Ranger (Elemental Paladins Book 4)

by Montana Ash

  “Hi guys!” Max greeted, trying to push Darius out of the way, no easy feat considering he was a solid six-foot-three to her petite five-foot-three. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” she grunted, finally succeeding in squeezing past him. Even herself, having no shame, fought a blush when three identical sets of dimples flashed her way.

  “Anytime,” Kellan purred.

  Max cleared her throat, “I wanted to ask if you would all do me a favour …” she began, only to be interrupted by a subtle cough from Darius. She turned to him, eyebrows raised.

  “Max does not have a favour to ask in the strictest sense. She has a job for you – a duty,” Darius pointed out, formally.

  Max would have rolled her eyes but she knew it would do no good. Darius had lightened up a little since allowing himself to love Diana and since his brother’s return. But he was still a compulsive rule-follower and his duty was the foundation of his being, so she let him posture and lecture a little as she considered the three young men in front of her.

  The three men with the dark brown, short-cropped hair, chiselled jawlines, smoky grey eyes, and adorable dimples were now standing to attention, looking the very epitome of soldiers. Max knew for all their cheekiness and flirtations, they were highly skilled paladins – albeit relatively young by warden society standards. Even Ryker, who scowled every time he heard their names, vouched for their skill and professionalism in the field. She had no idea why they were as yet unbound. She knew they had passed the entire paladin examination process with flying colours and many wardens had petitioned the IDC for them to join their Orders. The three men had so far declined every offer. She knew their polite and diplomatic refusals would not be tolerated for much longer. As civilised as the International Domain Council appeared to be at times, they were a dictatorship.

  She also already knew they were trustworthy and reliable. She’d taken it upon herself to check out their colourful shadows when they had stepped into the room. All three were predictably vibrant, the men full of life. She was a little surprised to see a shadow of grey hovering around their hearts but supposed no-one was safe from some form of heartache in their lives. But what had sealed their fates, was the new circle of symbols their cheeky souls had avidly pointed out. The three men were loyal and had been deemed worthy.

  She’d be lying if she said the magic brands didn’t freak her out a little. She hadn’t been lying to Ryker and the others when she’d said she had no idea how she was making them. She had no intention, let alone any recollection of transferring the brands – other than to Ivy and Dex, which she had witnessed first-hand. These others – Caspian, Leo, Lawson, Fawn, and now the triplets – it was news to her. But Lark’s explanation made sense and she had no choice but to trust that the universe knew what it was doing and the people being selected to be marked were indeed loyal and worthy recipients.

  She was going to need them.

  As Darius’s lecture wound down, Max refocused her attention on the brothers, “Will you three relax? Darius is just being dramatic,” she informed them. Kane’s lips twitched but he didn’t change position and she knew they were taking Darius’s firm words to heart. Or they were attempting to at least. Feeling a little nervous, she looked to her friends. And after receiving five individual nods she took a deep breath and began talking.

  As suspected, the triplets took her ‘job offer’ in stride and had all professed to be willing to aid her in any way possible. Outwardly they seemed totally fine but Max couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they were holding something back a little. It was something to do with that little grey smudge over their hearts …

  ‘Max? What is it?’ Cali asked, picking up on her tension.

  ‘They’re withholding something,’ she admitted, not wanting to get them into trouble but needing to be honest with her Order.

  “Okay boys, fess up,” Cali commanded, her fingers firmly enlaced with her fiancé’s.

  They looked genuinely startled, “What?” Kane asked.

  “You’re not telling us something. What is it?” Cali asked in her typical blunt fashion. “And before you try to deny it, remember; Custodian,” she pointed at Max.

  The brothers looked at each other before Kane sighed and slumped a little in the seat he was sitting in. They had all migrated to the dining area when her long-ish tale had begun. “We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to offend. It’s just …”

  “This kind of thing hits a little close to home,” Kai finished. “Our father is a chade – or was a chade. No doubt he’s long since dead.”

  Max closed her eyes, cursing herself silently. Suddenly those little grey patches of pain and hurt made sense. If only she didn’t cling so stubbornly to her aversion to reading people, she could have seen this coming. There was no way she would have asked them had she known. Clearly sensing her distress, Kai placed a large, warm hand on her arm;

  “I can see what you’re thinking and it’s not a problem. We meant what we said – we’re happy to help. More than that, we’re honoured to be entrusted with such an important task.”

  “Besides, Kai’s right. It was a long time ago – the Great Massacre to be exact,” Kellan added.

  “Close to half a century,” Dex murmured, clearly thinking of his forty years spent in exile and darkness.

  “That’s right. That’s how we know he must be dead by now. It’s just too long. And if he weren’t. No chade could come back from that,” Kellan shook his head.

  “But, that just makes this even more significant to us. If we can help save someone else’s father, then we want to do everything we can to make it happen,” Kane vowed.

