Protector

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Protector Page 2

by Joanne Wadsworth


  I quirked a suspicious brow and retaliated. Because you to live to pester me.

  Easy answer.

  I’m afraid the girl was on her way to being institutionalized. There was no hope for her. Not now.

  No, she fired right back at me. Because you are too valuable to be left unattended. You need protection.

  I blew out a harsh breath, right in her face, remembering just at the last second to keep my voice down. For the millionth, billionth, zillionth time, I am growing very weary of all this Peacio crap. Would she never give up?

  That was when her declaration caught up to me. Surprised, my jaw landed somewhere down in my lap. Now why would she feel the need to protect me? And protect me against what?

  Okay, it seemed I was actually going to go there. Exactly what are you protecting me from?

  A heavy mental sigh. You can read thoughts, a skill that develops into forethought, and depending on how strong it is it cannot be permitted to go under the radar. I’m a protector. Once your forethought develops, you will need me by your side to instruct you.

  Belle was so matter of fact about everything she said. For a brief moment, I felt the first fluttering of belief. Then it cemented, making me groan out loud. Unbelievably my mind told me there was truth in what she said. For the first time.

  I exhaled, hating myself for what I was about to ask and for those first stirrings of bewitching belief. I want to meet with Davio Loveria. I want to hear from the newcomer–who was now sitting in his assigned seat at the front of the class–what he has to say without any interference from you. Yeah, that forethought was either developing as she’d said, or was now sending me completely loony.

  Belle’s lips lifted, and she answered with speed. Excellent. Would now be an appropriate time?

  I observed the princely hunk’s side profile, gathering my strength. After class. Lunchtime. On the field. I needed another forty-five minutes to fortify myself. You, me and him.

  * * * *

  It was the beginning of spring, the first week of September, and I’d chosen an isolated spot under a large, yellow-green umbrella leaf tree on the outskirts of the school’s grassy area. Belle waited with me where the sunlight dappled through the loose formation of foliage and warmed the ground. I clutched my backpack over one shoulder and hooked a finger into the belt loop of my snug blue denim mini skirt in an effort to gain some confidence.

  Belle rubbed her palms down her short, scarlet cotton dress and stepped forward to greet Davio as he crossed the lawn.

  Peering around her, I held a hand to my chest. The man still looked completely edible, those blue jeans sitting low on his hips and making me drool for a bite.

  “Welcome, Davio.” Belle turned and introduced me with her right hand swinging in a wide gesture. “This is Miss Faith Stryker.”

  Oh so polite.

  Davio clasped Belle’s arm, his narrowed gaze boring into mine. “Thank you, Belle. So this is the one Carlisio says has forethought?” He stood there, his bearing firm and his hand far too intimate on Belle’s upper arm.

  Like I shouldn’t have noticed.

  Only now I frowned, my mind distracted by the cozy image they made. Exactly how well did these two know each other?

  I ground my teeth together, lifted my chin and stepped forward. “Yes, I’m the one who has forethought.”

  Damn. Now I was irritated. Excessively so.

  “How do I know you’re who Belle says you are?” With speed, I siphoned through the newcomer’s thoughts using what Belle kept referring to as my burgeoning forethought, hoping to find this was an elaborate and totally explainable ruse.

  Davio released her arm and stepped closer. “I can’t believe this,” he said as he touched a hand to his forehead. “I can feel you in my mind.” He immediately blocked, the same as Belle was able to do.

  Now there was nothing.

  I gave him a cocky grin, and he damn well returned it, seriously peeving me further. “So, I guess I have to believe you’re the grandson of Peacio’s supposed king. David is it?”

  One masculine brow quirked. “Davio, not David, but yes, I’m Carlisio’s sole grandson. Who is your father?”

  I glared at him. “At present I don’t know and quite frankly, I’ve never cared.” I didn’t either. I had the world’s most fabulous mother, one who’d provided all I’d ever needed in life. While the man who’d irresponsibly provided the other half of my genes to give me that life had never stayed to even say one simple hello.

