by Montana Ash
As for the others, some of them had begun making an attempt to be polite, if not friendly. His first few days had been filled with hard, distrusting looks and the sharpening of scythes in his presence. Ryker – the Order’s Captain – had been the worst, and still was. On top of the murderous looks, he also seemed to make a point of delivering a scathing comment whenever they crossed paths. At first, Max had come to his defence but now she merely rolled her eyes as if he was a mischievous puppy. But Dex wasn’t fooled. That man was nobody’s puppy – unless you were Max it seemed. That had been another revelation; Max and Ryker were also obviously involved. And unlike Darius and Diana, they weren’t shy about it. The chemistry between the two was red-hot and the Captain seemed to take great pleasure in throwing him a triumphant look of ‘fuck you, loser’ every time Max touched him. Apparently Ryker knew about all those ‘kisses’ and he wasn’t impressed.
As for the others – Beyden, Axel and Lark – the wary looks of distrust and even disgust had drizzled into stoic looks of soldiers and now even into smiles of greeting. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit how nice it was to receive a friendly look. The Mother knew his brother sure wasn’t giving him any. He had been praying night and day that Darius would come and talk to him but thus far his prayers had been in vain. Darius had been on watch duty the same as the others but where they had all shown those looks of suspicion and even curiosity, Darius had been very careful to never actually look him full in the face, let alone the eyes. It was the one blight on his happy new miracle life and it was damn sure breaking his heart.
The only other hiccup he could think of was a tall, slender, hot-as-fuck blonde. Cali; the water paladin and the woman of his dreams. For a guy who hadn’t been able to get a hard-on in forty years, he sure was making up for it. He only had to think of the woman’s name and he popped wood. It was damn frustrating considering he couldn’t do anything about it. Not only was he being watched twenty-four-seven, but she acted as if she hadn’t clamped those sexy legs of hers around his waist and almost snapped him in half. She was exceedingly polite to him, looking him in the eye when she spoke or delivered his meals. But her clear blue eyes were completely devoid of any emotion or recognition. It was pissing him off. All he wanted to do was throw her against another wall and remind her of the intense orgasms they had shared. It was all he could think about. She was all he could think about and it was beginning to get to him.
He’d had plenty of flings before with plenty of beautiful women. So why couldn’t he get this one out of his head? He wanted to think it was simple chemistry and proximity but he knew that wasn’t the full story. The more he saw of her and the more he heard from her, the more intrigued he became. She was funny, bold and articulate, caring and affectionate to her friends, and a damn good soldier from what he had seen from her sparring. When you added on that stellar body and those piercing ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ blue eyes … it was a lethal combination – to him at least. The other males in the household seemed oblivious to the queen that was right under their noses. There was absolutely no sexual tension between any of them – a fact he was extremely grateful for. Not that any of that mattered anyway, he sternly reminded himself. It’s not like he had even half a chance with the lovely water paladin. He would be lucky if he had half a chance at a life, let alone a love life. And he sure wasn’t interested in dragging anyone else into his chaotic nightmare.
No. He needed to stop dreaming about brothers and blondes and Orders. Brotherhood, partnership and families were a dream long lost to him. But it was darn hard to do when he was sitting on this perfect beach here with the wind caressing his skin and the sound of waves creating a rhythmic melody in the background.
“Hey man.”
He literally jumped, disrupting the sand and sending it flying in all directions before he peered up in shock at the youngest member of the house. He had been happy getting friendly looks but had never imagined he would receive a friendly greeting any time soon. His shock must have shown on his face, for the young paladin smiled – a common expression for him, Dex knew.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. Do you mind if I join you?” Lark asked.
Still too shocked to do much more than nod, Dex scooted upright, brushing sand off himself. He wasn’t sure what was going on here but he felt vulnerable lying down as he was. Lark smiled again and sat far enough away that he wasn’t invading Dex’s personal space but close enough that Dex could reach out and touch him if he chose. None of them, save Max, had ever ventured this close to him and Dex held his breath – he had breath! – waiting to see if the unnatural hunger kicked in. But it didn’t. Not even the slightest twinge.
“Thanks. You looked so peaceful, I was sorry to disturb you. I did bring you a beer as an apology though.” He said, even as he held out a bottle of Pure Blonde.
Dex stared at it like it was a deadly brown snake. Was this some kind of a test? Or maybe the beer was poisoned. Unable to vocalise his thoughts, he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.
Lark rolled his eyes and pushed the bottle into the sand at Dex’s feet. He then picked up a second beer Dex hadn’t noticed, uncapping it with the twist of a wrist before taking a long swallow. Dex was impressed – it wasn’t a screw top cap. But then, although Lark was the smallest in both height and stature of the male knights here, he was definitely not weak. In fact, Dex thought their frames were probably about the same size now. Although Dex was taller by a good four inches, his muscles had been regenerating with every hit of energy from Max, so that he now no longer appeared thin but had some decent definition going on. Lark’s lean frame was much the same by way of his swimmer’s build; although shorter in height, his limbs still appeared long with defined muscles that bunched and flexed when he moved and he definitely had lines of rigid definition from chest to abdomen. He was also really flexible. Dex had seen him doing yoga of all things – probably explained those long-looking limbs.
