Guardian

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Guardian Page 19

by Knight, Angela


  “Seemed pretty damned real to me,” Nick said. “And I had the wounds to prove it. At least until they healed.”

  Charlotte tilted her head thoughtfully. “In that case, you must have encountered the Guardian within the T’Lir itself, because the spirit has no physical being.”

  He snorted. “I repeat—seemed pretty damned real to me.”

  “Well, it would. Otherwise the test would not have worked.”

  Riane raked her fingers through her hair absently, eyeing Charlotte and her furry friends. They stared back at her with annoying placidity. “What’s this obsession you people have with tests?”

  “How else would we teach you anything?” The Sela gave her an expression that looked astonishingly like a grin.

  Riane glowered at her. And it was definitely a “her,” because in comparison to her fellow Sela, she was either very fat or very pregnant. “Are you with child?”

  “Oh, yes. And we’ve met, by the way. I am Vanja, and my baby is the heir of Ethini’s spirit.”

  No wonder Riane didn’t recognize her. The last time she’d seen her, she’d looked like a matronly fifty-year-old.

  “Who’s Ethini?” Nick asked.

  “My dearest friend. One of the Xerans killed her two weeks ago.” Vanja sighed, then turned to Charlotte. “Speaking of the Xerans—”

  “I will attend to it.” She turned away, gesturing at Riane and Nick to follow. “Come on, you two.”

  “What?” Nick demanded, striding after her. He didn’t like the resignation in her tone one bit.

  “A Xeran strike force is on the way here to steal our T’Lir and wipe us all out.”

  Nick and Riane stopped in their tracks and stared at her back. She calmly kept walking.

  “Then why in the hell,” he exploded when the shock faded, “are we sitting here waiting for them? Let’s get out of here!”

  His mother shrugged. “What happens, happens. Your friend could tell you that.”

  “She’s right,” Riane told him with a resigned shake of her head. “They probably couldn’t avoid it now if they tried.”

  Nick would never understand these people in a hundred years. He hurried after Charlotte, who turned to wait for them in the shade of a camper trailer’s overhang. “Yeah, well, obviously you’re going to survive,” he told Charlotte, “but what about the Sela?”

  Charlotte—the entirely too young Charlotte—searched his face. “How do you know I’m going to survive? Vanja said she had a vision, but she refused to tell me the details.”

  Nick opened his mouth—because I’m here—and then carefully shut it again. Should he tell her?

  “Because he’s here,” Riane said calmly, crossing her arms and watching the other woman closely. “And he wouldn’t be if you died.”

  He stared. “Were we supposed to tell her that?”

  “Obviously, since I just did.”

  “I thought you were the one who was so paranoid about affecting the time stream.”

  “No, I’m paranoid about leaving twenty-third-century tech lying around in the past because it’s fucking illegal.”

  Charlotte was staring at him. She’d just gone pale as milk. “You . . . You’re my son? They didn’t tell me—” She broke off, grimacing. “But of course, they wouldn’t.”

  Nick sighed. He might as well spill the whole thing. “I was born in 1979. You raised me alone. I didn’t even know about the Sela until the last couple of days. Hell, I didn’t even know I was half-Xeran. Why didn’t you tell me, dammit?”

  “That would be why,” Riane said drily. “You just told her she didn’t tell you.”

  Oh. He rubbed his forehead, suspecting a headache was on the way. “But what if I hadn’t told her?”

  “But you did.”

  “But . . . Hell. Never mind. The important thing is, what are we supposed to do about the freaking Xerans?”

  “Ulir has bought us some time,” Charlotte told him absently, her expression abstracted. She was obviously struggling with her own set of realizations. “The strike team would have already arrived, except he managed to bend their warp field so it will deposit them five hours from now.”

  Which would give the Sela plenty of time to leave, if they weren’t so damned stubborn. Or fatalistic. Or whatever the hell they were. “So what are we supposed to do with those five hours? Since we’re not going to do the intelligent thing and run like hell?”

  Charlotte didn’t answer. Instead, she stared into his face, obviously fascinated, examining him as if looking for traces she recognized.

