by Sandy James
Rhiannon lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “Rebecca. Her name is Rebecca. She has disappointed me. Her training has been slow. She is more…frail than most. I still am not sure of her worth, and you know she must find the path herself. I cannot help her.”
“You say you cannot, but you’ve helped others, haven’t you? You’ve nae always followed the rules of the Ancients.” Her eyes narrowed, and he let the point drop. “Did you notice she has an old soul? She’s slow at training because she’s cautious, not because she cannot learn.”
“An old soul? You believe she has lived other lifetimes?” The goddess tilted her head, for once seeming to consider his words carefully. “I suppose you may be right. I shall keep a closer watch on my new Amazon. On you as well. I only hope she doesn’t disappoint you in the end, and I hope she doesn’t let her sisters down when they need her.”
She glided to the door before glancing back over her shoulder. The look on her face was anything but conciliatory. “Perhaps, MacKay, you are right to say I think too little of her. Yet it may well prove true that you think too much of her because of your desire to bed her. Ask yourself if you would tolerate such progress from any of the other warriors you have trained.”
Rhiannon disappeared in a burst of light, leaving her words hanging in the air and forcing Artair to think about things he’d been happier ignoring.
Had he been too easy on Rebecca? Had he tolerated habits in her he would have punished in other warriors? Had he let his groin overrule his head?
Not his groin. His heart. What he felt for her wasn’t lust, nor was it born of only desire. It was born of love, pure and simple love. The realization hit him with the force of a blow to the gut. How could he love her?
Rebecca was kind. Beagan and Dolan sang her praises, telling Artair of her many favors. Other Amazons had simply accepted the changelings’ labors as a service they were due. She appreciated them.
Rebecca was loyal. She encouraged Megan, applauding the Fire Amazon’s successes as if they were her own. She listened to every word Sparks said when under her tutelage, always thanking the older Amazon for her efforts and apologizing for not learning quickly.
Rebecca was beautiful. He’d watched her body change in her weeks of induction. Firm breasts, tight muscles. She was sleek, strong and utterly feminine.
How could he not love her?
But Rhiannon’s words haunted him.
Ask yourself if you would tolerate such progress from any of the other warriors you have trained.
Yet Rebecca Massee wasn’t like any other warrior Artair had ever trained. She worked hard, even when he wasn’t pushing her, staying after sunset to move a few more stones, run another mile, or swing her sword for a few more minutes. She never complained, even when her body must have ached from the top of her pretty head to the tips of her dainty toes. The bruises weren’t easy for her to hide. She never refused a task or a challenge, no matter how difficult, no matter how sure she was she would fail. And every time Rebecca fell, she got right back up.
Every time she fell, she—
“Ancients be damned!”
Artair growled as he slammed the door. He’d failed her by letting her fail, by not demanding her success. The Sentinel part of him seized control.
Rebecca could no longer be allowed to fall short. He had to push her harder, had to keep working with her until she learned it all. Had any other Amazon shown the same weaknesses, the same slow progress in mastering her skills, he would have told her goddess to send her back to being a mortal and wipe her memory clean. Rebecca would be of no help to the cause if he couldn’t teach her quickly. The new generation would only be three warriors strong, but better to have three true fighters than three women who spent their energies protecting a weaker sister in battle.
And this time the fight was coming right to them. Soon, he had no doubt. One Amazon was already dead. Two were missing. The new recruits had to be made ready. Quickly.
Rebecca would have to learn, and it was his job to teach her—even if it destroyed whatever she felt for him.
The time had come for him to be her Sentinel.
Chapter Nine
“Again,” Artair said, wishing he didn’t have to.
Rebecca hauled herself back to her feet. He’d been too rough when he’d thrown her to the ground. She winced as she brushed the grass off her backside, which would soon be covered with fresh bruises.
But this was no time for sympathy.
“Again.” He crooked his finger at her.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
That “again” found her back on the grass, this time face-first.
