by S. A. Moss
Arjun was a nice guy with a good sense of humor, but extremely “by the book.” I was beginning to wonder if there was some correlation between how old a Guardian was and how inflexible they were. Compared to the other Guardians, who were anywhere from two hundred to many thousands of years old, I was definitely a young whippersnapper. But just because I was young didn’t automatically make me wrong—and I had some serious reservations about the Council’s approach to certain things.
“Gee, thanks for the support, Arjun,” I muttered. “I’ll try to follow your example next time. I must’ve gotten…carried away.”
Probably sensing that this conversation was only going to get more tense the longer it went on, Alex interjected. “We didn’t get any information from the bug-demon, unfortunately. As far as we could tell, this one wasn’t connected to Cam’s father or Akaron.”
Pearl nodded, her bright eyes thoughtful. “I’ll inform the council.”
“Have they been able to dig up any leads?” I asked eagerly. I’d seen Pearl and Arjun yesterday, but a lot could happen in a day.
She shook her head. “Nothing. They’ve got several teams of Guardians out searching for your father, but the Council is also very concerned with fortifying the Haven. Any Guardians not on active assignment have been recalled there.” A small smile brightened her face. “The circumstances are terrible, but I must admit, I like having so many people around. The Haven is much less quiet than it was when you arrived.”
I grinned. I’d never understood why the Seer had assigned Pearl to a job in the Haven when she was so obviously suited for a life of adventure. “I bet.”
“We’ll tell the Council what you said. And I’ll let them know that you plan to be more discreet in the future.”
“Thanks, Pearl. I promise, I’ll try.”
Her arched brow told me she knew exactly how well that would go.
“I don’t get it.” My voice echoed in the stairwell as I followed Alex up to his apartment. “Why all this secrecy? The Fallen aren’t worried about staying under the radar. And trying to fight them while staying undercover just makes our job a hundred times harder. It gives us a handicap they don’t have.”
As Sada had explained to me, “Fallen” was a catch-all term for the immortal beings that populated the Shroud—those whose souls hadn’t answered the call to become Guardians. Among the Fallen were all variety of strange supernatural creatures. Demons, banshees, wraiths, golems, and other monsters straight out of nightmares.
Alex shook his head. “Maybe they’re worried about how humans will react. I didn’t exactly take it well when I found out I had a supernatural being following me.”
“Yeah, but you were at Paradise helping me kick Fallen butt the next night.”
He threw a grin over his shoulder at me. “Well, I’m a special case.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, the door on the second floor landing burst open and Evelyn appeared. The large laundry basket she was carrying almost dwarfed her small frame, and her thin hands clung to the sides with an iron grip.
When she saw us, she stopped, balancing the basket on her hips. “Oh, hello you two! You’re back late.” She grinned wickedly as she took in my appearance. “Must’ve been a good date.”
Alex chuckled. “Yeah, uh, it…was.”
I snuck a glance down at myself. Since I hadn’t been able to stab the bug-demon, my hands and clothes were blessedly free of bloodstains. After throwing away the outfit I’d worn to the fight in Paradise—sorry, Sarah—I’d picked up a few new items for my limited wardrobe. The borrowed clothes Pearl had given me in the Haven hadn’t seemed like my style at first, but I found that Asha’s fashion sense had grown on me. Nowadays my outfits mostly consisted of black tank tops, tight black pants, and knee high boots.
At the moment, my pink bra strap was hanging down my arm on one side, and my dark brown hair had fallen halfway out of the ponytail I’d pulled it into. Alex looked similarly disheveled.
I sighed. Alex had flat-out told Evelyn we were dating, so I could hardly blame the sweet and incredibly nosy old woman for thinking we’d just gotten to third base—or hell, rounded home.
I just wished she could be a little less gleeful about it.
“It was…really windy out there,” I added lamely, trying to smooth down my wild bird’s nest of hair.
