Her Fallen Protector

by Nichole Severn

  The dock creaked and protested under their feet as they disembarked. Even with a much smaller search area than the mainland, Simeulue stretched sixty-two miles across the Pacific. From the sun’s position in the sky, they had little light left to search. Most of the islanders would be returning to their homes for the night, leaving them stranded.

  “Do we just start asking people?” She surveyed the men and women carting fish and shrimp to the shore, her tense muscles and stone-like expression in perfect contrast to the island’s inhabitants. “I don’t speak Indonesian.”

  He studied the passing individuals, picked out a few as possible targets. “We don’t have much time left. It’s our only option.”

  “Okay, then we split up. I’ll start with the women.”

  He gripped her hand tighter before she turned away. Connecting with her gaze, he leaned down, covered her mouth with his. She opened for him, but he cut the kiss short. “Be careful. The Deceiver won’t be far behind. They’re most likely following to steal the Seal out from under us.”

  Her mouth parted, and his gut clenched tight. “I will. Meet you back here in an hour. Okay?”

  Her fingers slipped from his, the tingling in his hand reverberating as she walked across the beach. On more than one occasion, he’d watched her walk away, hair blowing in the breeze as it did now. Those times he’d known she’d come back. Now, he couldn’t be sure, with the enemy so close behind.

  “Ikan. Ikan.” A fisherman presented him with a gutted trout. The smell of the carcass assaulted his senses, cleared her from his lungs.

  He shook his head, pushed the offer away kindly. “Tidak. Thank you. English?”

  “Yes. Yes. English,” the older man said with a thick accent, his eyes permanently narrowed from long hours on the sea. Shorter than Jacob, he stared up at him with a wide smile. “You looking for something.”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “Everyone looking for something.” The fisherman stuck a finger into Jacob’s chest. “You looking for ring. I help.”

  Air rushed from his lungs. He narrowed his gaze, studied the man before him. Was that a hint of demon he caught on the wind or just the fish? “How do you know that?”

  “My son tell me angel come look for ring.” Turning his back on Jacob, the older man shuffled across the sand, motioning him to follow him toward the dock. “You angel. I see you in dream. Come. You listen.”

  He scoured the beach for Vdarra, spotting her mere yards away in no time flat. Standing out in jeans and a T-shirt, she used her hands to speak just as she’d done in Rio, overcoming the language barrier. “Can I bring my friend?”

  “She not your friend. She not who she seem.” Half way up the dock, the fisherman stepped onto the deck of a ratty old boat without further argument. Painted gray, blue, and a withered white, the boat rocked to one side then leveled out. Chunks of wood splintered off the hull, only decrepit plywood constructing the fisherman’s quarters, no doubt where he lived full time.

  He trekked to the dock, kicking up sand and shells along the beach. Another round of protest called from the wood beneath his feet, his boots echoing loud as he closed in on the boat. One last glance toward Vdarra let him know she hadn’t vanished. He couldn’t be too careful, not with so many eyes watching.

  Fishing equipment littered the boat’s deck. The smell of brine coated the back of his throat as he stepped aboard. The boat rocked gently back and forth as the fisherman hobbled to a worn, rusted tackle box in the corner.

  Opening the box, the older man removed something wrapped in cloth and straightened. He handed Jacob the package with care. Bowing slightly, the fisherman motioned for him to open it.

  Freeing the item from the rough fabric, he handled the metal frame with a torn and faded picture inside.

  “My son.”

  He studied the photo closely then offered the frame back to its owner. “He’s a handsome young man.”

  A withered finger tapped the frame, dirt and sand coating the cracking fingernail. “He find your ring before he die.”

  His chest expanded on a deep inhale and he studied the picture once more. “When?”

  “One year after big earthquake. He receive message from God. Tell him where to find ring and to hide it.”

  “I need to know where he hid it. It’s important.” Finally. The base of his skull tingled, his instincts on full alert. His mouth turned up into an overwhelming smile. He called toward the shore. “Vdarra!”

