Ancient One: Paranormal Romance (Protectors of the Veil Book 1)

by Ruby Wilder

  Ancient One

  Protectors of the Veil - Book 1

  Ruby Wilder

  Copyright © 2020 by Ruby Wilder

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  RubyWilderAuthor@gmail.com

  www.rubywilder.com

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  About the Author

  1

  My phone's battery was flat. How did I forget to put it on charge again? I would have to endure the bus journey to work in silence. I said silence, but it wasn't really silence - there was coughing coming from behind me, an old lady talked to herself in the aisle over from me, a teenage couple in front of me pushed and shoved each other, giggling, and a drunken man at the back, sang.

  Yeah, silence would have been good. A blessing.

  It was my birthday, my twenty-fifth. And I was at work. Great. Not that I had anything better to do, other than spend it watching TV with my gran.

  What a rockstar.

  I looked out of the window, but only my reflection stared back. The dark rainy night outside lost to the artificial glare inside the bus.

  I worked the night shift. I didn't mind it, not really. The peace and solitude was nice. I could think.

  My job was working as a sales assistant in the gift shop of an English Heritage attraction.

  A stone circle, pretty common in England. They said this one was built as a meeting place or a land marker - but I wasn't so sure.

  It was a popular attraction - during the day. I don't know whose bright idea it was to open it 24/7, but the night shift was dead. Literally. The shop was right in the middle of an ancient graveyard.

  There weren't any headstones, and no-one knew that next to the standing stones was a burial site. They just saw the stone circle. But I knew. I could hear them. The dead. They're quiet, they've been dead for a long time, after all. But I still hear them. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. They don't speak how I speak - I can't understand them. They whisper in a strange tongue. But I get the feeling they don't like me.

  I think that's how I didn't fit in so well at school and college. My mind was always... preoccupied. I seemed aloof. But I wasn't. Not really. I liked to listen. Listen to the trees, to the animals, nature... the dead. I heard them all.

  The bus jerked to a halt. My stop.

  I got up, slinging my bag over my shoulder, and moved into the aisle.

  I was just about to get off the bus when the strange old lady opposite grabbed my hand. Her hand was rough, her grip surprisingly strong. She stared into my eyes, her gaze clear and intelligent beneath steel-grey hair.

  'Ancient One,' she said clearly, bowing her head.

  'I beg your pardon?'

  But she'd gone, eyes clouded over and back to her nonsensical chattering. Her hand limply released mine.

  I walked down the aisle but couldn't resist a glimpse backward at the old dear. She was pointing at the window, snarling.

  Did that just happen? Did she call me Ancient One? I'm only twenty-five - it's hardly old. I'm fairly sure I look my age too.

  It was cold when I got off the bus. The rain stung my face and the wind whipped my dark red curls into my eyes. I pulled my jacket tighter around me. But it didn't help.

  I trudged through the wind and rain, head down, to get to work.

  As I got nearer the stones, I could hear the voices, as usual, but they seemed louder tonight, more urgent. Like they were shouting over the rain, wanting to be heard.

  'Good evening,' I shouted back at them, giving them a wave. It didn't hurt to be polite to them.

  By the time I got into work, I was freezing, wet and miserable. My favourite boots must've sprung a leak because my socks were soaked.

  I said hello to Louise - but she just grunted.

  Probably pissed off because I was five minutes late - and settled down on the stool behind the counter.

  I watched Louise leave, her green hair bobbing up and down as she marched out of the door. She didn't even turn and wave goodbye.

  Tinny pop music played quietly into the empty shop as I glanced in the mirror above the till. My hair was wet and stuck to my head, my makeup had run down my face. I frantically rubbed under my eyes, trying to remove the black smudges of mascara.

  It wasn't working, I looked like a panda. The black around my sockets made my weird green eyes look even odder. The yellow flashes in them stood out brightly. Ugh - little wonder people kept away from me. I looked like a freak.

  At least it was warm in here.

  The surrounding shelves were neatly stacked with garish items trying to tempt tourists to spend their hard-earned cash.

  Pens and pencils, fridge magnets, bookmarks - all adorned with pictures of the standing stones on them. Next to the counter was a stand that held maps of the area, and books written about the history of the stone circle. I'd read them all during my time at the site.

  I knew the shop inside out - there wasn't much else to do during the quiet dead shift.

  Or so I thought.

  I noticed an odd little trinket that I hadn't seen before. Picking it up, I rolled it around in my hand. It was a miniature model of the stone circle, heavy and cold, made of stone - not the usual cheap plastic trash normally sold in here. This felt expensive.

  I put it in my bag.

  Oh, that's another thing about me. I steal stuff - can't help it.

  The door slammed and I jumped.

  Conri. Did he see me snatch the trinket?

  He smirked. Maybe he did see.