  Dex clapped him on the back and even Darius now appeared to be looking at them with less hostility. And then Max felt it. It was a tingle of warning, a split second of premonition in which all she could do was gasp before the back doors slammed open once again. Burying her face in her hands and wishing she would have seen this coming, she could only close her eyes in defeat when she heard three voices cry out simultaneously;

  “DAD?!”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  For once, his liege’s advice had proved useless. The irritating woman had been right about everything since the second they had met and when she finally decided to be wrong, it just had to be about him and Ivy. Three weeks. Three weeks and nineteen chade redemptions later and Lark was about at the end of his rope. Max had told him to be patient, to show her he wasn’t like every other arsehole out there bent on getting into her pants. But he had been patient, dammit! He had been funny and kind – he was great company! He had also been totally kickarse with the chades – fighting and killing those that couldn’t be saved and acting as the conduit for Max to those that could.

  But was the woman impressed? No! If anything, with every passing day, she became more closed off and distant. It was really pissing him off. He didn’t know what else he could do – other than molesting her against the car again, that seemed to work out pretty well the first time. But then, he knew that was likely the reason she had shut down on him. The situation reminded him a little of how Ryker had been with Max – always blowing hot and cold. Although to be fair, Ivy had never been hot – lukewarm maybe – on her good days. But still, there was only so much ice he could take before he got frostbite … And he was feeling pretty frickin’ cold!

  And when he wasn’t feeling the cold, winter chill that was Ivy? He was feeling horny – like, all day, every day, kind of horny. He was forced to watch her wield that sexy, lethal blade of hers all day long. And that sinister cloak of hers that made him picture the subtle curves on the short frame hidden underneath? He was getting a serious case of blue balls. Suddenly, his Captain’s predicament when he had first met Max was no longer so amusing. Popping wood a dozen times a day was not his definition of fun.

  As for his other companion, Knox couldn’t exactly be called chatty but his one-word responses still held more warmth and interest than any of Ivy’s. He had seemed a bit thunderstruck after his fir
st trip back to the hotel but his demeanour had continued to improve upon each round-trip home, so Lark wasn’t concerned. That first week, Knox had followed them in the second car, ferrying the partially-healed chades back to Max and the hotel. It had been a rather time-consuming process because he and Ivy had been forced to wait until Knox returned before they could make further attempts to identify chades.

  It had been Knox who had suggested an alternative. He would travel in his ‘other’ form, basically as the air itself. Because the others could also revert to the pure states of their domains, Knox could guide them back in the same manner. It had definitely saved time and the last couple of weeks had consisted of he and Ivy travelling in the car while Knox caught up with them as the wind. They would locate chades, identify who still clung to their souls, give them a hit of vicarious Max, and move on to the next location while Knox escorted the chade-wardens back.

  It had been a very successful process and he knew by his daily check-ins with his Order that things were progressing very well back at the camp and the hotel. Nearly all the chades sent back were already sporting some new ink and were slowly reacclimating to being wardens again. As far as he was aware, there had only been one instance when one of the survivors had tried to get a little too close to Caspian. Leo had promptly removed his head – a decidedly messy experience because the chade in question had been healed enough that he didn’t just go ‘poof’ anymore. Leo had been unrepentant under Caspian’s scolding but no-one else, not even Max, had reprimanded the paladin.

  As for Lark and Ivy now? They were headed down another stretch of highway, en route to their next possible chade sighting. Picturing another cheap motel, with dust-filled pillows and who knows how much random human DNA clinging to the mattress, Lark made a sharp turn onto the next highway exit. He had caught sight of a big sign advertising a five-star hotel just ten minutes from here. If he had to travel with shitty companionship and stay in an even shittier hotel one more night, he thought he might just snap. In fact, it took Ivy a good five minutes to notice they were no longer on the scheduled route. It just proved how hard she was focusing on ignoring him and he felt his temper flare to life once more.

  “What are you doing? The next location is still two hours away,” she said, looking out the window.

  “I know,” he said. See? He could do short, snappy sentences too. He didn’t always have to be happy and full of conversation.

  “Do we need petrol?” she queried.

  “No.”

  “Do you need to go to the bathroom?” she tried again.

  “No.”

  “Then what are we doing?” she asked, sounding frustrated now.

  “We’re stopping here for the night,” he stated, already turning into the driveway of a truly beautiful old Victorian-style hotel. It had five, yellow shiny stars above its name and Lark felt like whimpering in gratitude.

  Ivy’s head was whipping back and forth from him to the window, “Here? What? Why?”

  “Because I want to,” he informed her.

  She looked incredulous and more than a little confused by his odd behaviour, “Because you want to? What are you – ten?”

  He flashed her a look filled with heat, “Really, Ivy? Another comment about my age? Be careful, I’m sure you remember where that got you before.” The warning had the desired effect and her mouth closed with a snap.

  Gazing out his window, he noticed that the hotel was not only big and beautiful but it also nestled into the surrounding landscape like it had sprung from the rainforest itself. Oh yes, they were definitely staying here tonight. His body was practically vibrating with the need to reconnect to his element – as well as a feather-down pillow.

  Putting the car in park, he pocketed the keys, “Come on,” he threw over his shoulder. He didn’t bother to wait for a response, just hopped out and began striding to the entrance. He heard a car door slam and stomping footsteps as they hurried to catch up – he didn’t bother tempering his longer strides to match her shorter ones.

  “Wait a minute. What the hell is going on?” she huffed out.

