As he ran, he let out what sounded to her like an other-worldly battle cry. She cringed when he reached the very edge of the ice and leapt, splashing into the water next to her. His arm – that one good arm – snaked around her waist, pulling her down, down, down. She decided he meant to drown them both.
Down she went again, surfacing solely on his power. Again she came up sputtering. Anchored to his side, she felt him give a great shudder. “Damn that’s cold.”
Was it? It didn’t seem so cold anymore. Without him holding her up, she knew she would sink. But how did he hold her up? She couldn’t understand how he somehow he held her with his one good arm and stayed afloat.
“Hang on to me,” he grunted, shifting her body as she slid lower. “Put your arms around my neck.”
“C-can’t.” Her strength was exhausted.
“Try!” He shouted loudly into her ear. “Back, Finnegan!”
On his command the horse stepped back. Only then did she notice the rope tied under his arms and the other end tied to his horse. Ariana managed to lift her heavy, frozen arms around his neck as they were pulled from the pond.
What happened next she hardly remembered. All she had were hazy memories of being wrapped in a dry blanket and carried on a horse to promised warmth. How he did it she didn’t know, but she’d underestimated what he could do with one good arm.
Tucked into a warm bed that night by a kindly housekeeper, Ariana tossed and turned with unsettled dreams. On her first rescue, her biggest fear had been realized. When it mattered most, she’d failed. She’d panicked. In the end, he had rescued her.
***
Now, six years later, here she was again. So much had changed and yet so much remained the same.
Ariana leaned her head against his horse. “Oh, Finnigan, old friend, how can I do this?”
Justin was hurt. This time she would rescue him. But of all the training she had received as a Guardian, the lessons in the medical arts were the ones she dreaded the most. She simply didn’t have the stomach for blood.
***
The Castle: Prequel to the Guardian Angel Series Page 19