“Again.”
Rebecca rolled to her side, hoisted herself up on an elbow and stared at him with a hard, accusing gaze. “I can’t.”
“Ye can.”
“I can’t.” Even as she replied, she pushed herself to her feet.
He’d tried everything he could to reach her, to teach her. Hour upon hour of hand-to-hand combat, of climbing the tower, of wielding a sword, of shooting a bow. “Come on, you lazy wench. Get up and drop me on my arse.”
He wanted to harness the tangible fury that was flowing through her. Anger had always been the trigger for Amazons. Anger at her fiancé had set off an earthquake—but that had been nothing more than a reflex. He had to make her angry enough to reach deep down and find her powers to make the ground shake because she wanted it to.
“If you can drop me on my arse,” he scoffed. “Which I doubt.” She had to learn how to do this, she just had to. Time was running out.
Her eyes shot fire—she could have belonged to Freya instead of Rhiannon. “I’m not a wench, you stubborn Scot.” With a snarl, she charged at him.
Despite his teaching, her attacks never varied, always coming at him head-on. Even if she didn’t listen, she should have learned from watching Sparks and Megan spar with him that any kind of frontal assault on someone of his size would never succeed. Rebecca was too hard-headed to give up her tactic, even though she had to know each charge would be a futile attempt. While he admired her tenacity, she wasn’t learning, and Artair feared she would never grasp enough to protect herself, let alone fight.
Rebecca was clearly exhausted after more than an hour of him throwing her to the grass. Her body had to be black and blue, and he’d dropped her on her face once hard, causing a small stream of blood to trickle from her nose. It didn’t look broken, but she would surely have two black eyes come the evening.
Yet she still came at him.
With a grunt, she threw her arms around his waist, trying to knock him off balance. In a single motion, he picked her up by the hips, flipped her in the air and dropped her on her back. The loud oof told him he’d knocked the air from her lungs. This time, she didn’t struggle to rise.
“Enough!” Artair wanted to hit something. Hard.
He had no choice. He’d tried. She’d tried. But Rebecca hadn’t progressed despite all their hard work. His heart clenched, knowing what needed to be done.
The Amazon who needed him the most, the only woman he’d ever loved, and he’d failed her.
Artair couldn’t lose her in battle, especially when it was his lack of training her in proper technique that would see her injured.
Or dead.
“I’m sending you back. You cannot do this.”
He turned on his heel and strode away, planning on telling Rhiannon to send Rebecca back to her old life. She could go back to the wee bairns she said she missed. She could go back to find a husband and raise a family of her own, although the thought of another man touching her made his gut twist into painful knots.
She would live, and that was all that truly mattered.
Sparks put herself in his path so quickly Artair almost plowed right over her. He smelled the smoky haze of her anger. “You can’t do that. If you send her back, that leaves us short. Three new.” She held up three fingers as if he didn’t understand. “Only three new, and two o
f them are on the West Coast. And we still can’t find Trishna or Helen.” She fisted her hands against her hips and glared at him, a small blue flame rising from her hair. “Something bad is after us, hunting us like fucking animals. Something really, really bad. Rebecca has to stay, Celt. You have to teach her. You never gave up on Helen. You can’t give up on Rebecca. We can’t give up.”
He looked back at Rebecca as he tried to think with his head and not his heart. Megan was helping her to her feet, and the two women watched him with accusing eyes.
Artair couldn’t keep Rebecca, no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much it hurt to know she’d have a life that didn’t include him. No matter how much the idea of her loving another man pierced his heart like a knife. This was for her own good. For the good of the Amazons. For the good of humanity.
Staring at her as she and Megan joined hands, he realized he had to drive her away. She would never leave on her own. He hated humiliating Rebecca, but he had to—she had to accept his choice for her future. If it took shaming her to make her want to leave, he would bear her scorn to save her life.
