by Lynn Vroman
The suit was still active with a slight hum emitting from the fabric every time he moved. He didn’t enjoy wearing it–chaffed his skin–but the suit saved his ass from animal attacks, sink holes, grabby vines…angry Protectors, just about anything a dimension could throw at him. “It’s for protection.” Like she didn’t already know.
“From what?” She smirked, shoving her hair out of her eyes. “Do you ever bother to crack open one of those books?”
Heat reached his cheeks, burning them with guilt. “I didn’t have time to research the place.”
“Hmm, and what about the last seventeen years? Almost eighteen? Didn’t have time then either?”
Ouch. “They’re her books.”
The breeze from Wilma’s arms flipped the ends of his hair as she waved the flabby limbs in the air. “All that work, all those notes. You could’ve figured out what happened, what she knew…why she was accused of siphoning good energy to Arcus.”
He looked at his half-eaten apple. “Those notes wouldn’t have told me where they sent her. Only you could have done that.”
“Hey, I did what I could to keep her safe. You’ve done nothing to help her. Nothing!”
Tarek threw his apple and confronted the squat woman, forcing his fists to stay at his sides. “I’ve been looking for her. And I could have helped her if I knew where she was.” He looked down at his suit and all the fight drained away. “I hate that she doesn’t even know who I am.”
She opened the door with a wave of her hand and tossed the apple into the patch of lilacs–ignoring his tantrum. “We’re doing this, but we’re doing it my way.” She went right to Lena’s desk and flipped through the Arcus text. “Right in front of your nose, this book lays, and you don’t think to take a look at it? Moron.”
As she shuffled through the open book, he watched her mess with things that hadn’t been touched since the night Lena left. It took everything he had not to yell. “I’ll do whatever you want as long as I get to be with her.” He cleared his throat, trying not to sound like a sniveling twit. “Cassondra is being Paired. We have a month.”
“Well, we need to get busy,” she said. She looked up after finding a folded bunch of papers in the middle of the book. Holding them up, she gave him a sneer. “Unbelievable. Took me two minutes to find this.” She unfolded the papers. “The names, Tarek! Look at all the suspects she had sitting here, waiting for you to find.”
If it were possible to feel any stupider…“They’re her–”
“Shut. Up. Don’t even say it again.” She pulled out the chair and shot him a dirty look. “Listen up. I’ll look through these to see if any names pop out. Maybe we can find the rogue. Maybe, we can find out how she got a Tainted in the first place. Once we do find the bastard, we’ll go to Cassondra with the evidence. We’ll tell her we won’t go above her head if she leaves Lena out of it. That’ll give her a chance to take care of Casimir without Synod interference.”
He cringed. No, he didn’t like that idea much. “And what if she doesn’t bite and still wants Lena gone?”
Wilma’s face hardened as her hand crinkled the thick fold of notes. “I’ll send you a message,” she pointed to his head to indicate how she’d send it, “and you can get Lena as far away as possible.” As hard as the woman was, she couldn’t hide the pain creeping its way into her voice. “I’ll stay away so they don’t follow me.”
Hiding his euphoria took a lot of willpower, especially when Wilma’s hurt was so evident. “So, you’re letting me stay with her?”
She swallowed a few times before directing her attention toward the desk. In a shaky voice, she said, “You don’t catch on quick, do you?”
He bowed his head. “Thank you.”
When she didn’t respond, he went to change. He knew how she felt. He’d been feeling it for seventeen years.
As soon as Wilma unleashed Tarek’s power, he opened the portal. He had no idea why she let him go, but he wasn’t about to argue. Wilma could have the notes as long as he had Lena.
Lena
The screeching alarm wasn’t necessary. My eyes stayed wide open the entire night.
A shoe took care of the nagging beep, but my butt stayed planted on the floor. Things went from confusing to terrifying, and on to plain nuts in a matter of days. That someone wanted me dead had me all conspiracy-theory crazy. Oh, and Him was real and had a name. Tarek.
