It was a weird, wacky and very long day.
Chapter 3
I woke with my brain fuzzy from the fantasy dream I’d had the night before, one which still gently floated around and kept me snuggly happy. Well, that was until I realized said dream was of one infuriating man named Davio Loveria.
Abruptly I dissolved that dream and bolted upright.
I grumbled and shuffled on my bottom toward the headboard. Leaning back, I caught the chirpy sound of a Tui bird outside in the native Pohutakawa tree. At a guess, he had wished me a good morning.
I zeroed in on the Tui bird’s pretty call and turned up my receptors to a more satisfactory level. Simultaneously, I turned down the volume of passing traffic, not to mention blocking out my mother’s atrocious singing from her adjoining bathroom. Now there was a bonus.
Ah, sublime.
Perfect.
Only the pretty Tui bird’s trill left to fill the silence.
Finally, a more fulfilling start to the day.
Especially considering yesterday.
Oh boy, yesterday. Now there was a slice of reality.
Davio Loveria.
Nope, I wasn’t going to think about him.
Not worth it.
In fact, I would forcibly thrust him and his dratted recurring image from my mind.
Yeah, that’s better.
There’s precisely no need to go back there.
He was gone and so soon would Belle be away.
That was the way it should be. Pesky, Peacian people, be gone.
With that thought predominantly in my mind, and as the Tui bird launched from the branch and flew, I pushed back the covers and dropped my feet over the side of the bed and onto the cream carpet. Time to begin my day.
Eagerly, I dressed in a blue stretch t-shirt and shorts so I could go for my regular morning run before school, a run that had become important since my birthday last week. A need that must have something to do with my increased speed.
Racing through to my mother’s beloved kitchen, I skidded on the hardwood flooring. I yanked open the white refrigerator door and grabbed a strawberry yogurt and a glass of water.
I made my way down the hallway and tapped on my mother’s bathroom door. Mum’s rendition of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” came to a sudden halt at my insistent knocking. “Hey, Mum, I’m taking a run,” I yelled through the closed door.
“Be careful.”
“Will do.”
I cringed as Lady Gaga’s song resumed in all Mum’s vocal disharmony. Best I leave now.
I took Centennial Park Drive, my sneakers clipping across the pavement as I made the gravel entrance. The early morning sunshine beamed through the treetops, and I glanced left and right before checking my pace and slowing down my sprint so I appeared more like a normal morning jogger. None of this speeding along like a freak.
I half-smirked, half-groaned at the thought, because I really was a freak.
Perhaps I should start a support group of other half-Magiolings. Surely, there were other bizarre by-products like me who’d had an ill-behaved parent who’d spread around unknown DNA as mine had.
Not such a farfetched idea.
One I couldn’t help but consider when it seemed I couldn’t get a certain man and his country from rolling around in my scrambled mind.
Two, three-mile circuits later, I pounded around the bend and back to my front door. I wiped my sweaty brow, contentment rolling through me as I stretched my muscles. Across the road, Belle exited her house. Three months ago, she, alone, had moved into the street’s newest residence, a six-bedroom, L-shaped home. It had been how she’d remained close to me.
Locking the front slider door, she strung her school bag over one shoulder and briskly headed my way. She wore skinny black jeans and a red t-shirt. Once she’d checked for traffic, she dashed across the road.
“Hey, Belle.” I hugged her as she joined me. “I think I may actually miss you and your interfering butt after today.”
She gave me her sweetest smile. “Well, I’m sure not going to miss you and your colossal temper.”
I laughed. “C’mon, let me just get changed for school. I won’t be more than five minutes.”
As promised, I was back in five and grinned as a rumbling roar echoed down the road. Silvie’s beastie turned the corner, it’s disturbing and throaty loud engine manufactured somewhere in the late eighties.
But it was such a cute, sporty Mazda RX7, relic that it was.