“Dude, I didn’t poison your beer. That would be blasphemy. I wanted to talk to you and figured it had been a while since you had one. Again – blasphemy.”
Well, he was right about that, Dex thought. He couldn’t even remember what beer tasted like. The knight seemed sincere and friendly enough but Dex was still cautious as he picked up the ice-cold bottle. But he was also curious. Why exactly would the earth paladin want to speak to him?
EIGHTEEN
“I know you haven’t met me or even heard of me before like some of the others.” Lark began, “I’m only thirty-one years old. You’d already gone off the reservation before I was even born.”
Dex winced; he hated that phrase. But it had always been a favourite with all paladins. And he had no idea that Lark was that young. It was practically just out of the teen years in warden and paladin terms given their longevity. Obviously sensing his surprise, Lark laughed;
“Young right? Technically, I shouldn’t even be out of basic training let alone bound in an Order but like everyone else here, my history is a little different. Max does love her strays.” He smiled, his affection for his liege clear, before continuing, “I may be young but I assure you, I’ve heard things, seen things and lived through things that …”
Even as he trailed off, Dex doubted the young man had seen or heard much of anything. Although there had been a few human wars since the Great Massacre of their society, Dex knew that even those few wardens like himself who used to fight in human wars, had since ceased at the decree of the IDC.
“Don’t believe me, huh?” Lark chuckled. “Well, you may not have heard of me before but I’m positive you would have heard of my father – Isaac, potentate for Terran the Earth Warden.”
Dex felt his mouth fall open in shock. This happy, easy going young man was the son of the most vicious paladin in their history? Terran was of the same generation as Dex himself and the warden of the earth had also fought in many a human battle. Unlike Dex however, who had done it for altruistic reasons, Terran had enjoyed the bloodshed just a
little too much. And the Mother knew, the middle ages were known for their bloodbaths. Terran’s right-hand man, Captain and potentate had always been Isaac, a very tall, very physically strong earth paladin. Isaac was formidable in battle, known for showing no mercy to friend or foe alike. He was also one of the biggest arseholes off the battlefield, known for being a bully and a brawler. After fighting alongside them in Wallace’s peasant army in the late 1200s and early 1300s at the Battle of Falkirk, he had become convinced that the two were sadists. They never killed cleanly, seemed to enjoy torturing their enemies, and Dex had seen them taking women against their will. Terran’s Order was a disgrace. Dex, along with many others, had reported their dishonourable actions and although they had been reprimanded and punished publicly numerous times over the years, they had never been imprisoned like they would have been in the human justice system.
In all the years he had known Isaac, he had never managed to throw any offspring – a fact Dex had been very grateful for. One sadistic, aggressive bastard who lived forever was enough. The world sure didn’t need any more of them, for he had been positive Isaac would raise his child to be just like him. No child would have stood a chance. So it was nearly impossible for him to believe this auburn-haired knight with the beer sitting casual and bare-footed on the sand was any relation to the Captain.
“Surprised?” Lark asked. “Yeah, I don’t look anything like him, nor have I followed in his footsteps – much to his eternal disappointment.”
Dex bet it was. Isaac was over a thousand years old and had never fathered any other children. He was very old-school and Dex imagined he would have valued a son only and also a son who was created in his image.
“So, I may not have fought in any of your great battles Dex, but I assure you, I’ve seen my fair share of violence … among other things.”
Dex bet he had – poor kid.
“I haven’t seen anything like you though.” Lark told him and even if he’d been able to vocalise, he wouldn’t have responded to that statement. After all, what was there to say? Dex had never seen anything quite like himself either.
“I also haven’t seen anything like Max before and I’d wager that you haven’t either, despite your many years and many travels.”
That was the truth. Since his time here, he had seen Max communicate with nearly every domain – an impossibility. And then there was the puzzle of her Heraldry. He had been correct in his earlier assumption that the massive sleeve of ink was indeed the Order’s coat of arms. But he was still ridiculously intrigued by it given its size – it was huge, denoting great power – and also by the fact that the freaking black and grey lines appeared to move. At first, he figured it was a trick of the light but now he wasn’t so sure and he found himself eyeing Lark’s brand in the darkness. Apparently seeing where Dex’s attention was focused, Lark ran his hand over the series of intricate patterns … leaving a writhing mass of lines in his wake. Yep, this is the rabbit hole for sure.
“Do you want to know why this brand pulses with power? Why you’ve never seen anything like Max before?” The younger man asked.
Duh! Of course he wanted to know! He was freaking dying of curiosity. But he was also highly suspicious of Lark’s motivation so he made sure to remain perfectly still with a perfectly blank face. It was his token expression now anyway.
Lark sighed as if exasperated with his reticence but spoke again nonetheless, “She’s a Custodian.”
“Wha …” Dex’s shock was so great that he almost uttered his first word in nearly four decades. A Custodian? Impossible.
