The Swords of an Angel: The Guardian's Fall Chronicles

by Urania Sarri

  “That’s enough punching for today,” he said and headed to the exercise mat.

  “Let’s do some pushups, Madison. Give me twenty.”

  I fell on the floor, balancing my weight on my hands and toes. One, two, three...

  “Straighten your back!” Jerome barked at me.

  ...four, five, “OUCH!” I collapsed on the mat. Jerome was on my side instantly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t move my leg.”

  Jerome’s eyes narrowed. “It’s probably a cramp. Lie back.”

  I had to comply. I couldn’t tell if it was the tone of his voice that invoked something inside my mind, leaving me no choice, or just the pain that was too sharp to play smart. Besides, a wicked part of me relished seeing him worried about me.

  Jerome took my shoe and sock off to stretch my leg and push my toes backward. I could feel the muscle on my calf start to loosen up.

  “Better?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

  I just nodded.

  Jerome started massaging my foot with slow moves, pressing on the right spots to make my muscles relax.

  “How’s that?” he asked.

  “That feels great,” I whispered.

  “I’m sorry. It’s probably my fault. I pushed you too hard,” he apologized, making me smile.

  “You seem to be taking this too personally.”

  “Madison, I could not care less about your grades. That should not be your motivation either.”

  “Like…” My train of thought was disrupted, and a low moan escaped my lips as Jerome brought his hands to my calf to massage my tense muscle. Too embarrassed, I bit my lip and regretted it right away when Jerome’s look shifted to my mouth.

  “You were saying?” he asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

  “Like I’m going to fight for my life,” I said.

  He looked back to my leg. “Eventually, you may have to. You must be prepared.”

  Ok, he was just being overdramatic. The only reason I suffered this torture called training program was that someone had imposed it on me. Fight for my life? Yeah, I’d been there. I’d fought for my life once, and it sucked. Part of me hoped I’d never have to do it again, but there was that other dark part that longed for it. The part that still wanted a career in the army. A life of fighting. Never to be afraid again.

  “Anyway, I don’t think it’s entirely your fault. It’s this darn diet I’m on. Blue’s idea.”

  “What did you have today?” Jerome asked putting my sock and shoe back.

  I shrugged. “Just fruit and yogurt.”

  “Let’s get you up.” He helped me up, a questioning look on his face.

  “It’s okay. Doesn’t hurt anymore. Thanks,” I said.

  “Just take it easy,” Jerome said, giving me a towel. I felt his stare on me as I wiped away the sweat from my forehead and shoulders, but his intense look no longer made me uncomfortable. My mouth twitched, realizing I had started to enjoy the way Jerome seemed to be studying me. What girl wouldn’t want a gorgeous, mysterious guy’s attention? Especially when that guy was the one girls used to call the dark demi-god, notorious for been frigid, remote and sullen the whole time like he was carrying the entire world on his shoulders. The same guy who was now staring at me like I was something precious.

  I put the towel around my neck grinning.

  Jerome arched a brow. “What’s so amusing?”

  “Oh!” I beamed. “I guess exercising got my endorphins going.”

  “That’s much better than your boxing mood,” he smirked.

  The memory of the punching bag incident was mysteriously fading by now; when I tried to unravel it, my mind seemed to be stuck at the same motto: “Let it go.” But I still felt its aftershocks, which translated into embarrassment from too much involuntary exposure.

  “Can we please forget about that? I don’t know what happened to me.”

  “I think you’re in the process of discovering yourself. And I love to be a part of it.”

  I squeezed the ball I’d made with the towel between my hands. “Do you really believe that?”

  Jerome’s face lit up and his mouth curled as he gave me an-almost-flirtatious look.

  “Girls like you are very rare in this world Madison StClaire,” he said. “I’d like to know what’s behind that reluctant fighter’s façade”.

  I watched him open a bottle of water and take a sip.

  “What if you don’t like what you find?” I asked.

