I think back to all the conversations we had and how I acted like such a stupid teenager. And I can't help but feel like Raphael used me, and that bit of truth flares hot in my chest like a bad case of heartburn. I hadn't been sent to be a guardian, but a spy.
Brecken knew what I was all along. Maybe he hadn't clearly comprehended it—without his memories—but on some level he knew. It was me who hadn't realized I was a secret agent.
Knowing I'm not needed here anymore, I close my eyes, figuring the only place to go is back to Idir Shoal.
How depressing.
***
I sit on my bed in Idir Shaol thinking. How stupid is it to have a bed when I don't sleep? Everything that ever bothered me about this place rises to the forefront of my mind. I hate the fake sunshine, the constant cheerfulness of those who work here, and I really hate the pretend sky. Do they think we're idiots? We know it isn't real, and it certainly doesn't make me feel any better.
The other thing is that I haven't seen anyone I care about yet. I did learn it was Natty who found Raphael and told his army of angels to save Brecken and me.
Now I am right back where I started, only more bereft, more depressed, and lonelier than ever. I have nothing to look forward to. I lie back and stare at the annoying ceiling, the puffy clouds floating by in the shapes of bunnies, kittens, and baby chicks. I yearn to reach up and rip the heads off all of them.
I miss Brecken with an ache I can't describe. My heart feels hollow, and all I want to do is cry, but no matter how much I try, no matter how much I wish it, those cleansing tears never appear.
I face the wall, scrunching my eyes shut. I'll lie here until I am forced to leave. Maybe I'll leave if my old roommates show up, which makes me wonder where they are. Have they become guardians? Even Deedre? I'd like to see that on a movie screen.
“No,” I hear someone say beside me. “She chose to go to Soul Prison instead.”
I turn abruptly to find Raphael sitting on Shana's bed, facing me, looking like my old mentor and not the avenging angel he was only a short while ago. I view him with a whole new level of appreciation. His long, wavy hair falls over his shoulders, and his green eyes regard me with sadness.
“Really?”
He nods. “Some do.”
“What about Shana and Cinder? Are they guardians too?”
“Yes, they both are. And doing well.” He shifts, placing his right foot on his left knee and leans forward, his eyes intense and seeing right through me. “You did very well, Alisa.”
I snort and am tempted to turn back to face the wall. Instead, I bow my head, shame filling me. “You mean falling in love with your charge is condoned now? Good to know.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Always the joker.”
“No. A cynic. So now what?”
“Come. There's someone I want you to see.” He holds his hand out. That strong, fighting, powerful, yet gentle hand.
With resignation I say, “I don't know, Raphael. I don't really feel like seeing anyone right now.” My head hangs and my heart feels empty. I want to stay here and wallow... and eat Rocky Road ice cream.
“You'll want to see this person.”
It has to be Gram, come to say good-bye and send me off to Soul Prison in grand style. I should be grateful and relieved that she would come after the huge mess I made. But inside, I resist. I didn't want to see her pitying smile.
Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe I'll get a spot close to the light, on the edge of tar and mist, away from people like Mr. Roland. I should have forgiven him long ago, but I hadn't been ready. Funny how that works.
“Okay.”
Raphael drapes my arm through his and closes his eyes. One second later, we appear in his office, the fictitious light of the noonday sun shining brightly through the wide windows on the far wall.
“Wait for just a moment.” He folds his arms over his wide chest and a smile splits his face. He seems inordinately happy.
“What?” I ask with a bit of petulance.
There is a tap on the door and the handle turns. I watch in slow motion as a whoosh of air blows past me, a flash of white appears, then a bare foot steps in, followed by the rest of the man, or should I say, teenager.
“Brecken!” I exhale in breathless surprise. One emotion after another rolls through me. Surprise, happiness, worry, euphoria, apprehension, and then back to happiness and surprise. I want to run forward, to throw my arms around his neck, to kiss him soundly, but I seriously can't move.
“Well, I have some things to do.” Raphael winks in my direction, then the door clicks shut behind him and we are alone.
I don't know what to say as I look into Brecken's wonderfully familiar face, the way his eyes blink slowly, his crooked, innocent grin, how his fingers twitch against his thigh—playing a drum tap to some imagined song. He wears a long, white robe down to his ankles, and his feet are bare. He is all Brecken, whole and perfect, and I feel tortured along with my euphoria.
He steps forward, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Surprised?”
I know if he touches me right now he will feel real, not like I'm a ghost and he's a human. My feet know where I want to go and move toward him.
“I asked to see you one last time, before I have go back.”
I stop before him, our faces only inches apart. The lump in my throat dissolves. “Go back?”
He measures our proximity, his eyes questioning. “Yes. I wanted to see you.”
He is so close. I want to lean forward and kiss him. The thought sends a thrill through me and he smiles as if he has read my thoughts. His hand reaches out. His touch feels real—just like I knew it would—with heat, solid and wonderful. He pulls me closer and his eyes close.
Time slows, and in slow motion, I am surrounded by his arms. I feel the whole length of him—the muscles in his legs next to mine, the hard planes of his chest, the splay of his hands on my back. A beautiful tingle fills my hands as I slide them slowly up and down his neck. I smile in spite of myself. “I can't believe you're here,” I whisper into his ear.
