Revelation (The Guardian Series Book 3)

by A. J. Messenger

  “Yes, I remember Avestan telling me something similar,” I say dryly, “right before he trapped me in Nusquam and tried to kill me.” I’m weighing my options on what to do next: Run? Try to extract my phone from my backpack quickly and call Alexander? When I see my history professor walk into the far end of the parking lot I feel monumentally safer and I take a deep breath.

  “How’s this,” Malentus says, “I’ll fix your tire for you. All I ask is that you listen to the truth first, about us.”

  “I know all I want to know about dark guardians,” I say as I watch my history professor stop where she stands. She makes brief eye contact with me and then pulls out her phone to make a call.

  “No, I mean us. You and me. And our connection. There’s a reason I sent Avestan to find you when you turned eighteen.”

  “And I suppose you came here to tell me.”

  “Yes, I came here to give you the truth,” he says, his voice seductively smooth. “I don’t know what the guardians have told you, but they have a nasty habit of withholding essential information.”

  “Excuse me, can you tell me what time it is?” The voice startles me and I turn to see a man standing by his car a few spaces down. I didn’t even see him walk up.

  “It’s half six,” Malentus says with irritation, answering him. The man nods and looks at both of us and gets into his car. Was that a guardian? Then why is he leaving?

  For some reason I feel emboldened and I turn back to Malentus with anger rising within me and I feel the warmth in my core—my light stirring—as I speak. “I don’t need to hear whatever you have to say. I already know about your so-called ‘connection’ to my family. You forced my dad to make an awful deal with you, and then, when you saw that he managed to make a happy life for himself in spite of it all, you couldn’t resist coming back and manipulating your evil puppet strings until he was killed in the end anyway. You sent Avestan to find me because you were worried my dad passed along his power, despite the fact that you stole that away from him. Did I miss anything?”

  Malentus looks taken aback. “It’s difficult to steal something,” he says with smooth smugness, “when it’s offered freely.”

  “Freely? Or under duress?” I say. “You were torturing my mom in front of him.”

  “I was dating your mom in front of him.”

  I’m sickened by his answer. “I’m not surprised that’s what you’d call it.”

  He shakes his head. “Is that what your so-called guardians told you? The guardians whom you trust so implicitly? You asked me if you missed anything and I’m compelled to inform you that, yes, you did miss something. The most important piece of the puzzle, in fact.”

  “I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” I spit out with disgust. “And you know what? I don’t even need my car. I’ll take the bus.” I grab my backpack and begin to turn in the direction of the bus stop and my history professor, who I can see is still talking on her phone.

  “I’m your father, Declan,” Malentus states matter-of-factly.

  The words fall over me like a heavy shroud and I stop moving, stunned.

  “They kept that part from you, I take it.” His voice is dark and smug.

  I turn back to face him. “You’re lying,” I say, bile rising in my throat.

  “The man you call your father raised you, but you come from me.”

  “You’re lying,” I say again, anger swelling in my chest. “You’re scared of me and you’re scared of the child growing inside me and you’ll say anything to serve your purposes and get me to listen to you.”

  “Do I look scared to you, Declan?” His voice is sickeningly smooth.

  I stand firm, but inside I’m shaking. “My father was a good man,” I insist, “and you’re pure evil.”

  “And yet I’m your father,” he says with a ring of finality. “So what does that make you? And what does that make that child you’re carrying?”

  “This is a trick,” I spit out. “You want to harm my baby.”

  “Why would I want to harm my grandchild? A grandchild who holds my power? The question is, how do you feel about your child? Now that you know the truth?” His words drip acid. “Maybe I should be protecting the baby from you? And the so-called guardians?”

  “You’re a liar,” I say with disgust, and desperation. Could any of this be true? “And you’re sheer evil. I can see it in your face. Your eyes are dead, and dark, and bottomless. When I look in the mirror I see my dad’s eyes staring back at me. I know who my real father is.”

  He nods, slowly. “That’s what Frank hoped, Declan—that his influence, along with your mother’s, would overcome your lineage. And perhaps it did. On the surface. But deep inside you, parts of me are lurking and someday you’ll realize that good and bad and right and wrong are relative terms. Perhaps your child will understand that from the start.” He leans closer, meeting my eyes with his cold, dead stare before continuing. “What I hope, as your father, is that you’ll let me protect your child from the guardians you mistakenly think are looking out for your best interests,” he says darkly. “Think about it. And then you’ll understand and accept my offer to help you, and the child inside you, willingly.”

  He touches the tip of his boot to my car’s tire and I watch as it slowly reinflates. “If you apply enough pressure to an object—or a person—from every direction,” he says, “it will always collapse and give you what you want. But when you release the pressure, there can be a recovery … of sorts.” He looks into my eyes. “I hope you make the wise choice, Declan.” Then he walks away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  By the time I reach Alexander’s house, I feel as though I can’t breathe. I didn’t call him from the car because I was stunned and reeling and I wanted to convince myself that everything Malentus said was lies, but all I managed to do was spin myself up further. When Alexander opens the door, he sees the look on my face and folds me into his arms. I feel a flood of his energy pouring over me, gradually soothing my ragged insides so I can remember how to find my center and calm my racing heart.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re here with me,” he says over and over as he holds me. “What happened?” he asks and I can see the intensity of the worry in his eyes. He walks me over to the couch in the living room and sits me down next to him and, as he holds my hands, I manage to spill out everything, relaying every detail.

