Personal Guardians: Book 2 in the Personal Demons Series

by Rachel A. Collett

  Roman went back to the doors, stepped outside, and closed them behind.

  Dr. Maynes took his seat on the couch. Seemingly unconcerned, he picked up a magazine from the nearby side table.

  “You don’t mind staying here with me, do you Charlie?” I asked, giving her my most practiced smile.

  With a sharp jerk, she ripped her wrist from my grasp, rubbing where my fingers had dug into her skin. “As you wish, my Defender,” she said, her voice a deadly calm.

  She slunk off to the window at the opposite side of the room. Taking a steady breath, I moved to stand next to her, staring out into the darkness of the night. With only the moon to give light, the sanctuary appeared peaceful—wholly disconnected with the turmoil building inside the room. For a moment, I envied the moon and its ignorance.

  No one had even noticed or questioned my motivation for holding Charlotte back—not even Darius. But no one knew what I had felt.

  You think you have to do everything alone, but you have friends. You have The Three, and now you have me. I shook off Darius’s words.

  This was something I had to do alone. Something I wanted to do alone and in order to do so I had lied to Darius… again. There was nothing I needed to stay open for. I already knew what I needed. I only wanted to hear it from her.

  “Wasn’t it you that saw to Zane?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  Her body stiffened at my side. “You would blame me, wouldn’t you?”

  “What did you do, Charlotte?”

  She chuckled. A low breath of air pushed from her lungs. “All I’ve done, all I’ve ever done, was to ensure that this people, my people, stayed safe. I have been their defender this whole time. And then you come. A human haunted by a demon.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. I do have a demon, and yes, he haunts me every day, but because of him I am stronger than I ever was. Maybe that’s what part of their purpose is… to make us stronger. To keep us fighting. Besides, the immortals are not perfect, Charlotte. God does not expect us to be. I am still learning.”

  She clenched her fist at her side. “You do not deserve to be Defender. You do not deserve Darius.”

  “And who does? You?” When she didn’t answer, I projected my energy toward her. Her soul cinched shut, but I kept prodding. “Do you know what I’m capable of?” I asked her, my voice barely more than a whisper.

  “I don’t really care, do I?” she said, but I could sense her heart rate pick up in speed and intensity.

  I smiled despite the tension between us. “You should. It took me a little while to get the hang of it, but when a soul opens to me, I can see their memories—the ones they want to share. I can feel their pain both physical and emotional. I was told that in order to do so, a heart must be open, but I’m sensing that’s not completely correct.” I angled my head, studying the side of her face. Her jaw muscles tensed beneath my pointed gaze. “Like right now, you are having a hard time closing off your emotions. You’re like a leaky faucet. Broken and in need of repair. Try as you might to shut the tap off, a drip or two slips out, exposing the problem.”

  “Shut up,” she hissed.

  “And right now, you are dripping fear, Charlie.”

  Her face stiffened, all expression erased. “Do you know what I’m capable of?” she asked me through a clenched jaw.

  “What? Tell me,” I said, but when she didn’t answer I expanded my powers further out.

  Flashes of Fiona’s face as well as Cedric’s throbbed against my senses as Zane passed in and out of conscious awareness. I pressed my fingers to the pain in my temples. “Zane is waking. They are going to heal him,” I whispered, staring back out the window, but keeping her reflection in view. “What is he going to tell me?”

  I knew what was going to happen even before she moved, and weaved just in time to miss Charlotte’s right cross. Striking nothing but air, she fell forward. I came down hard with a quick elbow to her back. The wind knocked from her lungs with a grunt and she crumpled to the ground.

  “What the devil?” The doctor swore.

  A rattled snarl tore from Charlotte’s lips. Surprisingly strong, she grabbed my ankle and yanked. I stumbled back but managed to stay upright. Charlotte crawled to a standing position. From her pocket she pulled a switch blade. The sound of steel cutting through air caused me to freeze. My pendant pressed even harder against my body and realization dawned upon me why it had been reacting this whole time.

  “Charlotte, what are you doing? Stop that.” Dr. Maynes stood from his seat.