  “I’m willing to take the risk,” he said and turned away. “Same time tomorrow?” he asked over his shoulder.

  I was there a little too early the next day. Jerome’s surprised expression lasted only for a brief moment. Then he told me that we were going jogging in the park.

  Forty-five minutes later we were catching our breath, stretching our legs against a wooden bench. Jerome had been quiet the whole time, and I wondered if he was back in sullen mode.

  “I’m glad we straightened things out yesterday,” I said.

  Jerome was still looking away.

  “I’m sorry I made you think I wanted to punch you,” I insisted.

  That attracted his attention. He looked confused. “Did I say that?”

  “Says the guy who told me to think of the punching bag as him! Why would you say such a thing?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Ok. I don’t, did not, like you. You’re right. But I think you have somehow grown on me.”

  Jerome smiled. “Funny. I could say that same thing about you. Can I just ask one thing? What is it that you don’t like about me?”

  “Well, it was more of an instinct. Sometimes you are weird.”

  That was the first time I heard him laugh. “No more weird then. I’ll race you to the gate when you’re ready,” he challenged me.

  “Wait,” I insisted “since we’re stuck together, I think we should start over.”

  Jerome chuckled. “Okay. Ask me anything you want to know as long as I get to ask you back.”

  “Deal. Hey, do you like Mexican? There’s a nice restaurant I like, Il Bandito?”

  His face turned naughty. “Are you asking me out Madison?”

  Bad idea, I thought. How pathetic I must have sounded.

  I tried playing casual. “Oh, I thought dinner would be a good idea to... Never mind. Forget I said that.”

  “It’s settled then. We have a date,” Jerome said. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

  I thought about it for a moment. Did I want Jerome to suffer Megan’s and Blue’s awkward staring and embarrassing questions?

  “No, it’s just a couple of blocks from my place. I’ll meet you there.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That I like Mexican food.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Jerome studied me for a long moment. “Ok. Ready?” he asked.

  “Always,” I said, but the tone of my voice was anything but convincing.

  I gave him a head start. What was the point? I was going to lose after all.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Breathe Me

  When Jerome had agreed to start over, he really meant it. Because the guy I was out with that night was no longer the sullen trainer, who made my hair stand on end.

  He walked me home after the wonderful, spicy dinner.

  It was late August and the night was still warm. It had taken a long debate with Megan, but my outfit had been the right choice; a pair of yellow shorts, a loose white blouse, and heels. I would go with my favorite sandals, had it been my choice.

  “Definitely heels!” Megan had insisted. “You have gorgeous legs. He won’t be able to take his eyes off them.”

  I’d let my long, strawberry-red hair loose over my arms and shoulders; I always felt safer under its thick cover.

  Jerome had passed Megan’s test with flying colors. He’d not taken his eyes off me the whole evening. He’d even touched me; light, featherlike
touches on my arms and hands. And when I offered him my glass of margarita strawberry -since he’d sloppily spilled his- pushing it to his side, his fingers intertwined mine, his thumb slightly stroking my hand.

  For some reason, Jerome made me feel really special being there with him. I didn’t mind people casting us curious, fleeting glances; well, women mostly. His unblemished, pale skin looked silky, making me want to feel its almost unreal smoothness. His obsidian eyes were lit by a golden circle around the pupils that magnetized my gaze. He was wearing a loose dark-blue shirt, the sleeves rolled to the level of his elbows, and worn-out jeans. No human could be more handsome and attractive. There was an invisible glowing aura around him that made people’s heads turn to stare at him. What I found more astonishing was that, in a strange way, I felt like I glowed along with him. Like an inner charisma, some kind of charming radiance that emanated from his heart to encircle everyone near him in a magnificent grace. Funny I hadn’t noticed that before. Of course, it could be just the double tequila shots that made me see lights.

  Jerome was definitely not a man of words. He walked next to me silently, but I wouldn’t like it any other way; just the two of us under the starry sky, the sound of my heels on the pebbled pavement breaking the silence of the night.