My legs agreed the floor was the best place to hang out for about forever. My eyes drooped as the inner voice banging in my brain told me to get off the damn ground. Sleep. Escape. That was all I wanted…
“Lena, breakfast!” Mom’s voice broke through my self-pity. She sounded vibrant, happy.
Something wasn’t right.
I fumbled for the doorknob and pulled myself up. The walk down the short hallway felt like a march toward the gas chamber.
Last night should’ve been impossible to forget. Mom and Dad smiling while she scrambled eggs trumped all the crazy shit. I tried to swallow the anger, cover the shock, fake happiness. “What the hell’s going on?”
I’ve never been good at faking anything.
Both of them looked away from each other as though it were the most difficult thing to do and focused on me. “What do you mean, peanut?”
I ignored him, watching my mother for any sign of comprehension. Her face, blank and empty except for that hollow smile, showed nothing. “Mom?”
A glimmer of understanding cleared her eyes, but as soon as Dad stood to touch her shoulder, the vacant stare returned. “Everything’s fine, honey. Hungry?”
My dad’s hands no longer shook, and his eyes were clear and lucid. “Mom’s been touched by God, peanut. Isn’t it wonderful?”
∞ ∞ ∞
When the bus chugged to a stop, I stayed in the back of the line, waiting for the ten kids ahead to take their sweet-ass time climbing the steps. The thought of facing Zander made me glad I’d skipped food. I couldn’t deal with him, didn’t want to.
Nope, school was the last place I needed to go.
The last three people before me made their way on the bus, and I slid behind the collage of mailboxes. As soon as the thing huffed down the road, I jogged into the woods, not stopping until I reached the place near the stream where the potheads congregated for their nightly high.
For a bunch of jackasses, the area had a comfortable setup. A semi-circle of old lawn chairs surrounded a burn pit. They even cleared all the brush and rocks for bigger gatherings that happened during summer and school vacations. It was the spot kids went to escape, lose their virginity, or hide from drunken parents–a trailer park paradise.
I slumped in the middle chair, letting the tinkling stream help clear my mind. We had to get away, and if Mom didn’t snap out of it, our plans were as good as gone.
Not to mention everything else going wrong, stuff that was too crazy to be real. Dimensions? Wardens? Protectors? And I’m supposed to be some sort of energy Guide–or was in a past life? I still refused to discount the idea that I might be suffering from schizophrenia. All the symptoms were there.
And Tarek? His image popped in my head and warmth seeped through the morning chill, reaching my cheeks, my stomach. Him was real?
I scooped a handful of pebbles and flung them into the stream. Wilma had better come back soon. Crazy or not, I needed answers, and trying to come up with them on my own created more questions.
One last handful of pebbles, and I stood, stretching my muscles.
Shit. Just, shit.
Maybe I’d head to school, check the parking lot. If Jake wasn’t there waiting for another bag, I’d go to the theater until school ended. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Pathetic.
Branches snapping in the thick brush didn’t bother me while I followed the path to school. But when the sound became uniform as though someone marched across firecrackers, fear tugged my skin.
The fear pissed me off, seeing as what could happen if I let it take over. But there wasn’t anything com
ing out of the ground, trying to pull me through. No odd breeze or pulls interrupted the atmosphere. That assurance calmed my fear to tolerable levels. Maybe someone else decided to take the day off, too.
I picked up speed. The school–with people–would be the best place to go, just in case I was wrong. The faster I walked, the quicker the branch cracking grew behind me. I veered directions toward a clearer path and pulled off my backpack. The muscles in my legs twitched with anticipation.
“Don’t even try.” Hot breath tickled my ear, paralyzing my feet. “You could never outrun me.”
That rich voice, like velvet, pushed through the short hair around my ear. I’d heard it in dreams, but the reality of the sound reached deep parts of my brain, triggering ghosts of feelings so strong, they almost buckled my knees.
I turned, hoping he wasn’t a figment of my psychotic imagination. But there he was, all six and a half feet. His eyes shined as silver as the moon and the blond hair brushing his shoulders was as tangible as my own skin. “You’re real.”