“I can't stay long,” he murmurs against my neck. “I have to finish my tour of duty on Earth, but then we really can be together, just like we wanted. I don't have to forget any of this. I don't have to forget you. They're letting me keep these memories.”
“But why do you have to go back at all? Why can't you stay here?”
“It's my penance, Alisa. I have to complete it. I have to go back and live a normal life as a semi-normal human and try to make a difference.” He studies me, the love in his eyes, a gift. “You see, what Lamia said is true. I am a fallen angel. I rooted for the wrong team, and I have to pay for that mistake.” He smiles sadly, embarrassed, and I experience those aching feelings through my fingers.
“It was Raphael who saved me. He saw something inside worth saving. I was given a chance to start over.”
“Wow. That's... just so hard to even comprehend.” I look at Brecken, the same Brecken I've known all along, but now, his face glows, shines, and his smile radiates a happiness I've never seen before.
“You'll make it,” I said. “You belong in heaven.”
He glances at our joined hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of my fingers. The soft pressure creates a yearning inside me, and all I want to do is hold him. I can't bear the thought of releasing him and leaving. Does he know I'm being sent to Soul Prison? How can he think we'll ever be together? I can’t be the one to tell him, to disappoint him, so I say nothing.
“I need to go,” he whispers, “but I want you to know that every day, every moment, I'll be thinking of you. I'll check in with Raphael to see how you are, and know that... that... I love you.”
He's never said those words before, never even uttered them under his breath. Their power distills over me like a warm, humid mist, filling every crack and crevasse of my aching soul, healing my heart, converting my doubt to hope.
He loves me!
My whole life I've struggled t
o feel loveable—a symptom of my abuse—but Brecken's words, his unconditional love, erases those unwanted memories from my mind.
I throw my arms around his neck once more and pull him close, inhaling the wonderful scent of him. Woods and maleness. I soak him in, figuring it will be the last time. He pulls back to look deeply into my eyes, then leans forward and presses his lips against mine. His hands spread on my back and the pressure of his fingers grip my robe. I tighten my arms around his neck, my hands tangling in the hair at his neck. Never have I clung to anyone this way, with such fervor, such sadness, knowing the magic will soon end.
When he pulls away, the same dread I feel in my heart is on his face. “I have to go.”
“I know.” My lips graze the soft skin of his neck, the scars from his punctures wounds healed. “You'll wait for me? You won't go off and fall for some other guardian?”
“You need to ask?”
I brush my fingers over his lips, memorizing his face—the crinkles around his eyes, every freckle, every nuance in his expression. “I'll wait for you forever.”
We gaze into each other’s eyes, neither of us wanting to let go or look away—our clasped hands, our aching hearts refusing to say good-bye. I yearn to stay in this bittersweet moment, but a knock sounds on the door and Raphael peeks in.
“Time to go, Bretariel.”
“Okay.” Brecken's lips brush over mine one more time. “And don't forget what I said, and if you're ever in my neighborhood... ”
“I will.”
He steps back, his arms still reaching for me, this heartache ripping us in two. “I'm not going to say goodbye.” His face twists into a grimace as though leaving me is physically painful. How long before we are together again? Will he finish his penance before me? I'm not ready to say goodbye!
Raphael places his hand on Brecken's shoulder, and with a reluctant nod to me, they disappear in a shimmer of light.
And just like that, I am alone.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
~What Future Awaits~
Alisa
I stay in Raphael's office, knowing he'll be back. Now that Brecken is gone, I'm ready to go. There's nothing left for me in Idir Shaol. There's no one to say good-bye to—no one to miss.
When Raphael returns, he doesn't seem surprised to see me still waiting, but instead of ushering me out or ordering me down to Hell—which is what I suspect will happen, because I did disobey—he comes in and closes the door. Nervously, I await his decision—because I did go back to Brecken when I wasn't supposed to, and I did talk Natty into disobeying as well. The wrong choices I've made are the ones that stick to the forefront in my mind.
Raphael sits down on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. He seems much too calm for a moment like this. The moment of my sentencing.
“I am going to tell you something I haven't said to anyone in a very long time.”
I watch him, waiting, holding my breath... figuratively.
He takes my hand and stares into my eyes with an intensity that quickly begins to alarm me. This is going to be bad. Really bad. This is it, and my nonexistent heart pounds in my chest. I can already feel the hot, sticky tar of Soul Prison sucking me down.
“I'm giving you a choice,” he says, his stoic expression never changing.
Wait? What? “A choice?”
He turns slightly and exhales through his nose, staring out of the windows that cause the room to glow with glaring brightness.
My heart races faster. I place my hand on his arm, leaning forward. “A choice?” I repeat.
“I think you have earned it.”
I stare into his eyes, not daring to hope, and yet, that is all I can do. “You mean?”
“You have proven your worth,” he says.
A surge of love washes over me like an ocean wave, pounding into my quaking soul. All the fear and reluctance for my future washes away in those few words.