  Her head snapped in his direction. Bowing to the woman she’d been talking to, she jogged down the dock, her footsteps heavy on the planks. “Did you find something?”

  “She no allowed! She evil. I feel here.” The fisherman tapped the center of his chest. He stepped to the edge of the boat. “She no allowed to find ring.”

  No. He couldn’t lose this lead. “She’s not evil. Please, just tell us where—”

  “No! I warn you about her and you no listen. Go now.” Wrenching the photo frame from Jacob’s hand, the older man scowled. “Go now. Off boat.”

  Seeing no other option, he stepped off the boat onto the dock. “I hope you’ll reconsider.”

  The fisherman didn’t answer, merely stared down at the photo in his hand as he ran his thumb over the face on the dilapidated paper.

  He wound his fingers around Vdarra’s arm and tugged. As they reached the end of the dock, he explained what the old man had said.

  “A message from God?” she asked.

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Maybe if we find the son, we can ask him ourselves.”

  He shook his head. “He’s dead. The fisherman is our only lead and I’ve somehow just killed it by associating with you.”

  “Oh.” Hurt, and something else he didn’t recognize, flashed across her face. Shame? Regret? The normally bright life in her eyes dimmed. “I’m sure we’ll find another way. What other choice do we have?”

  He agreed. Wholeheartedly. Because the sooner they found the Seal, the sooner they could move on. “We’ll have to stay close to the boat. No telling whether Isabel or the Deceiver was watching just now, and we can’t risk them getting their hands on the old man. It’ll be dark soon. Let’s find a place to rest for the night.”

  …

  The house they’d negotiated to stay in wasn’t much, but met the requirements of a roof and a bed.

  “Is he still watching us?” Exhausted from the day’s travel, Vdarra sank blissfully onto the mattress and watched the way the moonlight played off the sharp planes of Jacob’s face.

  “Yeah, he knows we’re here.” He closed the shutters, dropped his chin to his chest. “I don’t know what else to do. He’s our only lead to finding that damn ring.”

  She swung her legs over the bed and stood. Her bare feet hit the floorboards with soft steps as she closed the distance between them. The crash of waves echoed from the shore just a few hundred feet away. The sea-scented air brought Rio to the front of her mind. She stroked her palms up his chest, felt the beat of his heart beneath her hands. Strong. Constant. Just like him. “You know we’re in deep when you’re the one doubting. Need a distraction?”

  “More than you’ll ever know.” He set his hands on her hips, nudged her to turn. Solid muscle held her against him, his hips rolling into her. His arms encircled her from behind as his lips rested against her shoulder. Warm tendrils of his breath trickled under her shirt and she shivered in anticipation. The darkened room didn’t give her a clue as to what he’d do next, but it didn’t matter. They were together.

  Heavy in his arms, she rested back against him completely, giving him further access to her neck. Slowly, his fingertips grazed the skin just above her jeans, pushing her arousal higher. She’d never felt so safe, so secure, and never so desperate. For him. Nothing in her life made her body feel alive the way he did. How could she ever let him go?

  Unbuttoning her jeans, he slid his hand lower as he ground his pelvis into her from behind. She laid her head back against
his shoulder, reveling in the rough and firm feel of him. He hovered over the place she wanted him to touch the most, and she couldn’t wait any longer. Arching her back, she pressed herself into his hand and gasped at the electricity shooting through her limbs at his soft touch. He tormented her slowly. First, by barely scratching her itch for him, then second, by giving her exactly what she wanted then removing his touch altogether.

  “Please,” she whispered, completely out of breath.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  The air in her lungs caught. She closed her eyes as his fingertips worked her again.

  “Tell me you love me and that we’ll always be together.” Kissing his way from her ear to her shoulder, he nipped at her skin lightly.

  A pleasurable tingle in her lower abdomen boiled over and she pushed against his hand harder. “Yes.” She moaned. “Harder.”

  “Tell me.” He bit her shoulder then spun her toward him by the hips.

  A shadow over his shoulder crowded the now open door.

