by Angel Lawson
I sense something. A twinge of jealousy or misplaced anger. I understand what it’s like to listen and feel Morgan being intimate with the other guardians while you have to wait your turn. I get that. That was me until hours ago, but patience is key and Bunny knows this. I’m not going to give him that speech.
“We’re going out today,” I say, changing the subject. “I’m taking her to the park where I saw the anomaly the other day while on a shoot.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Maybe an opening,” I say. “I want to see if she has a reaction to it.”
He nods and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a scrap of paper. “Will you swing by and pick this up? It’s for the spell.”
The paper has an address not far from Times Square. “Yeah, we can stop there.”
He smiles, the tense expression from earlier gone. “Thanks. I think we’re pretty close to getting all of the ingredients.”
“And then we’ll try it?” I’m hesitant. The book and magic are strange and carry a hint of darkness. It’s risky but I’m not here to assert my opinions. It’s Morgan’s choice. I do know that not everyone agrees with that position.
“I think we should.” That’s all he says because we both know who the hold out will be: Dylan. Even if he’s stepped aside now, he’ll fight her about it in the end.
I’d be willing to pay for seats to that showdown.
Chapter Eleven
Morgan
“It’s nice to get out of the house.” I follow Sam down a winding path. We walked out the front door, across the road and entered the park. “I miss trees, you know? We had so many back home.”
“I remember.” He grins. “I miss them too.”
I think about that. “Do you miss being a raven? Damien said that’s why he rides a motorcycle—for the sensation.”
“We’ve had many forms, but I think I like this one the best.” He squeezes my hand and I get a little flutter in my belly. Last night with him was amazing. Sex is one level of intimacy but the way he healed me…now that I know angels are real, I think Sam may be part one. My cheeks burn thinking about it and I can’t help but watch the way he moves.
He glances over, linking his thumb in the camera strap over his shoulder. “What?”
“You.” I watch a flock of pigeons fly overhead. “That was unexpected last night.”
“Which part?”
“All of it. You, the healing. The way you felt…” I swallow, “inside me. Can everyone do that? The healing part?”
He nods and it’s not nearly as awkward as it should be to discuss my increasing sex life with his co-guardians. “It’s just like how we absorb the Darkness. We’re here to serve you.”
We reach a bend in a wooded section of the park. Sam steps off the path and guides me to follow. We leave the bright sun behind for the shady trees. “What are we looking for again?”
“There’s a clearing on the other side. This is a shortcut. I wanted you to get a good view.”
“A good view of a possible gate?” Goosebumps rise on my arms and down my neck at the idea. I don’t like it.
“There’s something over here. I saw it the other day. Here, look.”
He stops and holds up his camera. Photos flip by as he presses the button. He slows and I see a series of shots that look similar to the area we’re in. He stops on one in particular and hands it over. I peer down at the image.
It’s a simple patch of grass, and picnickers are spread here and there. A few children and a dog are in the scene. In the back corner though I see a slight variation. It looks almost like a smudge but when I run my finger over the screen it’s still there.
“You think that’s it?”
“I can’t see it with my bare eye. Just the camera. I thought you may have a different reaction.”
I step over a large branch. “Why me?”
“If the Darkness is really on the other side of that thing it’s going to want to check you out.”
I freeze. “You want me to bring out the Darkness?”
“No.” He frowns. “Well…we’ve got to get a step ahead of this, Morgan.”
“So is this just another test, like Clinton taking me to that fight last night?” I don’t want to be a pawn. Not like this. Not by these men.
Sam must sense my shift in attitude. He reaches out and touches my cheek. I jerk back, not wanting to be consoled. “Hey,” he says, reaching for me. I pull away again but he fights back, wrapping his hands around my waist. “These aren’t tests. They’re reality. Are we going about them in a systematic way? Yes, because look what happened when you stumbled upon it on your own?”
“Xavier.”
“Right, Xavier. So, call it what you want, but I’m just here to check something out and have you help me. Sounds like a partnership to me.”