  When he took my hand in his, I felt my heart pound. I could no longer remember why I’d avoided him for so long. At that thought, a chuckle slipped out.

  “What’s so funny?” Jerome asked.

  I smiled bashfully. “It’s just strange. We used to avoid each other. And yet, here we are.”

  “On a date,” he said.

  “The girls thought you were too gorgeous to be...” The word stuck behind my lips, “…available. They even did research on you.”

  The edge of his mouth curled in a faint smile. “So, how about you? Do you find me too gorgeous?” He stopped walking and turned to face me, expecting an answer.

  I felt my heart skip a beat, losing myself for a moment into the darkness of his eyes. “That’s my place,” I changed the subject awkwardly. “Up there.” I pointed to the third floor.

  “I know.” Jerome’s eyes never left mine, and the butterflies in my stomach had never felt more alive. He was still holding my hand, my skin burnt where he touched.

  “So, thanks for dinner. Blue will kill me if she finds out I cheated. We’re diet buddies. I was supposed to have only salad and chicken.”

  “Those chicken burritos were hard to resist. But your secret is safe with me,” he smiled, subtly releasing my hand.

  “I’d rather go.” I was stalling. I knew it, and he knew it too. My mouth grew dry and I licked my lips drawing Jerome’s gaze to my mouth.

  Silence had never been more awkward.

  It was Jerome who broke it first.

  “Are your friends home yet?” He glanced upwards.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, nervously rummaging my purse for my keys. I wasn’t ready to call it a night.

  I surprised myself when I turned to ask him, “Would you like to… come upstairs?”

  Jerome held on to my gaze. “Sure,” he said.

  I blinked at the familiar prickling feeling at the back of my head.

  “Actually, we had a break-in the other day. We found the front door wide open, and the whole place was messed up. I’d feel better if I didn’t have to go up there by myself.”

  I watched Jerome’s face frown as he turned abruptly towards the steps that led to the entrance of Brassington Guesthouse.

  “I’ll go first,” he said, and the magic was gone.

  In the elevator, I couldn’t help staring at his image in the mirror. Under the white light, Jerome’s skin looked pale, contrasting with the dark blue of his shirt. His lips had lost their color too, a dull pink, like he was under the weather. And what was that with the dark circles under his eyes? How come I hadn’t noticed before? I was about to ask him if he was feeling all right when the elevator door opened.

  I followed him inside and threw my purse on the coffee table.

  “Do you want me to take a look around, just to make sure?” Jerome asked.

  “Be my guest. Shall I fix you a drink?” I asked, but Jerome had already vanished.

  “Water will be fine,” he said from somewhere in the bedroom.

  Turning around, I almost crashed into hard, warm, chest muscles. Didn’t he just speak to me from the bedroom?

  “Wow! You’re really fast!”

  Jerome’s puzzled face was my only answer, so I thought I’d better drop it.

  “Anyway, did you find anything interesting?”

  He was standing so close; I could not breathe normally. Putting some distance between us, I headed for the kitchen.

  “Everything seems fine... apart from the unbelievable mess in that room,” he nodded somewhere behind me.

  “That should be Blue. She’s notorious for rejecting order and tidiness.”

  I got back to the living room with two glasses of water and left his on the coffee table. Sitting on the daybed, I took a sip.

  “Mmm, I needed that,” I said. “That margarita was too much for me and the shots... My head is already spinning.”

  Jerome sat next to me. His hand on the back of the daybed, he turned to look at me.

  “It was deliberate you know. The sullen thing. The unavailable thing. Pretty much, everything. I meant to make that impression.”

  Eyes all widened up, I said “I don’t believe you. Why would you do that?”

  “I had to,” he shrugged. “I prefer privacy. Broken hearts are not my thing.”

  I should have been shocked by his openness, but oddly, I wasn’t. I wondered what the aftermath of our date would be. Was I ready to have my heart broken?