  “Jacob.” Adrenaline cleared her senses.

  Pulling his hand from her jeans, he maneuvered her behind him. Moonlight highlighted the flat blade of steel in their visitor’s hand. A knife.

  “You are evil. Ring safe if you die.” The fisherman’s voice came out husky.

  “You’re wrong.” She shook her head as if he might be able to see her behind her protector. “I’m not who you think I am. Please—”

  “Demons lie. In their nature. And I know you, demon. I see who you really are.” Raising the blade hip high, he lunged.

  “No!” Panic overtook every instinct and sense in her body. She jerked Jacob to the right and dove to the floor. She hit the floorboards hard. The knife made contact with the wall, but the elderly man was faster than she thought possible. Hiking one leg over her hips, he sank down on top of her, blade at her throat.

  A growl ripped through the overwhelming sound of her panting. Jacob stalked forward, ready to do what he did best.

  “No, don’t move. This is between him and me.”

  With the blade still in hand, the fisherman leaned down, his face inches away. The odor of fish and sea replaced the cinnamon she’d been drowning in seconds ago. Trapped between the fisherman and the floor, she had no escape. Over the last five days, she’d been kidnapped, injected with demon blood, and told she’d destroy the world if given the chance, but this man scared her more. Conviction coated his movements, specifically the grip on his knife, and she had no idea how to fight.

  “You don’t have to do this,” she said. “We can work this out.”

  “You wrong.” Her attacker pressed the blade harder against her skin. “You no remember me, but I know you. You kill my parents.”

  Her mouth worked to ask how that was possible, but the answer came in a single tear sliding down the fisherman’s withered cheek.

  Duemos.

  “That’s not me. I’ve never been to Indonesia.” The blade stung across her skin. Just a prick. Enough moonlight seeped through the curtained windows to reveal his plan. The fear slithering into her limbs slowly fled her body, giving her the ability to think more clearly.

  “I twelve when you come in the night. I supposed to be asleep, but Mother screamed.” The pale light illuminated his face. The wrinkles she’d noted earlier were somehow deeper, filled with pain. Anger. “When I come in, you kill my father too, but you no see me. I hide under table.”

  The scene played out in her mind easily enough. Just as a small movie plays in the mind when reading a book, the images filled in the blanks of his tale, but with one difference: she’d lived in this movie. As her vision unfocused, she remembered the feel of the woman’s neck beneath her hands, the smear of blood on her arm after the father fought back unsuccessfully. They’d had no chance of survival. Not against the heiress to her father’s dark throne.

  The fisherman held the knife over her head, ready to attack. She spared a glance in Jacob’s direction.

  His eyes widened, mouth dropping open. “Vdarra—”

  She dodged the downward swing of the blade and bucked the fisherman off her hips. In a single breath, she bolted to her feet. Her attacker went down on both knees, the knife clattering to the floor.

  Breathing heavy, she picked up the blade and lowered onto her haunches in front of him. The dried wood of the handle scraped against her skin. She ran her thumb over the edge of the knife. Blunt. A fisherman’s knife. Her heart pounded nearly out of control. It wouldn’t take skill or speed. Not for a man at his age. Her fingers constricted around the blade’s handle as a raw hunger scratched up her throat. He’d keep coming after her, and the darkness she’d tried to ignore urged her to finish the job for her own safety.

  “Kill quickly.” He raised his chin as if challenging her, keeping his dignity.

  “No.” She studied the knife and traced her index finger over the nicks and imperfections. Gripping the blade by the point, she offered it back to him.

  The fisherman’s mouth opened slightly, his watery gaze meeting hers. He stared at the knife for a series of breaths then slowly rose to take it. Wrapping his fingers around the handle, he contorted his features into painful sorrow. “Why you kill parents, but not me?”

  “I told you. I’m not her.” Something in his eyes said he wouldn’t attack her again. She let him get to his feet on his own, not knowing if her compassion for the man who tried to kill her would win in the end. Duemos wouldn’t have let him live, but she wasn’t a demon. She wasn’t a murderer. “Go home.”