  “Charlotte?” Riane prompted gently.

  “Oh.” The woman started, then cleared her throat and turned to Riane. “As I said, Vanja had a vision about this. She said you’re going to need the ability to use the T’Lir.”

  “Me?” Riane stared at her.

  “You.”

  “And you’re going to teach me that nifty little trick in the next five hours?”

  “Not . . . exactly. Simply attempting to teach you those techniques wouldn’t work. You’d need the cerebral structures to wield that kind of power. That’s why I had to give Jessica some of my blood. The blood altered her genetic code and grew new connections within her brain.”

  “Blood doesn’t do that,” Nick objected, rubbing at the knot of tension growing between his brows. His headache was definitely getting worse. “In fact, if you get the wrong type of blood, it can kill you.”

  “It wasn’t that much blood. And at any rate, the blood was simply a matrix to transfer the DNA changes.”

  “But it took days for Jessica’s brain to make those alterations,” Riane pointed out. “We’ve only got a few hours.”

  “The T’Lir can accelerate the process.” Concern lit her eyes. “Though I’ve got to warn you, it won’t be much fun for you.”

  “Neither is getting my ass kicked by Xeran fanatics. Speaking of whom, how many Xerans are we talking about anyway?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Nick growled. “Considering that only the three of us can fight, we’re going to be seriously outnumbered anyway.”

  Riane sighed. “Which means I’ve definitely got to have any powers I can get. Okay, let’s do it, Charlotte.”

  “Me?” She held up both hands as if to ward the other woman off. “Sorry, you’re beyond my pay grade at the moment.”

  “And Jess wasn’t?”

  “The Sela gave me the ability to change Jess.” Charlotte jerked a thumb at Nick. “He’s the one who has to change you.”

  • 28 •

  “Wait a minute.” Nick crossed his arms and glowered at Charlotte, utterly confused. “You’re saying I’ve got to give Riane some kind of blood transfusion?”

  His mother shook her head. “No blood exchange is necessary. You’re the Guardian. You can simply create whatever cell structures she needs.”

  He dropped his arms and recoiled. “I don’t think so. I have no idea how to do that. I know nothing about the human brain, much less whatever the hell hers is, with all that genetic engineering and computer stuff.”

  Riane grinned at him. “Computer stuff?”

  “Oh, shut up,” he snapped, thoroughly annoyed. “You’re not seriously contemplating this, are you?”

  Riane hesitated, considering the question, then shook her head. “Am I happy about it? Hell, no. But I’ve seen enough of these guys to know if they say to do something, you need to do it.”

  Nick rubbed his knuckles along his jaw, eyeing her. “Aren’t you the one who went batshit when I suggested a simple mind link? Now they want me to do things to your brain, and you’re okay with that?”

  “Yeah, I know.” She stepped over to him and rested her hands on his chest as she looked up into his eyes. “Look, I’ve been watching you deal with some weird shit in the last couple of days. And if it’s weird by my standards, it should thoroughly freak out a man from the twenty-first century. But somehow, you’ve handled it all.”

  “Haven’t you noticed? I am freaked.”

/>   “Well, yeah.” She smiled. “But you also manage to do whatever you need to do. Fight Her-Gla mercenaries, pass bloody tests conducted by nightmare Sela primitives, stick a knife through a Tevan’s combat armor. Whatever it is, you pull it off, every single time.”

  “Yeah, but we’re talking about your brain.”

  “Nick, I trust you. Guardian, half-breed Xeran, twenty-first-century human. Whatever you are, whatever you have to do, you always deliver.”

  “You’re in love with him.” Charlotte flushed as they turned to blink at her in surprise. She lifted her chin, almost defiantly. “That’s a good thing for a woman to know about her future son. That somebody will love him.”

  “I’m not . . .” Riane began, only to stop, a stunned look on her face. She pivoted to stare at Nick.

  He stared back, feeling his jaw drop. He swallowed. “I . . . still don’t know what I’m supposed to do. About the brain thing, I mean.” Lame, Nick. Really lame.