“Oh, yes. I’m sure it was.” Her light blue eyes darted between the two of us, and I had the strangest feeling she was imagining what our future babies would look like.
Great.
“Well, it was great to see you again, Evelyn. But it’s late, and I’m kind of tired, so…”
I let that hang in the air, wondering how long her thin arms could possibly support that huge basket. With my luck, probably forever.
“Of course! Of course! You go up and get right to bed.”
“Uh, thanks, Eve. Have a good evening. We’ll do another movie night soon.” Alex led the way past her.
Evelyn stepped closer to the wall, giving us ample room to continue up the steps. As we walked by, she winked and waggled her eyebrows at me.
Earth, please swallow me now.
4
When we rounded the next landing and were out of Eve’s earshot, Alex glanced at me, his cheeks pink. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I love Eve. And she’s just happy you’re happy. Or, I mean, that she thinks you’re happy. Or that she thinks you should be happy…”
As always, when it came to discussions of our fake relationship, my foot lodged itself firmly in my mouth in about two seconds.
I did love Evelyn. She was sweet and tough, and she’d taken Alex under her wing like a grandmother. But her enthusiasm for seeing him with a girlfriend made what was already a strange situation between us even more awkward.
Alex’s green eyes shone as he opened the door and gestured me through. “I am happy. I get to spend my days kicking Fallen ass with you. What’s not to be happy about?”
My stomach gave a little flutter, but I forced it to settle, choosing to focus on the “kicking Fallen ass” part of his statement instead of the “with you” part.
We’re just partners. That’s all.
His apartment looked pretty much the same as it had all those weeks I’d been secretly watching over him as his assigned Guardian. As promised, I was an extremely low-maintenance roommate; I didn’t need to eat or sleep, and I had no earthly possessions except a single picture of my father. So there wasn’t much indication of my presence in his apartment even though I was no longer staying here undercover.
While Alex showered, I settled onto the couch, closing my eyes and letting my head flop back against the cushion as my body relaxed into the soft upholstery. For the past three weeks, I’d done my best to keep moving—practicing fighting and aether manipulation, hunting the Fallen, searching everywhere for any sign of my father. Anything really, so long as it didn’t give me time to settle too deeply into my thoughts.
The wound of finding out my father had intentionally abandoned me as a child and turned traitor to the Guardians was no longer fresh, but it hadn’t healed well. Like an untreated gash, it was festering inside me, growing hot and angry. Whenever I mentally poked at it, an acute ache filled my chest. Even now, a single tear burned its way from beneath my eyelid and rolled down my cheek.
“Up.”
At the sound of Alex’s voice, my eyes snapped open. He was standing in front of the couch, a hand extended down toward me. I hastily brushed away the tear before accepting his hand and letting him draw me to my feet. I was sure he’d noticed I was crying, but he didn’t comment on it.
Instead, he pulled me into the middle of the room then released me. He’d thrown on a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt that clung to the solid muscles of his slightly damp upper body.
“Ready?” he prompted, holding his hands up in front of him, palms out.
I grumbled, but already I felt a bit better—just doing something helped.
Squaring up, I mentally checked my form. Hands up, legs slightly bent, fingers bent into loose fists. When I was satisfied with my pose, I laid a quick one-two punch on Alex’s left palm.
“Good.” He nodded approvingly, then clapped his hands together before resetting them by his face.
I threw out another punch, but before my jab could make contact, Alex slipped his hand out of the way. My fist hit nothing but air.
Alex shook his head, grinning. “Too slow. One point for me.”
I scrunched up my face at him. “Fine. In high school, I was obsessed with the Dropkick Murphys.”
“The what-kick who’s?”
“Dropkick Murphys. They’re a Celtic punk band.”
“What, no N’Sync?”
My eyes widened in mock horror. “And betray Al Barr?”
He laughed. “You’re a strange duck, Camille Prentice.”
“Hey, you wanted to know!”
“I absolutely did.”