  The fisherman hobbled toward the door he’d come through, but stopped midpoint. Facing her, he regarded her with obvious confusion. “What you want with ring?”

  “To save the world.” There, the truth. Evidence she wasn’t what everyone believed her to be.

  The fisherman remained silent, studying her for a moment more. The pressure of his attention lightened as he took a single step toward her, but she held her ground, hands fisted at her sides. His expression blank, resigned, he motioned both her and Jacob toward the bed to sit. “Then I tell you where my son hide it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The great west doors of the cathedral loomed before them like a bronze testament to man’s sin. She’d never seen such beautiful artwork before, depicting so many different religious symbols in one place. They pulsed with history. She skimmed over the illustrations, trained her gaze on the scenes of the Apocalypse. Four horsemen, ready for battle, would bring a divine end upon the world as harbingers of the Last Judgment. Each symbolized a different element: Famine, War, Pestilence and finally, Death.

  “Are you ready?” Jacob asked.

  She pulled her attention away from the historic work of art, forcing to the back of her mind the need to compare the face of one horseman to the man at her side. “No, but let’s just get this over with.”

  The hum in her body increased as she stepped through the door he held open for her. Warmth radiated from his pores, filling her with comfort, giving her the push she needed to step through the doorway. A chill pooled at the base of her neck once she’d entered the empty cathedral completely, and it only ebbed by wrapping her hand in his.

  “I’m not going to burn up by being in here, am I?” She threw him a smile as her words echoed in the vast chapel, but, distracted, he didn’t respond. Following his gaze, she took in the vastness of the space and exhaled sharply.

  She ran a cold hand over her arm in an attempt to calm the goose bumps forming along her skin and turned her attention to the massive columns on either side. Stretching well over one hundred feet high, they pressed upon her, threatening to crumble with each step she took. Exquisite arches danced overhead and suddenly, Vdarra regretted stepping through the door. Such a beautiful place for evil to reside.

  “What do you feel?” he asked.

  “Like I’m going to fall to pieces if I don’t find this thing soon.” Tracing a column with her fingertips, she followed it to the ceiling with her eyes. The coarse gray ma
terial resonated a pulse back into her hand as the darkness taking control of her body burned with awareness. She ripped her hand away, her stomach sinking. How were they going to search every inch of this place with just her instinct to lead them? “It’s like the whole cathedral is vibrating at my touch and it’s getting stronger. Not really focused on any one place though. This place is huge. I don’t know how we’re going to find—”

  “You’re on the right track. You just need to focus.” He squeezed her hand a bit tighter and her heart backflipped in her rib cage. “We don’t have much time before they find us. I know you can do this.”

  A wave of calm stole over her limbs as her gaze connected with his. She inhaled slowly, sucking down his spicy scent as well as his confidence in her. The buzz of power emanated from every corner of the cathedral, nearly drowning out his voice.

  “Focus.”

  Trying to make sense of each and every vibration, she blew out a breath. “I don’t know how. There’s too much swarming around in my head.”

  “Yes, you do. If there was something you wanted enough, you found a way to get it.” He stepped into her, framed his hands around her face. The warmth from his palms relaxed her enough to close her eyes, but tears stung at the corners.

  She’d promised herself to Sorren if they didn’t find the Seal, and the possibility of never seeing Jacob again, of never feeling his touch like this, made her want to say the hell with it all. The Deceiver couldn’t control the army without the Seal or her. They could run, hide from Sorren and her father for the rest of their lives. They could be happy as a pair of mortals with Afterlife pasts.

  But how long could they hide from the world’s evil and the Father’s general? Would they even have a chance?

  No.

  “I’m not Duemos.” She held his gaze, falling into his green eyes in an attempt to memorize him all over again. If she had to rot in a prison for the rest of her life for crimes she couldn’t remember committing, she sure has hell would keep him with her for survival, if only in her mind. “There’s too much going on in here, like white noise or static. I can’t do this alone.”