  “Is it true?” I ask, emotions overflowing. I can’t help think that if this is something Alexander has been keeping from me I won’t ever be able to forgive him. Not this time.

  “No, Declan, no,” he says vehemently. “It can’t be. He said it to plant doubt in your mind. It’s a trick.”

  “But what if it is true? What if I am his daughter? And our baby is his grandchild?”

  He shakes his head resolutely. “I’ll never believe that. You could no more be Malentus’s daughter than I could. You’re pure goodness, Declan. Through and through. I feel it. I’d know if part of you was as dark as Malentus.” He looks into my eyes. “Our child was created with pure love. It’s a child that’s going to change the world—for the forces of good, not evil. Malentus knows that. He’s trying to make you have doubts so you’ll fall into his trap. He’s desperate to keep the baby from ever being born.”

  “Would you tell me the truth?” I ask, searching his eyes. “Even if it were true? You haven’t been keeping this from me?”

  “Declan,” he says, meeting my gaze, “I learned my lesson. I would never keep anything like that from you ever again. I promise you, with every fiber of my being, that I would tell you if I knew this to be true. But it isn’t. It’s all lies meant to cause you anguish and make you doubt. He wants you to trust him. And follow him. So he can hurt you and our child.”

  “But how do you know?” I say with a rush of emotion. “My mom said she dated Malcolm. And she became pregnant with me right after, when she was with my dad—so the timing is possible. Even if she didn’t sleep with Malentus willingly,
something could have happened in Nusquam. She doesn’t remember anything. How would we even know? Maybe that’s why my dad gave away his power. Not just because he loved my mom but so he could make sure that he and my mom raised me, instead of Malentus.” I look up into Alexander’s eyes. “That would explain why I have powers even though my dad didn’t. Maybe my power is evil power, from Malentus.” My words flow out as a surging stream of jumbled thoughts and distress. “How do you know he’s not telling the truth?”

  “I know, Declan,” he says, looking deep into my eyes, “because I know you. Inside and out. And I know your power. It’s good. Like you are. Do you trust me? Do you trust that I would know if this were true? Please don’t let him get inside your head. This is their game. They drop bombs and plant doubt and watch the ensuing mayhem from the sidelines with glee. I know you. And I love you. And I’m telling you, you bring light to the world, not darkness. And I know in my heart our child will bring pure light, too.”

  I nod, wanting to believe him. But from direct experience I know that Avestan, and now Malentus, are artful at planting seeds of doubt and waiting for the malicious tendrils of suspicion to take root and grow.

  In a small corner of my mind disquiet gives way to misgiving and I wonder if I can ever feel fully certain of anything ever again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Edwin arrives home as we’re talking and Alexander and I fill him in. He reacts with an instant of shocked horror followed by a response so swift and sure that it makes me feel hopeful.

  “Declan,” he says, leaning forward as he sits in his reading chair next to the couch where I’m sitting, “I don’t believe this is true for a moment. It’s a desperate, vicious lie meant to trick you or at least leave you dreadfully unsteady and I’m sorry that it seems to be working.” He reaches over to squeeze my hand as he looks at me before continuing. “But you need to understand something … because I can see in your eyes that you’re carrying some doubt. Even if it were true, your physical mixture of molecules and atoms don’t make you who you are. It’s what’s inside your heart. And I see what Alexander sees and every other guardian who protects you sees. You are light and beauty and kindness and you’re good. It’s in your eyes and it’s in the way you carry yourself in the world and treat those around you. The universe is a better place for having your soul in it. And I’ve said it before, but I firmly believe it: your child is going to change the world. For the better. I’m certain of that.”

  His words and the surety behind them cause a lump to form in my throat, and as I look into his eyes I can see the sincerity resting there. I had no idea that was how Edwin thought of me. He squeezes my hand again and I can’t keep myself from standing up and giving him a giant, sloppy hug for his warmth and kindness.

  As comforted as I am, however, my mind keeps replaying one part of what he said: “even if it were true” like a turntable needle stuck in a groove. Edwin, unlike Alexander, hasn’t discounted the possibility outright, and that leaves me feeling quietly unsettled, despite what he said about molecules and atoms.

  It’s beginning to sink in, distressingly, that I may never be free from some measure of doubt.

  “Do you want to postpone the wedding?” Alexander asks me as we lie in bed in his room with morning sunlight peeking in the blinds. We fell asleep in each other’s arms last night, fully clothed, on top of his bed, as he held me and tried to reassure me over and over that everything Malentus told me was all lies. It was only in the middle of the night that we awoke and finally got undressed and under the covers together—the state we’re in now.

  “What? No, of course not,” I say. I lift my head off his chest to look into his eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to this and counting down the days.”