His large palm cupped my cheek, and a smile curled the edges of his mouth. “Of course I am.”
My hand covered his, squeezing and kneading his warm fingers. We stood there, in the middle of the path, my hand on his, as the smell of apples and lilacs radiated off his body. The smell made me think home. “How?”
Tarek looked over my head then behind his shoulder. “Is there a place we can talk?”
Here would’ve been fine. In the middle of a desert with angry rattlesnakes serenading us would’ve been fine, too. With him, I felt alive, aware. So different from the dull, almost dissociative fugue my brain tended to have when I was around Zander.
I pulled his hand down, not letting go, and led him to the burn pit. When we sat, he slid his chair so close to mine the armrests overlapped. He kept his eyes on the stream and his hand on mine, massaging each finger.
“Tarek?” I said his name, testing it on my tongue. It came as natural as breathing.
His eyes closed. “I’ve waited years to hear you say my name again.”
Thinking I knew him and having him say it…the whole idea was beyond odd.
Terrifying.
Exhilarating.
I took back my hand. The weight of everything crashed on top of my head, bringing tears to my eyes and a moan from deep inside my throat. My hands covered my face when all the emotions collided to form one big sense of loss. Tarek sat right beside me, rubbing my back in gentle circles until the last ounce of water leaked from my face.
Sniffling, my body still wracked with involuntary sobs, I wiped my eyes and nose with the sleeves of my sweatshirt. “I’m sorry. It’s…I have no idea how to process this. One day I’m normal and the next I’m some sort of freak.” The laughing started. “Oh, yeah, and there’s different worlds with tree-climbing squid and Protectors and Guides. And let’s not forget the Energy Wardens.”
I rambled on for about twenty minutes, throwing my hands in the air. Crying, laughing…and crying again. I kicked at rocks surrounding the fire pit, threw chairs, stood up, and sat down, anything to release the panic squeezing my chest.
All the while, he sat in his chair, arms resting on leather-clad knees, saying nothing, just giving me his undivided attention. His strong face was so calm I had to wonder if he found my psychotic break a bit boring. When I quieted, he picked my chair up from where I’d thrown it and sat back down.
When I remained standing, he wrapped a gentle hand around my wrist, urging me to sit.
“What do you want to know?” The warm pressure of his fingers helped my frayed nerves.
Wasn’t that the million-dollar question?
“Everything.”
His smile created deep dimples on each cheek–like I knew it would. “That narrows things down.” He let go of my wrist to trace my jawline, that amazing smell of lilacs and apples lingering on his fingers. “Your color is fading.”
Oh, right. Jessica Rabbit…
I touched my lips “Good. Looking like a cartoon character drew a lot of attention.”
He reclaimed my hand, focusing on massaging my palm. “It’s a side effect of spending time in Arcus. Corporeal forms tend to…ah…catch the colors for a while.”
“You know this from personal experience?”
“Unfortunately.”
The stiff tone of his voice said not to push the subject, and so I let it drop. I needed to know things more important anyway. “Do you know who’s trying to kill me?”
The muscles in his jaw stayed tense. “It could be anyone. Maybe Casimir, Arcus’s Warden. But it’s not death, Lena. At least not the way you know it to be.”
“Is there any other kind?”
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, before pursing his lips. Silence wafted between us. Only the singing of the woods, the tinkling stream, squirrels scuttling along the branches, and the woodpeckers pounding away in search of food kept us company. The whole time, his fingers refused to free my hand.
After a while, his deep voice interrupted nature’s free concert. “Energy, what drives us, what…is us, never dies. Our forms die, but our energy…it goes on. Just like the trees, the animals, it’s all energy and it gets recycled.”
“Wilma said something like that.”
“Did she tell you there are levels of energy, different kinds?” He kept his voice neutral.
“She said I was some sort of…energy Guide?”
“Right, but there is energy that is human, energy that is animal, plant…” He shrugged his shoulders. “You understand, right?”