Artair turned back to Sparks. “I’ve tried to get through to her, but I—” He shook his head. “She doesn’t have the desire to fight, and if I send her into a battle, she’ll die. Or she’ll cause you to die protecting her. You know she will. She’s not a warrior. She doesn’t want to do this, Sparks.”
“She does,” Megan said. “I’ll work with her.”
Rebecca was still trying to force air back in her lungs with big gulps. Her words barely reached him across the distance. “You can’t…send me away. I won’t…let you. They…need me.”
“Nay, lass. They don’t need you. Yer nae but a deadweight dragging them down. You’ll only be in their way.” He’d made his choice. “I cannot let you stay.” He stepped around Sparks and walked away.
Rebecca chased after him. “You can’t send me away. I won’t let you.”
“I can and I will. I’m the Sentinel. ’Tis my choice to make,” he called over his shoulder. He couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t let her see how much this was killing him.
“No! I won’t abandon them. They’re my sisters.”
With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly turned back, trying to hide his pain. “Ye cannae do this, Becca. I must return you to your old life.”
“What will happen to her?” Megan asked. “If you send her back, what will happen to her? Will she remember being an Amazon?”
Artair forced his voice to remain steady and calm despite the storm of emotions raging through him. “Nay. Rhiannon will erase her memories and put her life to right. She won’t remember anything.” Or anyone. “She can go back to being a teacher. ’Tis a more fitting profession for her. She isnae an Amazon. She’s a mistake.”
“Goddesses don’t make mistakes, you stubborn bastard,” Sparks scolded, shaking her finger at him as bits of fire shot from her fingertip and dropped to fizzle out in the grass. “There’s always a reason for what is and what will be. You taught me that. Rebecca’s here for a reason and you damn well know it.”
Artair heaved another sigh. “She’s nae but a mistake. She cannae learn.”
“If I’m a mistake, will Rhiannon call another to take my place?” Rebecca asked, the anger clear in her tone. “I won’t leave them shorthanded. Sparks and Megan need me. So do Gina and Sarita.”
The three women had come to stand as a united front, Megan and Sparks on either side of Rebecca. They faced their Sentinel with joined hands. He could almost see the new Air and Water at their sides.
While his heart swelled with pride that the women had bonded, he shook his head again, undeterred from doing what was best for Rebecca. For all the Amazons. “Nay. They’ll just have to soldier on without you. I doubt they’ll notice yer gone.” He winced at his cruel words.
“I won’t leave,” Rebecca insisted. “I won’t.”
“Ye will, lass. You’ve no choice in the matter.” Watching them together made his heart ache. This was how it should be—Amazons working together. Although he’d tried, giving Rebecca more time and training than any other warrior, still she remained defenseless. His heart heavy, Artair bowed his head and walked away.
“No! You can’t!” Rebecca shouted. “I won’t leave them!”
He didn’t turn back this time.
“No!” She ran after him and jumped on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
Artair flipped her over his shoulder and to the ground. Putting a foot on her stomach, he looked down at her. She was furious, sweaty and red-faced, glaring up at him even as she struggled to catch her breath again and push his foot off her.
The ground began to rumble, a small tremor—not strong enough to be effective as a weapon. Another reflex. He was just about to remove his foot from her stomach and walk on when the ground on either side of him suddenly opened.
Long vines shot up to wrap around his knees and waist. Rebecca worked her way to a crouch and used a front sweep to knock his feet out from under him. He was on his back before he could mount a defense. The vines grew rapidly, spreading over his body, tying his arms and legs and pinning him to the ground.
He found himself entirely at her mercy.
With a triumphant smirk, blood still trickling from her nose, Rebecca stood over him. She put her small foot in the center of his stomach. “I won’t leave them, damn it. And you—you big bully—can’t make me.”
Sparks and Megan came to stand at her side, and the women scowled down at him.