  Davio crossed his arms, frowning as he drew one-step closer. “Father aside, let’s concentrate on what you’re doing right now. You are lodged within my mind–” He stopped, shook his head as if clearing it, then took another decided step forward. “There’s a warmth, like a merging or a similar form of alternate connection, I’ve never experienced before. What is it you’re doing?”

  No sooner had he said the words then I dropped the merge he’d noted.

  Bad move. “Ow.” I grabbed my head as my mind demanded to return to his. What the… I jerked, holding out one hand to halt his sudden advancement. “Stay right there, bucko.”

  A sharp stinging pain took me as he bore down on me. “No. Stop.” I clutched at my chest, gasping.

  More pain. And Davio’s presence, without a doubt, caused it.

  Against my wishes my mind arrowed, piercing back into his and clashing with a brutal strength that made me stagger. I fell against him, grabbing at his arm, the contact somehow ceasing the pain and my turbulent emotions all at once.

  What was going on?

  I took a moment, breathing deep, feeling the warmth within his mind.

  My reaction to him couldn’t have amazed me more. “You can feel my mind-merge?” I asked, making certain.

  He nodded briskly. “You’re in my head. I can feel your presence. But be aware, you will not get a single thought from me since I’m now blocked.”

  That was clearly a set down, putting me in my place.

  I gritted my teeth and dropped my hand, glaring as I stepped back. Now, deep inside, I wanted to strike out at him. How dare he? “I wasn’t intending to pry. This is all new to me, too, you know.” I found my voice, defending myself.

  Annoyance coursed through me.

  It seemed I did not like this man one itty, little bit, hot eyes and hot body included.

  He glowered, circling me, his gaze slanting as his enormous body threatened. “Now, aren’t you a pesky little enigma.”

  I curled my fingers inward. “So my mother constantly says, Prince Davio.”

  He came back around to stand in front. “It’s Davio. Just Davio.”

  My gut clenched further, but I held my tongue, waiting to see what he would do.

  “Apart from this skill of mind-merge, you know what I believe is happening between us.”

  “Well, not if you don’t share it.”

  “You and I are bonded,” he said with a hard, defiant tone.

  “I’m sorry, we’re what?” Surprise had my brows soaring.

  “No, not what, Faith Stryker. We’re bonded, and that’s a how.” Then he reared over me, almost toppling me as I moved away from him.

  “Hey,” I growled, slamming a hand into him. “Attempting to intimidate me will get you nowhere.”

  He peered into my eyes. “We’re somehow bonded, one to the other. Although how that could be is beyond my knowledge with you being of Earth. I demand to know who your parents are and how you came to have forethought.”

  Okay, his question was completely insane, and what the heck did he mean by bonded? I pulled on every one of my reserves. “First, I’ve always lived on Earth. Second, I have only my mother, who I might add has outdone herself in raising me.”

  “And your father? Where exactly is he?”

  I forced my gaze to hold his. “I do not know, nor do I care.” My chest tightened, and not because I spoke of my father, but because of Davio’s presence.

  Rocking back on his heels, his gaze was sharp. “Father asid
e, I feel the deep tension between us. It’s too physical.”

  I shrugged, not wanting him this near, the strain only increasing as each second passed. “I’ve decided I don’t want to meet you after all. Let’s forget this past morning ever happened and you can wing your way back to your lovely little planet of Magio.”

  “I don’t understand.” Belle came forward, her lips pinched. “Surely, this is impossible. You two simply can’t be mated. It can’t be. She’s a Halfling.”

  I gave her a glare. “I said let’s forget everything. Take him away.”

  Her hands trembled as she pushed them through her dark hair. “I can’t. I can’t interfere in a mated relationship. It is a soul-bound calling, one fixed between the two of you.” Her wide gaze begged understanding. “You have to understand. Only half of our population are mated once they come into their adult strength skills at eighteen. The male always senses the bond after he makes direct contact with his female. This is what has happened. It seems you are mated to our prince.”

  So this was real–which meant I was likely in a world of trouble. “Okay, so we’re mated,” I said the words, glaring at Davio as I let them sink in.