“Right?” Lark barked out a self-depreciating laugh, “I know it sounds crazy but it’s true. We don’t know how or why but the truth is undeniable; she’s a Custodian, a daughter of Mother Nature herself.” Lark informed him. “Darius has been trying to figure out how she’s in human form. He’s not having any luck and it’s driving him insane.”
Dex could well imagine that last part was true in the very least. Darius was a very straight arrow who liked to put things in neat little boxes. Having a puzzle like this would be chapping his arse.
“It’s not all on Darius of course. We’ve all been investigating but answers are few and far between. It’s hard when practically all our records have been destroyed. We managed to get our hands on some remnants of the Warden Chronicles but so much was missing.” Lark continued.
This whole conversation was incredibly trippy. He was glad of the conversation and the company if he were being honest. He was also pleased with the level of trust Lark was showing him by revealing such a monumental secret. But why was he telling him all this? Unless the soldier was planning on killing him afterwards – which seemed fairly unlikely given his progress over the past week.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all this …” Lark said. “I have some questions for you but I wanted you to understand who and what Max is. And what she is capable of.”
With that, Lark took a long pull of his beer and Dex realised he had yet to open his own bottle, which was now bordering on warm thanks to his fierce grip on the glass. Figuring a little brew wouldn’t go astray right now, he twisted the top and chugged half the bottle in one go. Even slightly warm it was the best damn beer he could remember tasting. He was sorry it was already half gone. Lark smiled at his antics even as he spoke again;
“When we first realised what she was there were whispers of fate and revolutions – a higher purpose if you will. Now I gotta tell you, nobody here is fanciful but we’re all pretty much on the same page there. But the question I find myself asking is; whose revolution?”
A beat of silence followed where Dex became the scrutiny of intense green eyes. “Whose revolution, Dex?”
Oh, Dex thought, that wasn’t a rhetorical question. But why would Lark expect him to know? He was an abomination, a cursed creature, a – holy shit! Him – or his kind anyway. He wasn’t so narcissistic to believe Lark was referring directly to him. But he was clearly referring to his cursed brethren.
“I see the flicker of knowledge in your eyes. I don’t think she’s here to clean up the seas or grow some new flowers – although I’ve no doubt she can and will. I think her purpose is more specific to the chades.”
Dex didn’t understand how or why Lark would come to that conclusion but he was definitely intrigued. Although he had almost spoken one word in surprise before, he couldn’t find it within himself to talk again. The concept of speech was just still too foreign. So he turned questioning eyes towards his companion, hoping he got the drift.
“Why?” The astute paladin asked and Dex nodded. “Well, for starters, you’ve had a taste of her potential. She’s healing you – a chade. It’s a feat never attempted let alone achieved before. And also …”
Dex watched him pause, blow out a breath and dig his heels further into the sand. He gave his toes a wriggle, obviously content to have contact with his element. “Can I ask you a question of a personal nature?” He queried.
Dex was surprised all over again. He wouldn’t have thought anyone had any regard as to what he would consider private or personal. Hell, they had him followed day in and day out. They practically watched him take a piss. But it would seem there was personal and there was personal if the serious look on Lark’s face was anything to go by. Well, if this paladin could be polite enough to ask, then Dex could be polite enough to answer; he nodded in affirmation.
“What you feel, when you’re a chade … is the cold so frigid it feels like it has teeth? The hunger so deep, you know nothing can assuage it? You’re completely powerless to control anything – like you’re falling into a black pit and the plunge is an endless, silent scream into a bottomless abyss.”
Dex was shocked to hear the young, vibrant knight describe the horror and the terror so perfectly. What could he possibly know of it? He was a paladin and his affinity was to the earth. Even if he had been a life paladin, the extent of his empathy shouldn’t have been that deep nor that strong. So shocked w
as he, that he leant forward and nodded his head vigorously.
Lark nodded somewhat sadly and sighed, “I was afraid of that. It’s what Max dreams of, you see. Almost every night. And … it’s what I dream of – almost every night. Ever since we bonded her dreams have somehow been leaking onto me. I don’t know why, given I’m no empath like Ryker. I know they trickle through to Ry every now and then too but Max makes a concerted effort to block things like this from the Order. Why these dreams are not being blocked from me I have no idea. I don’t think she knows the bond is so open between us at night. She’s never said anything.”
Now that was very interesting. Links within Orders could be opened and closed at will by their wardens, it was true, but most left them very open at nearly all times so their Orders were always ready to serve as needed. He had been more than happy to allow his paladins their privacy for he valued his own. So he would often dim down the bond but closing it off entirely was a different matter. Not only was it extremely hard to do – it was rumoured that only the oldest and strongest could do it – but it was also relatively unheard of. The relationship between a paladin and a warden was symbiotic; paladins produced vitality that they couldn’t use and wardens used vitality to serve nature but couldn’t produce it. Therefore, not allowing an Order link to remain open was pretty counterproductive. On top of that, how was her Order supposed to be able to help her with these nightmares if they weren’t aware of them? He frowned in Lark’s direction, hoping to convey his confusion and unease.