He releases me and walks off, hurt that I’d been suspicious. The farther he goes the more embarrassed I am at thinking badly of him and his motives. I give myself a moment to shake off the attitude but when I look up he’s gone. I start moving through the woods going in the direction I thought he’d taken. I step to the right and a voice in my head whispers, wrong way.
I know the voice. It’s the voice that urged me to kiss Xavier. The one that taunted me in the fight with Hildi. It’s the Morrigan, and fear ripples down my limbs.
“Sam!” I call, picking up my pace and chasing him down. As much as I want to ignore her I follow her directions, pretty sure he’s going to the place she wants me to be. I catch up to him at the edge of the field. He’s still in the shade when I reach him but I’m nearly struck down when I feel the blast of cold air blow through the air.
“Did you feel that?” I ask, running my hands up and down my arms. It’s still late summer. It’s hot out and everyone in the area is wearing shorts and T-shirts, including me and Sam. But that’s not what I feel and I shiver when another gale rips through the trees.
“No, what?”
“The cold air? The breeze? It feels like the arctic out here.”
His green eyes widen and he pulls out his camera, the shutter clicking even before he’s got it pointed in the right direction. I scan the field and I realize quickly I don’t need his filter to show me the gate. It’s clearly visible to me in the middle of the field. Dark and shimmery. Part this world and part another.
I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. My feet move, stepping from the woods and in the direction of the gate. The click of the camera fades, the voices of the children playing disappear. The grass crunches beneath my feet, brittle from the cold. I ignore the burning sensation of the charm around my neck and the ring on my finger.
Step inside little sister, she coaxes. See what the Otherside has to offer.
I do take a step forward. Not intentional but more like my feet are being pulled like magnets. There’s no hesitation, just a strong, insistent pull. I don’t fight it. I can’t.
(Do I want to?)
The air grows colder, harsher. My eyelashes freeze. The sky is the color of coal and smells like dry, charred ash. I feel the grit on my skin, taste it on my tongue. But then, the strangest thing happens. I feel warm under my skin. A deep energy that crackles with the twitch of my muscles.
Welcome home, the voice says.
I blink and gray slithers beneath my feet, heading out the gate and into my world. The worlds battle, a hazy fight over space. A weight tugs at my hand and I lift my arm and see the glint of my sword. Leather creaks and I look down to see my outfit has changed. I’m in warrior dress. Sleek leather skirt and leggings. Bone-crushing boots. The sword hums in my hand and the incessant voice murmurs in my ear, “That sword belongs to you, Morgan. To this world. It’s the weapon for a warrior—a goddess. It was created to take the life of your enemies. It pierced the heart of Cu, after he ripped yours out of your chest. Still beating. Still bloody. Still loving. Do you really trust these Guardians with their weak magic and secretive ways? Their tricks and seduction. Are they any different than Cu? Will they
allow your righteous place when the gate falters? Will you lead them in battle or will you fight against them?”
“Shut up.”
“What makes you think they’re any better? That they won’t betray you? Use them to gain your strength, to further your knowledge, and then fight with me. Unleash the rage deep in your soul. My soul. Together we can conquer your world as well as this one.”
I stare out into the desolate landscape and notice a dark spot on the horizon. I wave my sword and the sky clears, still a slate gray but less sand and wind. I take another step forward and squint. Unless I’m imaging it, imaging all of it, there’s a castle in the distance.
“Morgan!” a voice cries in my ear. Feeling an intense pull, I take another step, wanting to see the castle. In a blink I realize the lure isn’t the gate. No, it’s the castle.
“Morgan!”
I’m jerked physically, but dig the heels of my boots into the dusty ground. I swing an elbow behind me, at the hands tugging me away. Away from this world. Away from my destiny. The sword glints and I clench my hand around the hilt.
Kill them.