In her racy, gas guzzler repainted in arctic white, she brought the tiny two-door model to a fast halt by the curb. She opened her car door, hopped out in her short floral skirt and yellow top, folded her arms across the top of her driver’s side roof and pulled her sunglasses to the tip of her nose. Peering over the top of them, she eyed first me then Belle. “Well, hop in, girls. This beauty of a car waits for no woman.”
I laughed as I shook my head at her.
Silvie gave me an all-knowing eye and impatiently tapped her fingertips on the top of the car’s pristine roof. “I know you’re internally cussing my car again, Faith Stryker. But it gets us around so stop pussy-footing around and bend yourself in.”
My grin widened. “I like your car. It’s loud and proud just like you are.”
She muttered under her breath as I flipped the lever and the front seat slid forward. “In you go, Belle. The cubbyhole in the back’s all yours.” I squeezed into my front seat and cast her a glance over my shoulder. “So, I have very little time left to quiz you. Why don’t you tell me something interesting about the king’s forethought, something naughty,” I said with a grin.
With no warning, Silvie squealed out into the traffic. A horn tooted, and Belle gasped as she checked our rear.
“It’s okay, we’re all good.” Belle wiped her brow as she settled back in her seat. “I’m not going to miss these rides, just in case you wanted to know that, Silvie.”
“Sure you will.” I chuckled. “Now, you’ve gotten sidetracked. Tell me something wicked about your king.”
“Nothing wicked to report.” She frowned. “Although you should know that forethought and forewarning are highly sought after skills. Eventually you will be able to focus on someone you know and get an image of what they’re doing, or in the same vein, a visual forewarning when something damaging is about to occur. Your forethought is controlled by you, but your forewarning is not. Forewarning will always come when you least expect it, or at least that’s the way it is for Carlisio.”
Yep, definitely not wicked. It seemed there was no dislodging her loyalty and certainly not when she spoke of her king. Which meant I should take her words more seriously. I was driven to try, because ultimately, the evidence was stacking up. I couldn’t deny our telepathic link or my ability to read projected thoughts when I was in the same room as someone. Then there was Davio’s sudden disappearance into thin air. Sure, I wasn’t convinced on Magio, but if I could work on pressing my forethought and eventually bring forth a visual of his country, perhaps…
“Okay, detail these images for me.”
“King Carlisio’s forethought appears as one would see a snapshot. Images can be from the present or memories returned from the past, or with forewarning, images of an event yet to occur.”
I thumbed my chin, recalling the wavering, illusionary image of Davio from yesterday I’d brought forth after my tumble into Mum’s garden. My forethought was developing, but how did I press it harder? “I need more proof.”
“You want evidence?” Belle’s eyes twinkled. “That’ll come soon. Forethought, just like any other skill, is one that develops with practice as it grows into full strength as you reach your rising. So, by all means you should be actively applying yourself to your skill. In fact, King Carlisio reported that his father controlled a much stronger version. The old king could see more than just an image—he monitored a rolling feed of shots more similar to that of an actual event playing out like on one of your televisions.”
“W
hy is Carlisio’s forethought not as strong as his father’s?” I crooked my head. She’d said yesterday that higher skilled offspring resulted from mated matches, so that might mean... “Oh, Carlisio’s parents were not soul-bound.”
She nodded. “Yes, and in his case his ability is not at full strength, although the gene carries forward and it will certainly return to its peak in future generations.”
“Ah, I understand.” I fidgeted. “So explain to me how I can see Peacio.”
Silvie’s car screamed through the gates of the student car lot, her fast turn catching me off-guard. “Nice one,” I groaned, grasping my head before it hit the window. I wasn’t sure what was worse at times—her atrocious driving or her throaty car.
She laughed as she found a nice parking space, swerved in with unnecessary force and hauled up the brake. “Gotta love these old RX7’s.”
“You still alive back there?” I turned and checked on Belle.
Silvie cut the car’s engine and snatched out the key. “Hey, what do you mean is Belle all right? There’s never any thanks around here.”