  But she didn’t listen. Taking a defensive stance, she held the knife ready, her gaze fixed upon my face. “When I’m through with you, I’ll join forces with the enemy and destroy this so-called sanctuary.”

  She lunged, but I dodged her attack, knocking her arm with a strong downward block to her wrist. Her blade clattered to the floor.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, taking a step back, I watched her curiously, allowing her time to retrieve her weapon. If what I assumed was correct, I couldn’t kill the demon without killing her, as tempting as it was.

  “Charlie, put that away, you fool. You’ll only make things worse.”

  She pointed the blade at the doctor. “If you don’t shut up, old man, you’ll be next.”

  The doctor hurried to the door and commanded Roman to retrieve The Three. Then he pressed himself against the farthest wall of the room. I wondered why he didn’t flee like usual, but as our eyes connected, he opened to me for the first time.

  Those whom you protect cannot harm you. Only if a demon controls them can a mortal wound you, he communicated to my soul, trying to bring me comfort, but that was the problem.

  He nodded once, then slipped from the room, leaving us alone.

  Coward.

  The doctor didn’t suspect what I did, but his message did give me an idea of how to prove my theory. A memory of when he had stabbed me rushed to my mind: although it was painful, there was no mark when the blade was removed.

  I regarded Charlotte in both alarm and curiosity. And then I moved. Grabbing my knife from my pocket I flicked it open in one swift movement. I shuffled inward, making a clumsy stab at my opponent. Charlotte’s blade connected with mine, deflecting the attempt. Her responding move was just a warning, but I stayed in place, allowing her blade to graze across my forearm. My pendant screamed in dismay, the internal sound reverberating off the hollow places of my mind as blood rose to the surface of the thin-cut line of my flesh.

  My gaze shot to Charlotte. Her stunned expression mirrored mine. “What demon have you allowed in, Charlie? What have you done?” I asked.

  Her mouth clamped shut. Red-faced and angry, she lunged again. Twisting and weaving, I easily deflected all her attacks. With each failed attempt, frustration caused her mental guard to drop more and more, exposing the damage to the inside of her soul.

  On her next downward strike, I ducked in close, blocked her blade, and landed a solid uppercut to her gut. She stumbled back several steps before I planted a side kick to the same spot. She flew into a bookcase, the knife knocked from her hand. I rushed her, grasping her by the neck before she could move again.

  Her eyes grew wide as I applied slight pressure.

  “Do you yield?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  Her breath was ragged and shallow, her face blood-red.

  When she pushed, I shoved her back against the bookshelves even harder until she grimaced in pain.

  “Do you yield?” I yelled.

  “What is going on?” Laith’s voice boomed over the commotion.

  Charlotte paled when he and Elisa entered. Dr. Maynes slipped into the room, the emotion in his eyes a combination of both fear and excitement.

  “My body is yours,” Charlotte growled, drawing my attention.

  My brows knitted in confusion. “What?” I released her neck, fisting her collar. “What did you say?”

  But my anger was short-lived when Charlotte’s ice-blue eyes oozed into deep
pools of tar. She smiled and suddenly shot forward. A sickening crunch echoed between my ears when she head-butted me in the face. Pain exploded. My eyes watered; blood gushed from my nose.

  Temporarily blinded, I stumbled back, swinging wildly, but hit nothing. Charlotte’s hand wrapped around my neck. My feet lifted from the ground, my body propelled into the air. I almost didn’t feel the pain as I flew into something sharp across my back and crumpled boneless to the floor. A rumbling sound echoed and my body stung as a multitude of books came toppling upon me.

  Noise erupted from everywhere at once.

  Sharp nails scratched at my scalp as fingers laced through my hair and wrenched me from the pile, but before I could even cry out in pain, cold metal pressed against my throat. I pushed back into Charlotte at the same time that she pulled me against her chest, moving me away from the blurred forms of my friends.

  “Take another step and I’ll slice her throat,” the demon inside of Charlotte warned, and they froze by the entryway to the library.

  Laith’s voice was a forced calm. “What do you want, Charlotte?”