“You can choose to rest in Elysium with your grandmother and your friend, Natty... or, you can go back to Earth. To be a guardian again.”
I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. “Are you serious?” This is too good to be true, and just as I am about to throw my arms around his neck, he stops me.
“Not for Brecken, Alisa. For someone else. Someone just as deserving.”
I pull back just enough to study his face, and the significance of his words. How can I go back, and not be with Brecken? For a moment I sit there, immobile, my mind racing to solve this dilemma, and oh, the exquisite pain that pierces my heart, like a dull dagger, ripping and tearing instead of leaving a clean cut. “But why?”
Raphael cocks his head as though confused by my question. “Because he has certain requirements he must meet, Alisa. Without any interference.”
“What does he have to do that I can't be a part of?” I'm torn in half. I'm ready to fall down on my knees and start begging. They can't do this to us. There has to be a rule or something.
Just when I thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, he says, “Brecken is required to have a normal human life. To have a family... with a wife and children.”
I'm stricken. I can't talk or even think of a coherent thing to say. When I raise my eyes to meet his, I see he is sincere. This is no lie or prank. “You can't be serious,” I whisper, pleading. “Please tell me you're joking.”
The look on his face says it all. As far as we're all concerned, his verdict is carved in stone. How can I bear this? How could I be a guardian to someone else, all the while knowing Brecken is getting older, getting married, and having children? It's too cruel. To both of us.
“Does he know?” I ask, remembering Brecken's last words, that he'll wait for me—that we'll be together again.
“Not yet,” Raphael answers. “But he will. I'll tell him soon, after he's had... time.”
Gazing out the window, a million thoughts sift through my mind, ways to circumvent this. Could we run away? Escape? However, I know, deep down, that none of it is truly possible.
“Would you deny him this happiness?” Raphael asks quietly. “The gift of a family?”
I can't answer. I know what he wants me to say, but I cannot say it.
Instead, I do what I do best.
I run.
Acknowledgements
I want to give a huge thanks to my rockin’ awesome critique group. Without them, this book would be nothing like it is. I love you guys! Renae Mackley, Shannon & Brock Cheney, Richard Johnson and Angela Millsap.
Also, many thanks to the amazing women at Clean Teen Publishing, who took a chance on me. They made this book sparkle, and gave me new hope for a writing career. To Marya Heiman for being so easy to work with on the cover. I was picky, and she bent over backward to give me what I wanted. To Courtney Nuckels, Rebecca Gober, and Dyan Brown for their patient advice and hard work. I love this publishing company!
And last but not least, to my wonderful family, that put up with me patiently while I practiced my craft for the last five years. They’ve cooked, cleaned, run my errands, and picked up my slack. Bryan, Jacob, Seth, Heidi, Gabriel, and Wyatt. You guys are my life, wholly and completely.
About the Author
M.E. Cunningham (Also known as Melissa Cunningham) began writing five years ago when she decided, out of the blue, to enter a community writing contest and won first place. From that moment on she had a new love: Writing. Melissa is a member of the League of Utah Writers. Her past publication experience includes a recurring opinion column called Writing Reality, for her local newspaper: The Leader
Melissa’s first novel: Reluctant Guardian, was accepted for publication through Clean Teen Publishing in August 2013.
When Melissa is not writing you can find her spending time with her husband of eighteen years and her five children. Melissa studied music in college and loves to read all things fiction. Melissa lives in Northern Utah with her family, her horses, cats, dogs and chickens.
If you enjoyed Reluctant Guardian we recommend you c
heck out The Eye of Tanub by M.E. Cunningham. Read the first three chapters here!
It happened a year ago. It was real, and no one can tell me it wasn’t. Yeah, it sounds crazy, and if I hadn’t experienced it myself, I’d be the first in line to deliver me to the funny farm, which—funny you should ask—happened. But that’s a whole other story.
I’ve learned not to talk about it. Not with my parents, not with my friends, and especially not my therapist, who suggested I write it all down in a book, so that’s what I’m doing. Like a journal, but not. It’s a story. A true story.
The only person I can talk about it with is my younger brother, Zach, which is crazy, because if you’d known us before, you’d think we were mortal enemies. We couldn’t stand each other. Before.
We are only a year apart in age, so you’d think we’d be close. But no way. We are polar opposites, and still are, but we learned things in Terratir… things that changed us forever.
Zach. How do I describe him and not sound like a total snob? Okay. So maybe I am a snob. Was a snob. He thinks so, but… well… honestly… he was an idiot. A slob. A fat, insecure kid with a savior complex. He would come home from school on a daily basis with a black eye or a bruised-up body because he’d get into a fight that wasn’t his, and would duke it out with the school bully. A kid named Devon Taylor who just happened to worship me. But that’s a different story.
Zach couldn’t stand to watch little kids get caught in Devon’s sights. He’d step in, take their beating, and become the hero. I watched a few of those fights, but I never stopped them. I never stopped Devon. When I look back, I don’t know why.
At the time, I had other goals. I was going to be a model. I’d worked hard for it, counted every calorie, worked out every day. I had even put together a portfolio, which I’d been ready to submit, because I was almost sixteen, and we all know that’s the magic age for modeling.
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