  He came to an abrupt halt, causing her to crash into him. His mood was so dark that the full-body contact only made his dick twitch to half-mast, “Look, I don’t know about you but I’m tired, I’m sore, I’m cranky, and I’m starving. I’m taking the night off and asking for a late check-out and pretending there are no such things as chades.”

  Less than ten minutes later, he was leaning back against a solid oak door, his bag at his feet and a pouting Ivy stashed away in the adjoining room. His eyes scanned the room from the high ten-feet, tray ceilings to the gorgeous crown molding lining the walls and over to the king-sized canopy bed with the mahogany-coloured comforter. It was even better than his tired brain could have imagined. But he was still a knight and the twinge of guilt he felt had him groping for the Order link;

  ‘Max?’

  ‘S’up?’

  Lark grinned, even hearing his liege’s voice was enough to make him smile. The distance away from Max had also been a strain on him. That was another reason why paladins were never far from their wardens; the bond. It was a bond that was literally soul deep. His need to ensure to Max’s safety, health, and happiness was so entrenched in him now, that he couldn’t remember what it felt like to be un-bound. If it weren’t for the daily connection with her and his Order when they healed the chades, he was sure he would have needed to turn back long before now in order to satisfy his sense of duty.

  ‘I’m taking the night off. Check out my digs for the night,’ he crowed, scanning the room again so Max could ‘see’.

  ‘Oooh, nice! I bet a place like that has a spa bath. Enjoy. You deserve it,’ his liege said.

  Max didn’t even hesitate. Not one question about why he was there or what he was doing or when he would be leaving. No scolding about getting the job done. Just: enjoy! Was it any wonder why he adored the woman? ‘Thank you. We’ll be back on the road tomorrow,’ he informed her even though she hadn’t asked.

  ‘No probs. Oh, and Lark?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Patience, remember?’

  He growled at that, ‘What the hell do you think I’ve been doing?! Max! Max!’ But it was no use, his liege had closed the link. Damn aggravating woman, he grumbled silently, no more adoration for her! he promised himself. After a few more grumbles he availed himself of the facilities and noticed Max had been correct, there was indeed a spa bath.

  Although the claw-foot tub called to him like a siren, he was famished and he made his way out the door. Despite himself, he paused at Ivy’s door, listening for any signs of movement. Hearing nothing through the thick wood and feeling like a creeper, he raised his fist to knock. As soon as Ivy cracked the door open he began to speak;

  “The menu from the restaurant looked amazing. And I saw they have live entertainment with a dance floor. I don’t care what you do but I’m going to go and sit at a restaurant and eat like a civilised person while listening to some relaxing music,” he informed her and headed to the elevator, not waiting to see if she came or not.

  Seeing the suspicious look in her eyes when she had opened the door had brought his temper flaring to life once more. He knew whatever else was on the fancy menu, a decent scotch would also be included.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Ivy was left standing in the doorway of her truly spectacular suite, watching Lark’s truly spectacular arse flex and bunch as he marched purposefully away from her. Although she couldn’t be positive what had prompted his sudden change in attitude, she could make an educated guess. It was because of her. After that first day when he had pushed her up against the car and given her the best orgasm of her life, she had reverted back to the old ranger who was cold and unfeeling. Why? Because the fact that he had given her a blinding orgasm without even taking her clothes off had terrified her as much as thrilled her.

  She had known there was something special about him the moment she laid eyes on him. Attraction, yes, bu
t after so long on the road with him, she knew there was so much more. When he had touched her, never once looking away, as if he saw the real her – as if wanted to see the real her … Well, it had given her something she knew she couldn’t afford; hope.

  She was a ranger, her duty was to imprison, punish, and kill. Lark was all happy, warm, and fun. Basically? Everything she wasn’t. She hadn’t wanted to tarnish that shine he had and she knew that is exactly what would happen if she let that hope keep blooming in her chest. So she had cut off their budding friendship and easy comradery at its knees and proceeded to only talk shop for the last three weeks.

  It had been hell, pure and simple. She had been forced to sit next to him in the car day after day, his fresh scent driving her crazy, and his warm attempts at conversation and humour making her melt inside. She was dying to respond to him, to ask him questions, but she had held back, figuring he would give up in time. He hadn’t – until today. She had never seen him like this – so closed off, so cold. It was like he was channelling her or something. Her knees buckled with that thought and she had to hang on to the doorframe for support when she realised she had done the exact thing she thought a relationship with him would do; take away his shine.

  Thinking quickly, she wondered what she could do to repair the damage she had caused – if he would even be receptive to reigniting their fledgling, friendly relationship. She wasn’t looking for anything further, she told herself. She just wanted the happy Lark back. Picking up her phone, she dialled the one person she knew would give her unconditional help.

  “Bey? I need your advice.”

  *****

  Apologise? Ivy thought as she made her way downstairs to where she knew the restaurant was. After listening carefully to her tale of her poor attitude and even poorer behaviour, Beyden’s golden advice had been to apologise. She supposed to anyone else the solution would have been obvious but like Ryker had suggested; she was a little socially stunted. Her brother had broken it down in his customary, sensible fashion;