“Ow, let me out of here,” Belle demanded as she pressed the spring lever and bounded out after me. “No offense, Silvie, but I’m more than happy to get out of the back of your terror-ride.” She flicked her wealth of brown hair over one shoulder and fixed a smile in place. “You’ll be fine once I’m gone, Faith. We have our telepathic connection, remember?”
I scuffed my shoe over the gravel, hating to think I’d actually miss her. My gut churned, tossing into an awful mess. Since Davio had left, my curiosity about him, his family and his country had assaulted me. Sure, there was a need within me to find even more proof Peacio was real, to reason out the emotional rollercoaster ride I was on, but in a way I missed him. The dratted emotion kept stirring, one I had no intention of giving into.
My reality troubled me. Even my mind ached, as if somehow disconnected.
What was with that?
Could one mate feel starved of the other’s presence without their wanting it? I shuddered at the thought.
Time to move on.
And it did.
By that afternoon, Belle had gone. Sorrell had taken her away, and I’d watched as she’d shimmered and disappeared so quickly with the large male protector who’d been sent to collect her. Again, another sign Peacio was real—and they were adding up more than I could tear them down.
Even now, I was only partway home and feeling completely moody and seriously lost. Silvie had stayed after school for drama practice—as if she wasn’t dramatic enough—and now having no one to pester me was more than a little disturbing.
I kicked at a loose pebble, scuttling it across the path onto the grass as my traitorous mind moved back to Davio.
Always to Davio. Drat him.
How had it been so easy for him to go?
Then there was that moment he’d touched me and now never again.
I blew out a breath, wanting to shake my despair off. Nothing peeved me more than allowing any form of weakness.
Storming down the driveway, I winced as I caught my bag on the spiky gate left unlatched near the road front. I stumbled down the uneven path, wiping my cheeks. Oh hell, I couldn’t believe I was now crying.
“I would watch your step if I were you.”
My head jolted up as I slammed to a stop.
I inhaled slowly, turning fractionally.
A man.
A stranger.
He had short, light colored hair and was dressed in a night-shaded silk shirt and pressed pants, a thick black leather coat flapping heavily to the ground.
The way he stood, his legs braced wide, his gaze narrowed, brought me to full alert.
Then he moved, twirling around me in the blink of an eye. “Pay attention, Faith.”
I would if his speed wasn’t inhuman. “Do I know you?”
“No,” he stated simply, sharply.
I searched his gaze, shocked to find myself staring into violet eyes. My violet eyes. “Whoa, okay, who are you?”
The stranger circled me again, the intensity surrounding him as thick and as heavy as the dark trench coat which beat against his legs in the breeze. He crossed his large arms and growled, “I am a warrior, one who is warning you to steer clear of Peacio’s protectors. I’ve seen you with them.” His order was arrogant, and far too demanding for my liking.
“Ah—” I drew in a deep breath, making myself find some words. “I don’t have much to do with them any longer.”
He flipped a hand at me. “They are our natural born enemy.” His collar blew up against his thick neck as he spoke, making him appear more than menacing.
“Meaning?”
He speared me with a dark look before looking over his shoulder, his nostrils flaring. “Damn it,” he swore. “We’ll have to pick this up another time. Carlisio’s been forewarned.”
“How do you know me? Who are—” I broke off mid-sentence as he raised a heavy baton.
For just a moment, he appeared anguished. “It must be this way. You will not forget me, Faith. I won’t allow it.”
My head spun, a swirl of gray clouding my vision for a brief moment. Or was it longer? I couldn’t tell.
“No, please, there’s no need to hurt me.” I blinked, stumbling backwards, hands up in instant defense. I was too slow.
My thoughts tangled in a jumbled mess as he brought the weapon down directly over my head.
I slumped heavily to the ground, wanting to hit out at him, but my head splintered with pain and then nothing.
* * * *
Silvie’s voice bounced within my fuzzy head. “Did you find anyone or even any sign of anyone?” she asked in a strained tone.