  He leans over and kisses me. “Me, too. But I would understand if you want some time to process everything’s that been thrown at you.”

  I shake my head. “All along I’ve had this fear that our wedding day would never come and now that it’s finally almost here there’s no way I’ll let Malentus or Avestan or any other dark guardian ruin it.”

  “Okay,” he says with a broad smile, “because in less than 36 hours’ time it will be here. I’ll spend the day today getting everything ready and we’ll have the rehearsal tonight and then tomorrow we do it.”

  “We do it?” I laugh. “You’re usually so eloquent.”

  “I think I’m actually nervous,” he says.

  I meet his eyes. “That’s sweet.”

  “I love you,” he says with a smile. “More than you know. You’re not the only one who feared this day would never come.”

  I stretch up to give him a kiss, basking in the way our energies weave and blend together. Then I rest my head on his warm, hard chest again and we lie in companionable silence for a long while until eventually I turn my head and look at the clock. “We should probably think about getting up soon,” I say without much conviction.

  He groans in protest. “I want to hold you a little while longer,” he says as he pulls me closer and kisses me softly.

  As I lie in the safety of Alexander’s arms, enjoying that familiar spark and the way our energy flows in blissful harmony, I’m almost able to believe that our wedding, and the birth of our baby, will both go forward without harm from dark guardians.

  If only I could escape the memory of Malentus’s cold, dead eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  My mom helps me lift the dress over my head one last time before the wedding tomorrow to make any final adjustments. She ties the string of the halter neckline at the back of my neck, exposing my bare shoulders, and secures the waist above my baby bump with the long built-in sash. The white, flowing sundress didn’t even require any hemming in the end. My baby bump rose it up in front and its slightly longer drape in back gently sweeps the ground as if it was planned that way all along. I turn and look in the mirror as my mom places the woven circlet of sparse white forget-me-nots over the long waves of my hair, slightly back, like a crown. The white, flowing lines of the dress, combined with the woven flower crown and the dewy glow of being eight months pregnant, all coalesce to furnish an effect of a blue-eyed fairy queen stepped straight from the forest. I imagine myself with Alexander tomorrow in our fairy ring of sweeping redwoods and I smile. With heart full to overflowing I meet my mom’s eyes in the mirror.

  “It’s perfect,” I say.

  My mom answers with tears in her eyes. “You look beautiful, Declan. So beautiful.”

  I turn around to hug her and she holds me tight and kisses me on the forehead. “I can’t believe my baby’s getting married,” she says.

  “And having a baby,” I add.

  “That, too,” she says. “You’ve had a busy year.”

  I laugh. “Too much?”

  She shakes her head. “Declan, I want you to know that I love Alexander and I see how happy he makes you. And I see how hard you’re working at school and how much you both love and want this baby. I couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’ve become or feel happier for the life you’re building together. And the fact that you’re wearing my wedding dress touches my heart more deeply than you’ll ever know. I know your dad will be watching tomorrow with as much love and happiness as I’ll be feeling.”

  I wipe the tears from my eyes and hug her again. “Thanks, mom,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

  The doorbell rings and we pause in our moment together. “That’s Liz,” I say. “She told me she’s coming over to see the dress.”

  I bound down the stairs (as quickly as any woman in her last month of pregnancy can bound down anything, which is actually pretty slowly, to be honest) and as I yank open the front door with a wide smile I say, “What do you think?”

  Only instead of Liz waiting for me on the doorstep, it’s Alexander.

  His expression is stunned as his eyes travel over me and his face softens with what I can only describe as a heart-melting expression of awe mixed with adoration. “I think you’re the most
beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he breathes as he meets my eyes.

  I smile and my eyes get watery because I know he means it—because in that moment, I can not only feel the string of light that connects our hearts together, I can almost see it, and it’s filling me with warmth and overwhelming love. “You’re not supposed to see the bride in her dress before the wedding,” I say quietly, almost shyly.

  “I don’t believe in superstitions,” he says with a smile.

  “I was going for the fairy queen look,” I say.

  He smiles, his green eyes crinkling in that irresistible way of his. “Mission accomplished.”

  I laugh.

  “You’re the most beautiful fairy queen there ever was,” he adds.

  “You really like it?”

  “Words cannot express how much I like it.”

  I smile. “Why do I feel shy right now?”

  “Because we’re getting married tomorrow and you’re in your wedding dress and you weren’t expecting to see me at the door.”

  “I thought you were Liz.”

  “I assumed,” he says with a smile. “But I love how you smiled when you realized it was me—the way you always smile when you see me. And the way your eyes light up, so blue and vivid, and gorgeous.”

  My smile grows. “I can’t help it. It’s how you make me feel.” My heart does somersaults when he’s around, what can I say? “But I thought you were getting things ready all day?”

  “I am. I’m heading over there now but I stopped by because I remembered I needed to do something first.”

  “What?”

  “This.” He steps forward and pulls me into his arms and kisses me, taking me by surprise. His lips are soft on mine at first and then more ardent as the kiss deepens. I thread my fingers in his hair as he holds me against him and then, all too soon, he steps back, leaving me breathless.