  I blushed. He had that effect on me. Tall, broad and so handsome. He had his hair in a man bun. It was unruly. Curly strands stuck out all over the place. I preferred it when he wore it down though. I liked to admire the thick brown mane that went to his shoulders, slightly lighter than his stubble.

  Conri came over and my palms began to sweat. He rested his elbows on the counter and stared at me. He smelled amazing. Like soap and musk. I stared at him. I could stare at him all day. My mouth went dry and there was a flutter in my stomach, he was so fucking... delicious.

  'Maeve?' he asked.

  Oh, shit. He was talking to me and I wasn't listening, lost in his golden-brown eyes again.

  'I'm sorry?'

  'Happy birthday, weirdo!'

  He bent forward and kissed my head. His lips were hot on my forehead.

  He passed me a package.

  It wasn't wrapped or anything. It was in the brown bag he must've got when he bought it. I stared at it, overwhelmed. No one - apart from gran and her friends - had ever remembered my birthday, never mind bought me a gift.

  'Open it then.'

  I looked up at him. Don't cry, idiot.

  'Thanks,' I said, trying to pass it off as nothing.

  I open
ed the brown bag and stuck my hand in. It felt like a rock. But even if it was only a rock, I knew I would treasure it for the rest of my life. My first gift from a friend. A sexy friend.

  I pulled it out - it's green. Oh, it's a frog! It's a rock that's painted to look like a frog!

  'You like frogs, right?' he asked, his brows creasing in thought.

  I nodded, overwhelmed.

  'Are you looking forward to Halloween?' he asked, brightly.

  My forehead burned from where his lips had been. I couldn't concentrate.

  Conri rolled his eyes at me.

  'Hello? Earth calling Maeve, come in Maeve! Halloween? You know, the big party?

  I looked at him, blankly.

  'Jesus, Mae. Are you even of this world?'

  He laughed, and I still didn't know what to say.

  'The big annual Halloween party. The one they have here every year?' he said, shaking his head.

  'I thought you'd be excited. It's your first year working here at Halloween - it's a crazy night!'

  He walked away, laughing. His shoulders were broad in his tight security guard uniform. Get a grip, Mae. He thinks you are an idiot.

  'I just noticed your eyes,' he shouted back at me, 'weird - just like you!'

  He roared with laughter as I watched him start his nightly patrol and turn the corridor into the visitor centre. I could still see him as he started to whistle a tuneless melody. It was just noise, but a happy noise.

  I looked at the frog in my hand. He remembered I collected frogs. Cute, right? I felt like a school kid with their first crush.

  My feet snapped me out from my daydreaming. They were freezing. I should try to dry my boots out somehow. It would be an uncomfortable shift with cold, wet feet.

  I pulled my boots and socks off, smiling. My socks had pictures of frogs on them. I'd had them on a couple of days now, better check them.

  A quick sniff let me know they were fine. Another sniff. I liked the smell of the leather from my boots. Eyes closed, big inhale. Frog socks smelled good.

  I opened my eyes, grinning because of the warm leather scent that was in my nose.

  Oh, crap. Who was he?

  A tall, slim guy was standing staring at me with an unfathomable expression on his handsome face. His eyes were black, like two pieces of jet. Like the jet in my favourite ring.

  I looked down at my fingers to check. Yep. Same.

  He had thick black hair that matched his eyes, pale olive skin and slight stubble. He reminded me of the guy in that film gran always watched - Desperado. I hoped he spoke with a Spanish accent.

  He wore a long grey woollen coat with the collar turned up - to protect him from the awful weather outside I guessed - it was open, and underneath were unremarkable black jeans and a black woollen jumper.

  He stared deeply into my eyes. The hairs on the back of my neck pricked up. This man gave me the creeps. Every fibre in my being told me to run, hide from this predator.

  But I couldn't, he might want to buy a gift from the shop.

  'Can I help you?' I asked, as politely as I could.

  I didn't know where Conri came from, but suddenly he was there, standing beside the stranger.

  Growling.

  I hadn't heard a man growl before. But Conri was definitely growling.

  It made the tall stranger smile and look away from me. He turned his icy stare on Conri instead.

  The growling became louder.

  I still had my frog socks in my hand and tried to discreetly put them down, without these two alpha males noticing.

  What was happening? The air was charged with electricity. Something was going on but I didn't know what it was.

  'I've come to help with security,' the scary, handsome stranger said.

  Aw that was disappointing. He didn't sound Spanish at all. He sounded very English. Old-fashioned almost. Like someone from an old radio show.

  Conri was smirking now.

  'You are the help? He asked.

  'You are the Security?' the stranger replied, looking at Conri's uniform.

  Something exchanged between them that I didn't understand because in the next second they were shaking hands, slapping each other on the back and laughing.

  'C'mon,' Conri said, 'I'll show you around.'