“You don’t own me!” I shout, raising it over my head in a lethal swing. The blade slices between the worlds, the sunlight offering a blinding reflection before it comes back to me in the gray of the Otherside. The hands reappear, four of them, and I use my feet as well as my hands. Into the cold air I shout, “No!” only wanting to get to that castle. Only wanting to get home.
My feet are swiped beneath me and I land hard on my back. The sword falls when my elbow strikes the hard, frozen ground. I struggle. I scream. Words of anger and rage passing over my lips. And when the air turns from bitter cold to scorching heat I’m sure the world has ended.
My world has ended.
Two hands hold me by the thighs and other by the shoulder. I squint into the too-bright light. “How dare you,” I breathe, but the words sound foreign and the faces that appear belong to the men sent by the gods to protect me.
Sam and Dylan.
Their muscles strain and I realize I’m still fighting. Who? I don’t know. Why? I haven’t the faintest other than it’s important. Very important.
“Morgan!” Dylan shouts, his voice carrying an edge I’ve never heard before. I clench my jaw and swallow back the pain, the voice inside.
Another set of hands touches my face. Glasses and copper hair. “Morgan? You with us?”
His thumb, dipped in something slippery and wet, makes a mark on my forehead. The mark burns, so hot I start screaming, then a hand covers my mouth and I see rather than hear Bunny say, “I’m sorry,” before the pain is too much and I pass out.
Chapter Twelve
Dylan
“Hurry,” Bunny says, kicking the door open. We’re at the entrance of my suite and the plan is to get Morgan in a contained space.
I turn and say to him and Sam, “I’ve got this.”
Sam frowns. Bunny looks outright distressed. He glances at Morgan, who is not exactly passed out. More like in a trance.
“Are you sure?” he asks, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I can wake her up.”
“I want to talk to her.”
Not Morgan. The Morrigan. We need to have some words.
“Put her in that chair,” he says. “Sam, find some ties. She’ll have to be restrained.”
I start to argue that, but Bunny cuts me a non-negotiable look. I sigh and say, “There’s rope in that top drawer.”
I place Morgan in the armchair as gently as possible. Sam disappears into the entry and I hear him opening and closing drawers, before slamming one and reappearing. I take the ties and nod to them both.
“I’m good. Thank you.”
“Are you sure?” Bunny asks again.
“Yes. I’ll call you if I need you.”
He slips me a small pot. Inside is the mixture he used to activate the trance and subdue her at the park. Morgan is ’wired’ with an intricate security system through the runes Bunny painted on her body. They’re meant to keep her and everyone else safe. “Use it if you need to. It won’t hurt her.”
I rest the container on the table. “I will.”
The Guardians leave and I hear the door latch behind them. I quickly bind her wrists to the chair, making an effort to keep them tight but not painful. I need the Morrigan to appear. I need to see her strength. I touch her chin and lift it upwards, placing a gentle kiss to her pink lips. Energy flows between us and I pull away quickly. It’s enough to wake her and she licks her lips, eyes fluttering. I wait to see who will appear. The wicked smile that greets me clues me in.
“Your Highness,” I say, bowing before her. The act makes me feel dirty.
“The Sentinel.” She looks me up and down. No, she’s not at full strength. If so, she would have ripped my throat out in greeting. “Where are the others.”
“I wanted some time with you alone.”
“Did you now?” She laughs. It’s Morgan’s face, her voice, but her eyes are cold and dark. She’s in there but somewhere deep beneath the surface. “Why? To kill me?”
“Why would I kill you?” I ask standing with my hands behind my back. “I’m your guard. As I have been for a millennium.”
“You’re a man.” She slinks back in her chair, crossing her legs. She makes no notice of the binds. “It’s in your nature to betray. You have an attention span of a gnat. Once something more interesting comes along, you’ll walk.”
“Just because one man betrayed you, Your Highness, does not mean we all have such nefarious desires.”
