Protector

by Joanne Wadsworth

  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, feeling content 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 large 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. Glancing left and right, she dashed across the road as a gap opened in the traffic.

  I waited as she jogged up my front steps toward me. “Hey, Belle. I think I may actually miss you and your interfering butt after today.” I gave her a quick hug, one I recognized as perhaps our last.

  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 fifteen minutes.”

  As promised, I was back, grinning as I heard Silvie’s beastie coming down the road. One couldn’t miss her car before they saw it–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.

  Around the corner came her racy, gas guzzler. Repainted in arctic white, the tiny two-door model rumbled to a fast halt. She opened her car door, hopped out in her short floral skirt and yellow top and folded her arms across the top of her driver’s side roof. She pulled her sunglasses to the tip of her nose and peered over the top of them, toward me, then toward 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 peered 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.” She wiped her brow as she settled. “I’m not going to miss these rides.”

  “Sure you will.” I chuckled. “Now, something wicked, hmm.”

  She sighed. “Right. 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 comes when you’ll least expect it.”

  That was hardly 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–and 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 managed. 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.”

  “Why 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, swerving in with unnecessary force. “Gotta love these old RX7’s.”

  “You still alive back there?” I turned to check on Belle.

  Silvie cut the car’s engine as she 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 to bound 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 as I realized I harbored some of the same feeling for Davio–for why else was I so curious about his family, his country. Sure, there was a need within me to find proof Peacio was real, to reason out the emotional rollercoaster ride I was on, but in a way I missed him. The dratted emotion stirred, 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 our front door. I stumbled over the uneven path, wiping at my cheek. 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.

  “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, and his nostrils flared. “Damn it,” he swore, “we’ll have to pick this up another time. Carlisio’s been forewarned.”

  “How do you know me? And 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, Faith. I will not 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, finding the familiar pattern in the stitching and figuring I was on my bed.

  “No.” That someone, an unknown man, answered her. “There’s no evidence and nothing to track 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, stunned as I heard yet another man’s low growl in response to that information. I tensed. Then every drop of blood in my body heated, beginning to boil, followed by a shimmer of pain.

  Oh boy. There it was–that internal reaction to the one man I’d been thinking constantly of for the past night and two days. He was close–too close. Still, I couldn’t help myself and even with a leadened head, my mind reached for his, linking and merging to find relief from the pain.

  “Davio?” I murmured his name groggily, now needing to physically touch him.

  So wrong.

  I heard a fast rustle across the room.

  “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, releasing 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?” Now that had to be said. It didn’t make any sense, but the only relief I found from the discomfort was to touch him or be more than five feet apart.

  In frustration, I rubbed the side of my head which had taken the impact of the baton’s brutal blow, expecting to find a solid, full-sized lump. There was nothing–even the ache I’d woken up with had receded. “Okay, do I fast-heal or something?” Because what other possible scenario 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. “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?”

  Davio’s honey-gold hair fell forward over his wide brow as his gaze heated. “I did. I had to come. Carlisio was forewarned about the danger to you. He could not 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. There was equal determination reflected in his.

  It gave me the strength I needed. “Don’t leave again–like you did before.” The words easily slipped out. Then I said it 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, causing my gaze to ping over Davio’s shoulder to her. There I saw Belle with a soft smile of relief on her face.

  Only they weren’t the only ones present. Beyond them were the other two I’d first heard. A woman with dark brown hair who stood to the side of the window, her face half cast in shadow as she scanned the section toward the road front. She was fully armed, a nasty looking blade hooked into her belt on her right. She appeared battle ready, her tight leather vest secured with straps over a ruffled white shirt and inky skintight pants. Wearing knee-high, black leather boots, she was ready for some serious action.

  “That’s Viv, one of my best protectors,” Davio offered as he watched my gaze wander. “Over by the door is Zac, another of our best.”

  My heart stopped. Zac was huge, a tall, broad-shouldered man whose body rippled with lean muscle. A fighting machine with his sword clasped between both hands and resting point down to the carpeted ground. He was dressed similarly to Viv in dark leathers, but half his chest was bare where his white shirt remained loose and free. />
  I gulped and swung back to stare at Davio. Now that I was focused, I saw he was dressed in a similar fashion with dark leathers and a white shirt fluttering underneath a finely made sleeveless leather half-coat. My mate appeared to have stepped out of an ageless time, his attire nothing like the teenage clothing he’d worn the day before.

  “Well,” I said, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m very glad I didn’t see you like this yesterday.” One look at his combat leathers would have made me freak.

  He withdrew his sword, sliding it out of the weighty scabbard belted low on his hips.

  “Hey, hold on.” I scuttled back, actually cracking my head on the white painted headboard behind me. “Whoa.” I held up a placating hand as I rubbed my twice-beaten scalp.

  “Would everyone leave the room? It seems it is necessary for me to speak to my mate. Privately.” His deep gaze was determined.

  “Ah, is that a wise idea?” A rush of air left my body at the way he slowly propped his sword beside my headboard.

  “It is when you are all I’ve thought about this past day–when I’ve been so unsure whether I could’ve ever kept my word and stayed away. The bond builds fast, and even I have not been able to dismiss it.”

  The others filed out, the door gently clicking shut behind them as the man who was my soul-bound mate continued, “As is the way with mates, I need to be close to you, to see to your welfare and quite obviously your protection.”

  He paused, his large hands gripping my waist as he lifted me. Seating himself, he set me onto his lap. “Although I cannot and will not shirk my duties. Not even for you, or for any other. Carlisio has a large country to govern, and he cannot do so alone. My father aids him and for the past year I have too.”

  “Um…okay?” I was on his lap? It felt strangely right, yet odd. Touching a finger to his bristly jaw, I offered him a slight smile. “Sure, you aid your father, grandfather and your country. Except don’t forget me in the vast scheme of things.”