  He snagged my hand. “You are not one of my people.”

  I waited a moment, tortured at his tight hold and at seeing the scowl on his face. “Then quit touching me.” I pulled my hand free. “If you can’t tell, I don’t care for it.”

  He winced, the first sign that he wasn’t anything other than mad. “I will try. I can see you need some space.” He stepped away, propping his back against the wide trunk of the umbrella tree. Now given the opportunity, I scooted back, too.

  Then it happened.

  Five feet distance and a strange calmness descended over me. I breathed out the last of my tension and closed my eyes.

  Belle was there in my head, making herself, once again, at home. Ooo-kay. You need to tell me exactly what’s going on with you? First and foremost, I’m your friend.

  I ignored her, feeling a touch bad, and my eyes opened to see Davio. His thoughts were loud and clear as he eyed me blatantly in return.

  Random thoughts escaped him. He found the light blond of my hair captivating, the fine strands catching the sunlight sparkling through the leaves and making the golden color glow like woven silk.

  I grimaced.

  Next, he looked at my eyes, noticing the unusual violet, although a color he found incredibly intriguing.

  “Stop it,” I demanded, crossing my arms with a slap as they came together.

  “Reading my thoughts will only get you into trouble.” He tilted his chin, his body straightening as he pushed off the tree.

  I sneered. “Well, you were sharing. It’s a little hard to miss what was coming from your over-active imagination when it was directed at me.” Damn it. Now he neared. I hated that every time he came so close, I turned aggressive. “Stay there.”

  My blustery warning was loud and clear, but he didn’t break stride. “I can’t stop myself. It’s this stupid, stubborn bond. Finding my mate should never have been like this. It obviously shouldn’t have been with a Halfling and someone not of my world.”

  “Amen to that,” I grumbled as he ruthlessly closed in.

  I threw up a hand against his oncoming assault and tried to halt him. Too late.

  My palm hit his chest, his momentum driving me back several steps. Oh boy. I flushed as my aggression instantly dissolved. So strange–when he touched me, the hard emotions promptly disappeared.

  Davio leaned over me, all six foot four of him, his warm honey-brown hair falling forward to curl snugly around his neck, and I longed for him, just as I had during my first sighting of him in the classroom.

  “What’s happening is the bond, my mate. It will become difficult for me to keep my distance both physically and emotionally unless I leave and end this now.”

  My heart hitched. “You want to leave?” I swayed closer on impulse. “Is that how this bond works? We find each other and then you leave?” God preserve his people if it did.

  “No, it is not. Those mated are bonded for life if we allow the link to grow. Except that would be the most unwise choice for us to take. You are, quite clearly, neither from my country nor from my world, and as such will have no allegiance to me or my people. I have no wish to join with one who does not wish to join with me in all ways. With that being the case, I will find another when the time is right. As should you,” he added solemnly.

  I frowned. Hold on–did he just say he would be joining with another woman?

  I bit my tongue. That was good? I should leave it at that, right?

  Jeez, what was wrong with me for questioning that choice?

  “I’m sorry. We just met, and you’re right. Go find your, your–” Strangely, I struggled to get the words out and finally gave up. “Well, have yourself a nice long life, and all that.” I patted his chest roughly.

  That was more like me.

  The clock ticked and time slowed.

  He didn’t move.

  “Look at me.” He tipped up my chin, directly staring at me. “This would never work.”

  “I understand. It’s been pretty awful meeting you too.” I tried to pull my mind from his but found I couldn’t, that I actually detested the thought of letting go.

  Perhaps I’d try physically first. I leaned back, only to feel the pressure of his hand move around my waist to the small of my back, preventing me.

  I moved to grip his arm. “Okay, you were going.”

  This was going to be the world’s fastest breakup–no, non-breakup since we hadn’t even been together. “Let go of me so that can happen.”

  Ultimately, the man was right. Neither of us needed the complication of the other in our life. I didn’t want a bonded relationship, not when I had high school to finish and university on my horizon.