Trussed up like a roasting pig, Artair had never been happier in his life. He finally understood. While anger might have been a typical Amazon’s trigger, it was love that unleashed Rebecca’s true powers. Love for her sisters. No Amazon had ever had been so unique, and he was foolish for having doubted her abilities. He’d been a poor trainer, assuming when he shouldn’t have.
Rebecca could learn. And now that he’d uncovered her secret, he could teach her.
“Aye, Becca mine. You’re staying.”
* * *
Rebecca held her chin up and made it back to her cabin on her own power, but it hadn’t been easy. There wasn’t a place on her body that wasn’t screaming in pain, and all she wanted to do was collapse. She urgently wished for aspirin, and hoped Beagan and Dolan would provide some. Maybe they’d fetch her a king-sized Snickers while they were at it.
The cabin wasn’t empty. Two men no taller than her kindergarteners puttered around, setting up a computer and monitor on a small desk that hadn’t been there when she’d left for training.
Beagan and Dolan. At last.
Rebecca smiled at the changelings, not only for their kindness, but because they reminded her so much of how she’d pictured the hobbits from the Tolkien books she loved.
One changeling was a redhead with a bushy beard who was busily fussing over the wiring behind the computer. The other had hair the color of sable and a smooth, pink face. He stared at the monitor, clucking his tongue in displeasure. Both wore the crowns of daisies she’d left for them that morning.
“Which one of you is Beagan and which one is Dolan?” she asked.
The changelings stopped and turned toward her. Broad grins crossed each face.
The redhead spoke first. “Mistress, we’re sorry. This was to be ready ’ere you returned. I am Beagan.”
“And I am Dolan,” the darker of the two replied. “We are connecting you to the new Sentinel and the other warriors on the new Sentinel’s orders. You are to have more toys.” He pointed to a smartphone sitting on her nightstand.
“New Sentinel? Why do we need a new Sentinel?” As if she needed two men dropping her on her ass.
She stepped around to look at the screen. A fine specimen of a man with stylishly messy sun-bleached hair and the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen was talking, although no sound came from the speakers. From the expression on his face and the way he gestured with his hands, he was annoyed. Maybe more
than annoyed. “Is that him? What about Artair?”
“Yes, that is the new Sentinel, mistress,” Dolan replied.
“Please call me Rebecca. Or Becca.”
From his wide eyes, Dolan considered her suggestion outrageous. “The Sentinel will have to explain why a new one is being trained.”
Sparks had vaguely hinted that Artair was planning on leaving, but Rebecca had pushed the thought aside as she’d concentrated on her training. With a new highly agitated “boss” staring back at her, she could no longer ignore the threat.
Artair couldn’t leave her. Not now. Not when she was making some progress. Not when she had a chance to be a strong Amazon.
“We should be done soon, mistress,” Beagan said. “We’re having some difficulty with the connections. We’re sorry to inconvenience you.”
She dismissed that notion with a wave of her wrist before wincing at the ache the movement sent through her arm. Damn, it was a good thing Amazons healed quickly. “You’re doing me a favor, not inconveniencing me. And please, call me Rebecca.”
Incredulous scoffs slipped from both changelings. She gave up the familiarity fight.
Megan came running through the door. “Hey, Rebs! I have electricity. I have electricity! And there’s some boxes with a—” She stopped talking and came to stand by Rebecca. “You got one too.” Her gaze fell to Beagan and then Dolan. “Changelings?”
“Yep.”
“Sweet. Hey, guys?” They paused to look up at her. “I could really use some more cigarettes when you get a chance.”
They nodded, returning quickly to their work.
Staring at the monitor, Megan asked, “Who’s that?”
“Our new Sentinel.”
She wolf-whistled. “Oowee. He’s a cute one. Looks like a surfer. Wonder if he’s as big as Artair.”
Rebecca didn’t care whether he was as big as the Jolly Green Giant. She wanted Artair. She needed Artair. Turning her back on the new Sentinel, she sat her sore body down on the bed.