Her eyes narrow. She’s gorgeous, of course. And the look of evil doesn’t take away from her beauty. Her lips are pouty and red, her cheeks flushed with anger. The curve of her breasts is always alluring and I know if I took her right now I could banish the Morrigan back to her tiny corner of Morgan’s soul.
But my job isn’t to fuck the devil. It’s to protect the angel that houses her. We’ll consummate this relationship when she’s ready. Today is not that day.
“Why have you summoned me,” she finally states more than asks. The mark on her forehead shimmers.
“That little stunt you pulled today? That can’t happen again. Our job is not only to protect Morgan, it’s to protect this realm. You’re not going to start the apocalypse here—not again.”
“That wasn’t a stunt. I was simply showing the girl her home. Where she’s from.” She flexes her hands. “She has a right to know her history. Is that so wrong?”
Her eyes twinkle with amusement, as though I’m nothing but a speck. I keep my emotions close but make my intentions clear. “We’ll kill her before we allow your evil to spread. One victim is enough. It will stop at two.”
“Then why not just do it? Just take me out right now?” She looks me up and down. “You can’t, can you? Not before you’ve had your taste.” Now she laughs and a cold edge rolls down my back. “Men. So typical, always thinking with your cock. Why do you think it’s taking her so long to pick a mate? Why do you think she’s prolonging this entire affair?”
“She’s making a conscientious decision. It’s a mate. Forever.”
“She’s playing you for a fool.” She sighs. “You learn nothing. Nothing! But whatever, dear Guardian, let the girl have her fun while she pussy whips you all into submission. All the better for me.”
“Shut up.”
Her eyebrow arches and her she licks her lip. “Why do you think she’s holding out on you in particular, dear?”
“I’m not the only one.”
“You mean the cripple?” She snorts. “She’s only kind to him out of guilt. She doesn’t need his power—too weak. My minion took care of him years ago. You? She just likes toying with you. You’ll never truly get a taste of her. She knows what you are—what you’ve always been.”
A rush of anger boils over me and I reach for her throat. My hand clasps around the thin column of flesh and I say, “You won’t divide us. Together we are strong. We’re here to expel you and the mis
ery that you bring to this place.” Her eyes bulge and I detect a hint of fear. I reach for the blade strapped to my leg and hold it against her temple.
The door bursts open and both Sam and Bunny run down the hall. Each take a side but I step back and drop the blade. Bunny takes the pot from my pocket and rubs the mark, making it shine in a fresh coat of gold. Morgan blinks, recognition flaring for just a moment before she slips off to sleep again.
“Fucking bitch,” I grumble, kicking a chair and toppling it to the side.
“She’s evil, Dylan. It’s what she does. She plays mind games and tricks people. She gets in your head, causes doubt,” Sam says, picking up the chair.
I glance at Bunny and see the pain in his eyes. He heard her. He heard her and no matter how quickly he looks away, I know he believes what she said. I want to say something but no words come out. Storming out of the room, I can’t help but think that I may believe the Morrigan too.
Chapter Thirteen
Morgan
I wake, slumped in a chair with my hands bound to the arms with black leather ties. My neck aches from being at an awkward angle and I stretch, feeling the burn in my muscles.
“Feeling better?” Dylan asks. He’s sitting in a chair directly across from mine. His eyes are narrow and wary.
“I guess.” I jerk my wrists. “What’s this about?”
“She took over. Fully.”
“Who?” I ask, but I know the answer. I still feel the Morrigan lingering in my veins. I wrinkle my nose. “Was it bad?”
“You fought us at the park. It took three of us to bring you in and Bunny knocking you out with a spell.”
I search my memory. It’s hazy at best. I remember Sam and the park. Getting angry with him and then chasing after him. I remember the gate—it was there—it’s real, but beyond that I recall nothing but the sensation of cold air and the sound of the Morrigan in my head. I tell this to Dylan and the crease on his forehead only deepens.
“So I fought you?” Oh boy. One of them I could take. But three? That seems foolish even for the Morrigan. “How did I do?”