Sure, why not, it was so easy.
“I…I think so.” I shifted so his concentration had to switch from my hand to my face. “What’s so important about mine?”
“Your energy, my energy, is strong, powerful in its raw form.”
“So, why does he want me? There has to be millions of people like me for him to terrorize.”
His jaw clenched and his lips pursed again, but his hand continued to massage mine. “Our kind isn’t easy to find. Guides are shielded by their Protector,” he pointed to himself, “ah…like me, when active. And if we chose to end our service on Exemplar,” he paused, “or are forced to end our services, wherever our energy chooses or is forced to go, the abilities are not gone, just completely forgotten. But if someone found you and told him…Well, you’re an easy target now.”
“So even though I can’t remember how the whole Guide thing works, this Casimir guy might want me?”
He sighed. “The energy, the power, it’s still there, Lena.”
“So how’d he find me?”
The forest hunkered down, the inhabitants shutting their doors and locking their windows, when anger steamed off his body. “I don’t know, but we’re not going to stop until we’ve figured it out.”
“What happens now?” I stood, a new resolve giving me back some strength.
“I make sure you’re safe until Wilma finds some answers.” A secret smile skittered across his face.
“Okay, spill it. Why the smile?”
He shook his head. “She’s looking through your notes, all your research, trying to figure this mess out.”
“Ah, my what?”
“In your next cycle, I hope to show you.”
“Why not show me now. Protectors can cross dimensions, right?”
A frown shadowed his face, covering his smile for a second. “You’ll have to wait…until this cycle is over.”
“My cycle? What about you? You immortal or something?”
His eyes hardened, the smile turning a little dangerous. “No, I’m just really good at staying alive.”
“So what are we talking, hundreds of years?”
With a slight nod, he inspected his palms. “The life cycles of Guides and Protectors last longer than most, except Wardens. We reach maturity faster, too, if we choose to come back and serve. Exemplians have, ah, mastered science, I guess. We’ve found all kinds of ways to keep the body going.” He shrug
ged. “That’s why many of our kind choose retirement after two or three cycles, they last so long.”
“But not me? I never chose to retire?”
He shrugged before pushing up from his chair and walked a few feet to a cluster of pines. “Nor had I. As long as I knew you were waiting.”
Shyness washed over me. I stumbled over the rocks to the edge of the stream, hoping the breeze would cool my cheeks before facing him again. “So, what about my name? It seems I managed to get the same one in this cycle.”
“I hadn’t even thought about it. Lena’s always been your name.”
I told him the story about my birth, which made his dimples pop out again. “Sounds like Wilma had a hand in it.”
“Oh, right.” I kicked the rocks. “Tarek?”
“Yeah?”
“What if he pulls me in again?”
He came up behind me, and I had to fight the urge to lean against his chest. “He won’t get another chance.”
Lena
“So, I was a bitch. Is that what you’re trying not to say?” I threw a few twigs his way.
Laughing, he swatted at them with an exaggerated dodge.
We sat in the lawn chairs, around a fire Tarek built with sticks–yes, sticks. He even managed to make a snare, catch a rabbit, and fashion a spit over the coals. Christ, the guy was a regular Davey Crocket–a pretty hot, leather-wearing Davey Crocket.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. You were, ah, assertive,” he said.
“Assertive? Ha! Nice one.” I poked a stick in the fire, my stomach begging for the rabbit.
I had no idea how long we sat there talking. He talked about his dimension, the need to stay out of the natural cycle of my life, the fact that Casimir might already have a Protector’s energy. I told him about my parents, the chance for a scholarship, never mentioning Zander…
After I told him about this morning and Dad’s obsessive need to get the house in order, Tarek stayed silent. Contemplation lightened his eyes while he kept his face composed.
I jumped, dropping my stick, when he decided to give his insight. “Your energy needs to be weakened for anything besides an active Protector to pull you into another dimension. The energy Casimir has seems pretty weak, considering the way you punched through the lines, and if your home is as tumultuous as you say…”