Alex held his hands up again, and I danced lightly on the balls of my feet as if I was a trained boxer and not an extremely amateur Guardian/demon hunter. He’d come up with this game a couple weeks ago as a way to remedy the uneven distribution of personal knowledge between us. I knew way more about him than I should from my time spent following him around in secret, but he’d known much less about me. It wasn’t fair, and it had been a definite cause of tension between us. Thus, this game was born.
The premise was simple; I practiced my fighting skills, and if I missed a punch or Alex was able to tag me with a counterstrike, then I owed him one piece of information about me. It could be anything—a like, a dislike, an embarrassing story, a funny memory. It just had to be about me, and it had to be true.
I snapped my fist out suddenly, and it hit his palm with a solid smack. Before I could rejoice in my victory, his opposite hand swiped out in a horizontal arc. I ducked, but I was too late, and he lightly tapped the side of my head.
“Point for me.” His dimple popped out as he smirked. It’d be annoying if it weren’t so damn sexy.
Scratch that. It was annoying because it was so damn sexy.
“Yeah, yeah.” I pursed my lips, thinking. “Ummm, okay. My foster mom and I were never really close, but when I was fifteen a boy stood me up on a date, and she drove over to his house to yell at him. It was the most she ever felt like a real mother to me.”
Alex dropped his hands, his brows furrowing. “Someone stood you up on a date?”
“Well, it was high school. All boys are idiots in high school. I never really dated much before or after that. Didn’t have the time for it.”
His voice softened. “I’m sorry. He was a jerk. And definitely an idiot.”
I smiled crookedly, attempting to ignore the heated look in his eyes. “Eh, it was a lifetime ago. Literally.”
Alex hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something else—but instead, he clapped his hands and reset them once again. I managed to land several sharp punches to his outstretched palms and successfully ducked his next swipe.
Then he stopped taking it easy on me.
I might be supernatural, but Alex was the one who moved with nearly inhuman speed. As quickly as my fist lashed out, his hand always moved a beat faster, slipping to the side just before I could make contact. Over the next few minutes, I spilled my guts about my favorite color (green), my lucky number (seventeen), my favorite childhood memory (baking chocolate chip scones with my mom), and how I’d taught myself to drive stick shift in high school.
Finally, determined not to let him score another point, I threw a volley of punches toward his right palm.
As I’d grown more emotionally invested in winning, my technique had started to slip; instead of keeping my back leg rooted, I let the momentum of the punch pull me toward Alex. When his hand slipped out of the way and my fist sailed past it, my back leg came off the ground and I stumbled forward.
Alex caught me around the waist as I crashed into him, and the two of us went down together. He landed beneath me with a soft “Oomph,” cushioning my fall. My hands ended up on the floor on either side of his face, and I looked down at him in embarrassment.
“Oh shit! I’m sorry! I was just trying to score a point.”
He sucked in a breath, laughing. “Is this going to become your signature move?”
“Tripping over my own feet and falling on my opponent? Probably.”
Alex’s eyes met mine, and something warm and intense burned in their depths. His voice dropped slightly. “Point for me.”
Oh. Yeah. The game.
I breathed shallowly, trying not to inhale too much of his clean, sandalwood scent. My heart beat thickly in my chest, revving back to life. Whether he’d meant to or not, he’d just turned me mortal.
I swallowed, licking my lips. “My… favorite color is green.”
Deep green eyes blinked up at me as his hands tightened on my waist. “You already told me that.”
Right.
I was having a bit of trouble thinking with his face so close to mine. Maybe that’s why I blurted out the next true thing that came to mind.
“I’m—scared.”
His grip on my waist tightened.
“Of what?” he asked softly.
“So many things.” My voice went quiet. “I’m scared of turning into my dad. I’m scared of finding out what happened to my mom. I’m scared of not finding out what happened to her. I’m scared of making the wrong decisions, of letting the Council down, of you getting hurt.”
Alex’s hands skated up my sides and down my arms to wrap around my wrists. “I won’t get hurt.”