  But what the hell was he supposed to say? I love you, too? Because he did. Maybe he’d loved her since he was fourteen years old. The idea of her, if nothing else.

  And now that he really knew her, had fought beside her, made love to her . . .

  Oh, yeah. He was so gone.

  Too bad she wouldn’t stay. And with him being this “Guardian” of the Sela—who, God knew, needed a Guardian, especially with the Xerans dedicating themselves to wiping them out—well, he couldn’t exactly go haring off to the future after her.

  Which made him basically fucked.

  “I can show you what to do.” Charlotte paused, her lips twitching in amusement. “I mean, about the brain thing.”

  Implication being that the issue of his love life was, all too obviously, as beyond her as it was him. Thanks, Ma.

  “Great,” he said with a sigh. “Show me what to do.”

  “I . . . think this is the kind of thing that needs a little more privacy. In here, you two.” She climbed the steps to the camper trailer. The flimsy metal stairs creaked underfoot as she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  Nick followed, thinking it was going to be cramped with the three of them in that one half-rusted little camper . . .

  But the minute he stepped through the doorway, he realized it could hold not only all three of them, but the entire lineup of the Carolina Panthers. The interior was huge, an airy, echoing space, all white curving walls that looked almost organic.

  At one end lay a sprawling bed covered in a bright red spread and a tumble of sunny yellow pillows. A table stood beside an immense window that took up most of one wall, showing a view of the green spring woods beyond.

  There wasn’t a straight line to be seen. Everything seemed to grow organically out of the floor—tables, chairs, even the sprawling, overstuffed cream couch.

  “Is this some kind of illusion?” Riane demanded. Glancing over, Nick saw she looked as bewildered as he felt. “Or was the exterior the illusion?”

  “Oh, no,” Charlotte told them. “This is my part of the ship.”

  Nick stared at her. “What ship?”

  “The spaceship the Sela arrived in.”

  “All those boxy vehicles are part of your ship?” Riane began to circle the enormous room, running her fingertips along the table and the backs of chairs.

  “Basically.” Charlotte nodded, though she was gazing at Nick again.

  Riane turned to her. “So the RVs are not really separate? They just look like it?”

  “Oh, they’re separate. They all contain parts of the ship.”

  “I’ve seen mathematical theories that it’s possible to create folded spaces like this, but nobody’s actually figured out how to do it.” Riane sat down on the couch and stretched her long legs out in front of her. “This is amazing.”

  “And the Victor would kill for the knowledge of how to do it, too. If He obtains it, or the other knowledge of the Sela . . . the Galactic Union will fall.” Charlotte tucked her hands into the back pockets of her pants, her expression brooding. “You have no idea what life would be like under a Xeran theocracy. I do. I grew up on that planet. My father taught me the Victor was God—mostly by beating belief into me. It was . . . hell.”

  “My grandfather abused you?” Torn between horror at the idea and fascination at learning more about his mysterious mother, Nick moved closer.

  “Oh, yes. It was his duty, you see. Women are weak. Unworthy.” Her smile was bitter.

  Riane snorted and laced her fingers behind her head. “Any culture which throws away half its intelligence pool deserves exactly what it gets. No wonder Vardon kicked their asses.”

  “Don’t underestimate the Victor, Riane. He is powerful, and He holds a grudge. If He gets his hands on the T’Lir . . .” She spread her hands. “Vardon will be His first target. You may count on it.”

  “Yeah, I figured.” Riane’s expression turned brooding. “That’s one reason I’m willing to do this.”

  “And since there is not much time, I should let you get to it.” Charlotte crossed to Nick and took his face between her hands. Mystified, he allowed her to pull his head down. Her mouth touched his forehead for a soft, maternal kiss.

  He sucked in a breath as complex and alien knowledge swirled into his mind. Suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to know to make the changes he had to make. He could see the brain structure in his mind, vivid as a memory. It was so clear, so obvious.

  But just as powerful as that knowledge was the realization that his mother was touching him for the first time since he was fourteen.

  Abruptly this surreal experience became painfully real, and Nick caught her shoulders, instinctively trying to prolong the contact.