My brows pinched together as I tried to lift my heavy eyelids. Gingerly, I patted the comforter underneath me and found the familiar pattern in the stitching. My covers, which meant my bed.
“No.” That someone, an unknown man, answered her. “There’s no evidence and nothing to track him from where we found your friend lying, either. Clearly, whoever it was teleported to that exact spot and then left the same way.”
“It had to have been the warrior from Carlisio’s forewarning, Zac,” a female hissed, interrupting the male. “What do you feel, Belle?”
Belle was here? Besides her and Silvie, who were the others?
“There were no residual emotions in the air. I can’t give you any additional intel, Viv. I’m sorry.” Okay, that was Belle all right, so who were Zac and Viv?
I scraped one eye open as yet another man’s low growl in response to that answer rumbled around my bedroom. I tensed, then every drop of blood in my body heated and boiled, followed by a shimmer of pain.
Oh boy. That internal reaction to the one man I’d been thinking constantly of for the past night and two days had returned. He must be close—too close. Still, I couldn’t help myself and even with a leadened head, my mind reached out for his. I linked and merged, settled down in that soft spot which was most definitely all mine. Relief rolled through me.
“Davio?” Groggily, I patted the air, needing to physically touch him as well. So wrong. “Come here.”
A fast rustle.
“I’m here.” The bed beside me dipped.
I pushed my eyelids open the rest of the way just as his hand smoothed over my forehead. I sank into the mattress and released a soft sigh. Oh, skin-to-skin contact was so soothing—like I’d been wrapped in my favorite blanket and tucked into bed by the most caring of hands.
Then I jerked.
“Why is there pain when we don’t touch?” It didn’t make any sense, but the only relief I ever found from the discomfort came when we touched, or he remained more than five feet distant.
Frustrated, I rubbed the side of my head which had taken the impact of the baton’s brutal blow. I expected to find a solid, full-sized lump, only there was nothing—even the ache I’d woken up with had receded. “Okay, do I fast-heal or something?” Because what other possible scena
rio could explain this?
“Yes, you do. The wound and subsequent bruising is almost gone. You healed within the first twenty minutes you were down.”
“I’ve been out for twenty minutes?” I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again. “That’s not good.”
His gaze captured mine. “No, and it’s unacceptable that someone harmed you.”
I cleared my throat and edged closer toward him, detesting that I sought more of his comfort. “Okay, how come you’re back? Didn’t you decide we weren’t going to reacquaint ourselves with each other, like ever again?”
“I did.” Davio’s honey-gold hair fell forward over his wide brow as his gaze heated. “I had to come. Carlisio was forewarned about the danger to you. He couldn’t get a complete fix because your attacker used the cloaking strength skill. Do you recall who approached you? Who knocked you out?”
My heart raced, and not from his multiple questions but from the way his hand cupped my shoulder. His touch caused a whole other kind of friction. A friction I was becoming fast fixated with. I stared at his lean fingers. There was only him. He made me feel strangely safe and protected by physically tying me to him. Him!
At no other time in my entire life had a man had that impact on me. Just being surrounded by him somehow soothed me. The reality hit me hard, the truth of my thoughts astounding. For some reason—or for every reason—I no longer felt so lost and alone.
He was back. My soul-bound mate was back.
I couldn’t fathom being here without him, and with more certainty than I thought possible.
“Davio,” I murmured as I stared straight into his deep-set gaze. Equal determination reflected back in his own. That determination gave me the strength I needed. “Don’t leave me again—not like you did before on the field at school.” The words slipped out, so easily, so right. Then I spoke my mind again, the second time with striking force. “If we’re mated, we should be together. Belle said I could make such a stand and I am.” I stood up for my rights, giving him no further choice.
Silvie gasped from across the room. Next to her, Belle smiled softly, relief evident to see on her face. Only they weren’t the only ones present.
Protector: A Young Adult / New Adult Fantasy Novel Page 4