  Releasing me, he clipped his heels together and inclined his head. “Belle will remain another day, and even though she told me you two have a telepathic connection, you should take the opportunity to learn more about your growing skills while she’s here. Afterward, Carlisio will keep an eye on you, and Belle can return as necessary.”

  My brow furrowed as a heavy pressure once again pulsed through my blood. “Sure.” And what was with this mounting strain again? At least when he’d been touching me, skin-to-skin, it had dispersed.

  I inched closer, closing my fingers around his arm, the necessary and instant relief palpable. I did not understand this need, even as I tentatively spread my fingers wider. I blew out a breath, needing at least one answer. “Did Carlisio’s forethought not tell him all that would transpire today? Is this not how the skill works?”

  “No, any visions he has are mere snapshots and not greatly identifiable. The future is fully changeable as my grandfather does not interfere in this way. One must have free choice.”

  I nodded my head in acceptance. “Good.” I glanced at Belle. “I guess Carlisio thought it was right to send her?”

  “Yes.” His gaze switched to her. “I will send Sorrell to retrieve you tomorrow.” Without warning, he took my hand from his arm and lifted my fingers to his lips, his turbulent gaze returning to mine. “Take peace in the fact that what is between us would never work. We simply don’t belong together.” His tone, deep and flawless, was filled with firm decision.

  Then he released me and shimmered, his form becoming transparent as he disappeared from my sight.

  I tumbled to the ground, sinking my fingers deep into the cold grass underneath me. The air tasted stale, as if in that very moment he’d taken whatever fresh scent was there and sucked it away with him.

  “He’s gone?” Astonishment and a definite spasm of pained grief shook me. “It hurts.” Now that shouldn’t have happened.

  Belle scooted in beside me, grasping my shoulder. “You wish him back?”

  “No-ooo.” I shook my head, knowing at least that much. “Don’t get me wrong, but your prince made his choice, and I won’t even consi
der swaying his mind. He is far better back where he belongs, as are you.”

  I had Silvie.

  My mother, too.

  In fact, men had never been a constant in my life, starting right from my defective father who I’d never known, and now Davio who couldn’t have left quicker if I’d been the one to push him away.

  I mean, who needed men anyway?

  I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them tightly. Ultimately, Silvie and my mother were the only people in the world who mattered to me. They would be right by my side. Always by my side.

  Chapter 2

  Centennial Park consisted of miles of green trees and gardens with a ten-foot wide, meandering blacktop drive. It was unlike any other park I’d seen. The common ground followed a leisurely path, weaving snakelike in and about the town’s communal roads, circuitously tracing a route between schools and homes, extending to new sub-divisions as they advanced toward the furthest reaches of the town. Its design was fashioned to unite and deliver a safe pathway for cyclists, runners and schoolchildren, with the park’s aged trees providing natural coverage against the elements.

  I jogged, my backpack strapped to my back and my PE gear of navy shorts and a white t-shirt and sneakers still on from last period. I caught up to and passed primary school students walking home. Their home-time bell rang almost a half hour before ours, and I saw fellow classmates catching up to their younger siblings and joining them in chattering groups.

  It was just Mum and me, and there were occasional times when I felt a real craving to share my life with a sibling and that’s where Silvie fit in. She was my best friend, she was my sister, the one I’d been raised with since childhood. Baby photos showed her, with her cute red-gold curls, and me with my pale skin and tufts of blond hair just starting to grow, had been playing together, forever.

  I smiled at the thought and picked up my pace, fairly flying home. Entering my street, I streamed along at speed, my long hair whipping behind me like a full-blown sail.

  For some reason I couldn’t stop.

  Oh boy. What was happening now?

  I screamed as I almost took out my mother’s newly painted gray mailbox, having no idea my speed had gotten so out of control. I freaked and locked my knees, the abrupt change and natural gravity sending me hurtling head over feet where I skidded across the slippery grass on my backside. Crap! Before me, my mother’s newly composted vegetable garden came into view. Still I tumbled, groaning as I rolled headfirst into the ripest, stinkiest soil on the road.

 

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