  Charlotte looked up at him, surprised. He felt his eyes sting.

  Green eyes, so similar to his own, widened. “I’m dead in your time, aren’t I?”

  He winced. “Mom . . . Charlotte . . .”

  She closed her eyes, her face going still and grim. “I suspected as much. The expression on your face when you saw me the first time . . . You looked like you were seeing a ghost.”

  “I love you.” There was so much he’d wanted to say to her. All those words seemed to pile up on his tongue now, choking him. He forced them out anyway. “You were . . . You will be an amazing mother. You taught me everything I needed to know about courage, about love. About protecting the helpless. The man I am I became because of you.” Running down, he added lamely, “I just wanted to tell you that.”

  Charlotte rested her forehead against his. “Thank you. I am honored.”

  Before he could say anything more, she broke away from him and hurried to the door. He opened his mouth to call her back, but she had already slipped out and closed the door behind her.

  “Fuck,” Nick muttered, suddenly furious with himself. “I shouldn’t have told her that she’s going to die. What a moron!”

  Riane rose from the couch and walked over to drape one arm around his waist. “Everybody dies, babe. And the other things you told her were a hell of a lot more important.” She gently urged him around to face her. “I need to have one of those conversations with my mother.”

  “You aren’t close?”

  “Oh, we’re extremely close.” Riane’s expression turned thoughtful, and she shook her head. “Thing is, I tend to obsess over my father. What he thinks, what he’s done. But my mother has been every bit as important in shaping me, and I’ve never really told her that.” She forced a smile. “But we’ve got other fish to fry right now. Let’s go get started.”

  “Uh. Sure.” Looking down into her rich chocolate eyes, Nick hoped his utter terror didn’t show on his face.

  It was one thing to know what to do. It was another to actually do it.

  • 29 •

  Nick’s green eyes were enormous with an expression of pure panic Riane had never seen in them before. Despite her own carefully hidden fear, she found herself smiling. “You know what your problem is?”

  His lips twitched. “I d
on’t know what the fuck I’m doing?”

  “No.” She took his hand and towed him toward the couch. “You’re thinking too much. When it comes to the Stone, you do your best work when there’s not a thought in your head.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  She dropped onto the couch, and pulled him down beside her. “Look, they said the Guardian lives inside of you, right? I’ve noticed that whenever you’re pissed off or worried about saving my ass, that’s when you cut loose.”

  “Well, yeah. Because I’m pissed off or worried about you.”

  “No, because you quit thinking so damned much, and you give the Guardian room to work.” Riane threaded one hand in his silken hair and pulled him in for a kiss. “So we need to give the Guardian room to work.”

  She put everything she had into that kiss, first sipping delicately at the warm velvet of his lips, then sliding her tongue into his mouth in slow, suggestive thrusts.

  He felt stiff against her at first—and not in a good way—still too damned conscious of the challenge ahead.

  So Riane began tracing the tips of her fingers along his cheeks, following the jut of bone, the strong angle of his jaw, the cleft of his chin. And all the while, she kissed him, slow licks and tender thrusts of the tongue, mixed with gentle bites. All designed to seduce. “Let go,” she whispered against his mouth. “Let the power roll. Let it come.”

  A spark leaped from his lips to hers, bright, hot, carrying a psychic snap that made them both jump.

  “Yeah,” Riane purred. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. More.”

  Nick pulled back a fraction. His irises had gone a gently glowing green. It spooked her a little, so she fisted her hand in his hair and pulled him in again, kissing, tasting.

  His lips felt feverish. Another spark jumped into her mouth with a sharp pop, but it didn’t hurt this time.

  It felt good.

  A sweet tingle ran up her spine and into the base of her brain. And back down again, bringing every sensual nerve in her body to life.

  Nick cupped her head in big hands so warm they almost burned. Heat that wasn’t really heat spread through her like the blaze of passion growing between them. Minutes spun by as he kissed her, endless and glittering. Riane felt lost in the rise of passion, in the slow thrust of his tongue and the roll of his hips.

 

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