“You don’t know that,” I whispered, biting my lip.
“No, I guess I don’t. But I’ll try really hard not to.” He hesitated. “I’m scared too.”
Hesitantly, I searched his eyes. “Of what?”
A smile crooked the corner of his mouth. “So many things.”
He squeezed my wrists gently, and warmth flooded my body, my heart rate picking up. His lips were so close to mine. And was it my imagination, or were they getting closer? I couldn’t tell if I was moving or he was, but the force drawing us together seemed irresistible.
“Meeeeoorrrw.”
A fluffy gray face popped into my peripheral vision inches from my face, and I nearly leapt out of my skin.
Otis meowed again, the noise both plaintive and angry.
Alex jerked in surprise too. The two of us scrambled up, dusting ourselves off quickly. Unfulfilled tension still hung heavy in the air between us, but before I could say anything, he muttered something about going to bed and bolted to his room.
Suddenly alone in the living room, I looked back down at Otis. His scrunched gray face turned up toward me, and I swore his little feline expression actually turned smug. Then he trotted after Alex into the bedroom, tail held high.
Damn. That cat really did not like me.
5
“Dude! Dude! Check this—oh hey, Cam—check this out.”
The door to Windy City MMA had barely closed behind us, and Seth was already showing off his latest moves. Instead of attacking the heavy bag, he worked his way across the room, demolishing what appeared to be a mob of imaginary opponents with a series of kicks, rolls, and exaggerated punches.
I grinned. If only non-imaginary opponents were so helpful, lining up in a nice orderly fashion to get their asses kicked. In my limited experience, the creatures I fought were never that cooperative.
Seth finished his sequence with a flourish, ending up in a low lunge with his arms raised dramatically.
Alex grinned. “Wow. No survivors, huh?”
“They should’ve known better than to take me on.” Seth bounded up, his gangly gait reminding me of a puppy. He bobbed and weaved in front of me, and I lightly tagged his upper arm with a right hook. He gripped his shoulder as if mortally wounded and staggered to the side. “Ooh, got me! Damn, dude, your girlfriend is fierce.”
A laugh bubb
led out of my mouth. Seth had decided he liked me the minute I’d approached Alex in a bar—to proposition him, as far as Seth knew—and his opinion had never changed. He hadn’t batted an eye when Alex had introduced me as his girlfriend a few days later, and he seemed to hold me in some kind of awe.
I tapped Seth with a left hook, and he stumbled to the other side. “Have mercy, woman.”
“You goof. There’s no way I’d stand a chance against you.”
Alex nudged my shoulder. “Don’t believe her. I’ve been teaching her some moves, and she’s getting really good.”
Seth’s eyes widened and he grinned. I laughed awkwardly, trying not to glow at the unexpected compliment. I worked my ass off every night, running drills in the basement for hours while Alex slept, so my growing skills weren’t accidental. But the look of pride on Alex’s face as he glanced at me made me feel a little giddy.
Seth beamed at me too, and the wave of positive feelings and support washing over me was really more than I could handle. Because I didn’t know what to do when people were this nice to me, I did nothing, staring at the two men awkwardly until the door opened behind us, announcing the first student’s arrival for class.
Letting the young boy and his mother brush past me, I turned to Alex. “Well, I better go. Have a good class.”
“Thanks. See you later.”
“I’ll try to swing by afterward and meet you.”
As Seth continued to grin broadly at me, I leaned in to deliver a quick peck to Alex’s lips.
Alex stiffened slightly, as he always did when we kissed in public.
I couldn’t blame him. Despite the fact that I couldn’t stop imagining what might’ve happened if Otis hadn’t stuck his fat face between us last night, I hated kissing Alex like this. The first time I’d gone out with him as his “girlfriend,” I’d been so unsure how to act that I’d almost said goodbye with a firm handshake—which wouldn’t exactly have sold the “madly in love” bit we were playing.