  “Ava!” Darius bellowed, as he pushed his way into the room, but Laith stopped him before he could take another step. He shoved away Laith’s arm. “Release her, Charlie, or so help me—”

  “It’s not Charlotte,” I said, despite the sting of her blade against my skin. I could feel blood rising to the surface, warm beneath her knife. The Demon’s Eye cried out in confusion.

  “Silence,” the demon screamed in my ear. “All of you!” And I could swear she spoke to my pendant as well. Taking several steps toward the window, she kept me upright as I stumbled back. “Damn it,” she breathed. “This is not how I wanted this to go. I’m sorry, little Ava.”

  My mind reeled, remembering who had once called me by that name. “Violet?”

  She silenced me again, placing the flat of the blade against my cheek. “Let me go and maybe I’ll let your precious Defender live.”

  “What?” A hysterical laugh bubbled from my lips. “Like you did for my mother?”

  Violet stiffened. “You accuse me of her death? How dare you.” She hissed, low and menacing. A shiver rushed down my spine. “Your mother’s blood is on your hands. It was because of you she died.” Keeping me pinned against her, she removed the blade. Grabbing a nearby chair, she wielded it through the window with incredible strength. The wall of glass burst into a million pieces. Sharp shards flew into my hair, imbedded into my skin, and tinkled to the ground.

  Despite the pain that surged, anger coursed even stronger through my veins. Mustering as much energy as I could, I elbowed Violet in the gut, then wrenched free. Her blade sliced my cheek, but I managed to distance myself with a rear-kick to her stomach. She flew back several yards before she could regain control. Rushing me, she plowed her body into my torso, slamming me down upon the library desk. My breath knocked from my lungs.

  With a roar of rage, Darius broke through and rushed forward, but Violet stopped him with the tip of her knife over my heart. “Stay where you are or I’ll kill her!” she screamed. I grabbed her wrist with both hands but she was stronger than I remembered—now, in her prime as she had warned me.

  “Violet, no!” Elisa cried over the commotion. She gripped Darius’s arm to keep him from moving. “Stop. That is Rachel’s daughter. That is your Rachel’s daughter, Violet. To kill her daughter would only bring Rachel displeasure and pain.”

  “But she is the reason Rachel is dead!” Violet shrieked, the tip of the blade pressed into my flesh. “And now”—she brought her mouth down close to mine, her eyes scanning my face—“she will die.”

  My vision clouded over as my pendant erupted. Violet’s face contorted, but she pressed the knife against my rib cage. Sweat dripped from her face onto mine.

  I could have saved you from this.

  I flinched, turning my head to see Dr. Maynes as his thoughts flooded my mind. He watched me—my so-called immortal life at the brink of extinction—his face twisted in both frustration and smugness.

  I’m sorry. I could have spared you this pain and agony years ago. Heaven knows I tried. You must know I tried.

  Darius screamed in rage, as he blew past his friends and across the room, but I barely registered anything else, my eyes growing wide as the doctor’s memory unfolded.

  21

  Enemies

  A baby girl, asleep in her crib. A syringe of clear liquid—the baby didn’t even cry when the doctor injected her.

  “What are you doing, Maynes?”

  My beautiful yet pale mother leaned fragile against the entryway of my nursery room.

  Dr. Maynes put on his kindest smile, dropping the used syringe in the crib. He carefully lifted the baby from the cradle.

  “Would you allow me to inspect the child, my lady? Your sickness concerns me. I want to make sure she is unaffected.”

  My mother nodded, trusting him as she always had, and beckoned him to follow. “After Ava is fed. Bring her to me.”

  The doctor paused midway. He truly felt for my mother. He didn’t want his Defender to witness the death of her only daughter. This was one of the reasons why he had done it—to spare future pain for everyone.

  “But should you feed her when you are so weak? Perhaps a formula instead?”

  She shook her head, pushing herself away from the wall. “I am strong enough. Bring her to me,” she repeated, and weakly shuffled back to her bed.