  'I'm Adam, by the way,' the stranger said to me, turning.

  I smiled. 'Maeve.'

  Then he did something odd. He stared at me, smiling. I didn't know what to do. What was he waiting for? He was just standing. Staring. I felt self-conscious. His black eyes pierced into mine and I couldn't look away. The music seemed to get louder and I felt a little disorientated.

  What was happening? I shook my head a little to clear the fuzziness and things shifted back to normal.

  Adam turned and whispered to Conri, 'What is she?'

  'Just human,' came the reply.

  'No. She can't be. Humans can't resist that. She should've succumbed to me.'

  'She's definitely human, mate.'

  They were talking about me as if I wasn't there!

  'I can hear you! I'm here!' I said, angrily.

  Conri looked at me, shocked. 'We weren't talking,' he said, eyes wide.

  Adam turned, a smile on his face and spoke to me, 'See? Definitely not human...' and walked away.

  2

  My shift seemed to drag on forever. 12.30 am - no longer my birthday - and I still had six hours left to go.

  The incident earlier with Conri and Adam played on my mind.

  What did they say? What was I? That was a strange thing to ask. Then to say they weren't talking about me when I could hear them. And to say I wasn't human, well, that was just rude!

  What a strange day it had been.

  I lived with my gran; she'd brought me up after my parents died when I was only a few months old. There's always only been the two of us - my and gran and me.

  My gran - what a wonderful woman, seventy-five years old and still full of life, eyes that still sparkle with mischief.

  I hadn't woken until 6.00 pm. I probably should've woken earlier because gran was standing at the bottom of my bed bouncing up and down in excitement with my birthday present in her hand.

  Sleepily, I rubbed my eyes. 'Morning, gran,' I said.

  'Happy birthday to ya, happy birthday to ya, happy birthday!' she sang, Stevie Wonder style.

  I sat up laughing. She was such a character!

  'Twenty-five. My big girl,' she said with pride. She always called me her big girl.

  She was a tiny woman, slim, with a short, trendy silver bob and always well-dressed - I'd never seen her without her hair done and makeup on in public.

  From behind her back, she brought a gift, wrapped up in a paper that had chickens and eggs on. Something leftover from Easter I guessed.

  She always wrapped gifts up in whatever she had to hand. One Christmas all my presents were wrapped up in wallpaper - because it was pretty she'd said. And it had been.

  I smiled and reached out for my gift, 'Thanks, gran.'

  But she held on to the small package.

  'Before you open it, remember - Que sera sera, whatever will be will be.'

  'Okay...' I said, frowning. What was she going on about now?

  I took the package. It was buzzing slightly. I looked at gran, but her face was unreadable.

  Was she playing a trick on me? Was a wind-up pair of teeth going to jump out, chattering? Or a snake pop out of a tin?

  I was nervous, but I carefully unwrapped the small package.

  It was a carved wooden box, oak, I thought. It was so old it was smooth to the touch, all the corners worn away into curves. There was no embellishment or design on it, the only pattern was the grain of the wood.

  It felt solid and heavy in my hand.

  'Gran, it's beautiful,' I gasped.

  'Open it,' she instructed.

  The buzzing was coming from inside the box. I could tell that now. What was inside? What would I find?

  I knew there w
as no joke, no trick. This felt important. The atmosphere seemed to change around us. Electrify. Gran looked at the box expectantly.

  I opened it and saw a carved dark grey pendant on an old leather cord inside.

  Gently I picked it out, it was exquisite.

  Was it flint? It had a single vertical line down the middle with a series of smaller horizontal lines coming from both sides.

  It felt ancient. Its history weighed heavy in my hands. This had belonged to many people before me. Many great people.

  'What are the markings?' I asked.

  'It's Ogham. Put it on,' gran said.

  I did as I was told, fastening the cord around my neck. It was heavy against my chest and I could feel the slight buzzing.

  Gran gasped. I looked at her, and she had her hands to her face.

  'What's wrong?'

  She didn't reply but was staring at the pendant. I followed her eyes. It had changed colour! It was purple now.

  'I knew it!' she shrieked, jumping off the bed.

  'Just like me and your mum. The line is strong!' she continued.

  'What line?' I ask, confused.

  'It's tradition. When a girl in our family turns twenty-five, she inherits the pendant, she gets the power.'

  'What power?’

  ‘Gran? What power?'

  ‘Gran?’

  Gran was walking backwards and forwards in the bedroom, muttering to herself. She was unable to contain her excitement.

  'Your mum - may the great Goddess rest her soul - only had it a few months before she died.

  It's been waiting for you to come of age for twenty-five years. It's never been unworn for so long, always been around the neck of an Ancient One.

  I thought maybe the magic would've left it, but no! It's still strong!'

  'Magic? Gran...'

  'I have to tell The Circle,' she said to no one in particular.