  “I see. Commitment issues then.” I shrugged. “It doesn’t always lead to heartbreak, you know. Wait, you don’t want to even hook up with a girl? Isn’t that what guys usually want?”

  “I wouldn’t say I don’t; rather… I didn’t.” Jerome looked into my eyes with anticipation, and I felt a wave of heat overwhelm me. I didn’t have to look at myself in the mirror to see that my face was flustered.

  “So, things have changed?”

  “Only recently.” He moved closer. “So, are you sure about this?”

  “About what?”

  “About us, you and me. Here. Why am I here Madison?”

  Feeling awkward under his intense gaze, I leaned forward to put my glass on the table. The familiar prickling sense at the back of my head came back stronger than ever. Sitting up again, I felt his hand in my hair, twirling my curls around his finger.

  “To… check out the place?” I said bashfully, feeling my cheeks warm up with every beat of my heart.

  “Right. And also, you.”

  “Me? You want to check out on me?” I chewed my bottom lip nervously.

  Jerome’s eyes lingered on my lips once again. “Hmm. I’ve been testing your abilities for days. I can’t make you out yet. It bothers me how you still insist on ignoring the danger. You let me in so easily, you let me take a look around the apartment.”

  His words confused me, instantly wiping the flirtatious smile off my face.

  “Because ... I ...know you?” I whispered.

  His eyes met mine, and I was certain I saw a spark in their darkness. The liquid gold circle in them seemed enlarged.

  “Are you sure you know me? Let’s see. We’ve known each other for a few weeks, and within this time we’ve only met at the gym.”

  His voice sounded deep and no longer playful, making me want to stand up and distance myself from him. Instead, I just sat there, feeling a familiar weird pull coming from him.

  “Okay. I have no idea what you’re trying to do here,” I whispered, feeling like I was losing control of my body.

  “What if I wanted something from you? What if I was something else?” he asked.

  I fought the pull for a second, finding the strength to move slightly away from him. The weird feeling that I had be
en there before hit me like a vicious wave of wistful knowledge. It instantly eluded me, as fast as it had struck me. It was like I was trying to reassemble the fragments of a dream, but every time I put a piece in its place, the rest of them scattered in my mind. And what remained was fear. And longing.

  “Something else?” I attempted a joke. “Like a perv? A serial killer? Or, you mean something like a vampire?” I wanted to chuckle, but I only managed a choking groan. “I’d be in serious trouble then, wouldn’t I?”

  Jerome moved again, closing in on the distance between us. “My point exactly.”

  I somehow felt slightly released by his grip and managed to sit up, trying to compose myself, this time chuckling nervously.

  “What are you exactly? Because I need all of my blood.”

  Jerome stared curiously as I moved. He was assessing me. Strategizing. I tensed when his fingers played with the tips of my curls again.

  “Sweetheart, stop fighting it. And you know, it’s not your blood I’m interested in, don’t you?”

  “It isn’t?” I forgot why I wanted to laugh. Suddenly, things had got pretty serious, although I could not exactly be certain when or how it had all started. One thing I could tell for sure; there was something lurking in the darkness of his eyes. They gleamed with desire and I couldn’t remember if they had always been so dark; the iris so enlarged, their gold so mesmerizing.

  “No.”

  Had he just spoken to me? Did he just say no? Or was this in my mind only? Because I didn’t see his lips move.

  “But there is something you want from me?” I whispered, feeling a weird numbness crawling upwards, from my toes to my legs and my chest until I was certain I could feel every single hair on my head rise.

  “You bet.” His gaze fell on my lips once again. “And you should be more than willing to give me exactly what I need.”

  My breath caught, and I tried to shake my head.

  “You look scared.” His finger ran a trail on my chin only to come back again and stop at a spot right below my bottom lip. “But it’s too late now. I’m about to get what I want from you.”

  Somehow, he held my gaze, and my eyes had started to hurt because I had forgotten to blink. No, wait! I couldn’t blink. Not without a huge effort. When I did, I took a deep breath and then closed my eyes to shove away the prickling sensation.