  My nails dug into Violet’s flesh. A sound foreign and feral ripped from my throat. Controlling the power, I blasted away the demon’s attack as if she were nothing more than a rag doll. She flew across the space, demolishing half the bookshelves on the other side of the room and landing in a heap on the ground.

  Darius was on top of her in half a second more. Tearing her from the floor, he held his knife to her back. Violet’s breathing was ragged and shallow.

  I turned on the doctor, unwilling to move any closer, knowing that if I did, he would die at my bare hands. Tears streamed down my face as I barely contained my rage. I swallowed hard. The sting from the tip of Violet’s blade and the pain in my heart made speaking difficult.

  “What did I see, Maynes? What did you do to me?”

  The doctor’s face paled as he looked to my friends.

  “Ava?” Elisa’s expression was haggard as she took a step toward me. Laith skirted Dr. Maynes behind him.

  “What is going on?” Fiona entered, looking drawn from healing Zane. “Ava?”

  But I ignored her. “Your vision… I saw myself as a baby.” I stalked toward Maynes, toward my prey. I retrieved my knife from where it had fallen to the ground, holding it loosely in my hand.

  Fiona saw the threat and stood in front of Laith, protecting her grandson, shielding him from me.

  “You showed me a syringe.” My voice was barely more than a whisper, but the doctor heard me.

  “You need to back away,” Fiona warned, lifting her hands.

  I looked past her, speaking slowly. “What did you inject me with?”

  “Ava?” Darius called to me.

  I cocked my head to the side. “You showed me a memory of when I was a baby—what did you inject me with, doctor? Did you inject my mother with the same solution? Is that why she was sick?”

  The doctor backed away toward the door but was stopped when he hit a solid wall in the form of a body—Cedric and Roman barred his escape. More witnesses crowded the hallway behind them.

  “Answer her questions,” Cedric said, his eyes narrowed.

  “Benito?” Fiona glanced over her shoulder. Wariness clouded her expression.

  The doctor blanched as he noticed the crowd that had gathered. “It was her fault.”

  “Whose fault?” I shot out, clenching my fist around my weapon.

  Dr. Maynes jerked. Cedric held his arms.

  “I—I told her not to get pregnant. I warned them both of the cost—the suffering that their future child would live through. Experience.”
/>   Fiona’s brows pinched. “Grandson, what did you do?”

  “What we should have done to all of them. What someone should have done for me… I poisoned Ava.”

  Fiona and Elisa gasped at the same time. Cedric closed his eyes, the blood draining from his face.

  The doctor jerked away from his grandfather. Moving from the group and unsure which way to go, he pulled his own knife, standing between me and my friends.

  He pointed his blade my direction. “It was a mercy—sparing you from a more painful, drawn-out death when you got old enough to truly suffer it as you do now.”

  “No, Benito.” Tears leaked from Fiona’s eyes but her reaction only infuriated her grandson further.

  “How was I to know that Rachel would take on Ava’s sickness every time she fed her? How was I to know that an immortal mother could heal her own suckling child? It was Ava that killed her.”

  “No.” A voice, weak and barely recognizable, caught my attention. Violet’s face was grey, the rim of her black eyes red from restrained tears. “You killed my Rachel.”

  “Ava did,” Dr. Maynes growled. “They never should have gotten pregnant. I told th—”

  Violet’s face contorted in anger.

  “You! You weakened my Angel.” Her scream echoed through the room and through the opened doors. “You killed my Rachel!” She struggled against Darius.

  “Roman,” Laith called over the wailings. “Take Maynes to the prison.”

  “What?” The doctor backed away toward the empty wall, shock etched on his face. “But it wasn’t me.”

  “Take him,” Fiona’s voice was gentle, broken.

  Maynes’s face contorted in disbelief—then several things happened at once.

  Violet broke free of Darius and charged Maynes.

  The doctor pulled his gun and shot at Violet.

  When she dropped to the ground the doctor turned the gun on himself. Shoving it into his ribcage, he fired.

  Fiona screamed, catching her grandson before he could fall.

  Violet leapt to her feet, blood oozing from her stomach. Darius rushed her, but she ran from the room and out the already broken window. Roman and Noah followed.