“Tree’s root,” Kaelen murmurs. “So they died.”
“By the millions,” I assure him. “Some say it was the cause of the violence that plagued Europe just as much through the rest of the Middle Ages and even up through the Renaissance.”
“How so?”
I rub my hands together, trying to recall what I could from my time in college history. Luckily for me, I had a teacher who liked the nasty stuff, probably as a way of showing his students that while the Para Wars were bad, humanity had come through worse, self-inflicted, disasters.
“So many people died, the survivors just sort of got numb to the idea of death,” I tell Kaelen as I try to get a further read on where we are and what we might be here for. “They took on this sort of fatalistic view that death was just around the corner anyway, so you might as well share that reward with the asshole next door if he made your few remaining days left on Earth miserable. There’s some who say it’s indirectly responsible for the wars and other inhumanity that festered on until modern times.”
“Madness,” Kaelen whispers. “And do you think . . . could this be his doing?”
I shrug, looking around some more. A man moves across the square, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him being followed by a pair of young men. “Hold that thought. Follow me.”
We hurry across the square toward the man moving diagonally from us, and as I get closer, I’m struck numb as I see the slender build, blond hair, and intelligent youthful face of my most romantic Guardian. “Tyler?”
The man stops, looking at me in outright surprise and fear. When he speaks, his voice is accented but still clear. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
This version of Tyler has beautiful blue eyes, but the chin and face are the same, and I see the pair of youths following him pause. “Uhm, I guess not,” I reply. “You remind me of someone . . . very special to me.”
“I see. Did you lose him to the Death?” the man who looks like Tyler says. “By the way, my name is David.”
“Eve,” I answer, “and this is Kaelen. No . . . this someone is just far away and I haven’t seen him in awhile. You triggered nostalgia for me.”
David glances over his shoulder, where he sees the two youths still nearby, glowering looks on their faces. “I understand. If you are strangers to Cologne, may I offer my hospitality? My mother and father would be happy to have visitors.”
I can read his eyes, and I nod, smiling. “Of course. It would be nice to learn about the city from a native. We are here on . . . trading purposes.”
“Not much of that going on, but I’m sure it is still needed,” David says as we head down a baked-dirt side street. “The Death is taking so many. The Christians are swearing it is Divine retribution.”
“You are not . . . ?”
David shakes his head, his eyes flaring in worry that he’s already said too much. I nod, and we keep quiet until we reach a small house in a crowded neighborhood. There’s still death here, but it seems less severe, and I see more people on the narrow streets as David brings us into a home. “Mama, Papa! I have visitors!”
An older woman, at least by this time period, emerges from the back, her face lined with worry. “David, where have you been? I told you that it was dangerous—”
“Mama, I had to get some food,” David says, opening his coat and pulling out a cloth bag. “Here, enough for dinner, at least.”
Mama nods, sighing. “Agreed. Your father will be back soon with some bread. So you have friends? Welcome, it is kind of you to join us.”
“It is kind of you to have us, madam,” Kaelen says. He reaches into his tunic and from somewhere produces a purse. “If we may contribute to our costs for the meal?”
“Put your money away. Despite what the Christians say about us, we are not money grubbers,” Mama says, sighing at the harshness of her words when she’s done. “Apologies, sir. It is always hard being one of His chosen people.”
“I . . . I see,” Kaelen says, obviously not. It doesn’t matter. Mama takes the vegetables and goes toward the back of the tiny house while David removes himself to the back. As soon as we’re alone, Kaelen turns to me. “What’s going on?”
“They’re Jewish,” I explain, wishing Kaelen knew a bit more about human religions and less about our propensity for violence. For all I know, his views on humanity’s major religions is nothing more than as names for the various hordes that inflicted death upon one another. In this instance, though, he may be right. “During the Black Death, they were often blamed for the death rates because Jews tended to survive more often.”
“Why?” Kaelen asks.
“They wash more than the Christians,” I explain in a hushed tone. “Religious rules require them to wash their hands before eating, and their burial rites require a body to be washed. It’s not perfect, but—”
“But it helped,” he whispers.
“Now we need to figure out why we’re here,” I agree with a nod. “Why we got sent to this time, this place.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I feel it inside me. There’s a reason we came here. We just have to figure out why.”
Kaelen looks like he’s about to argue, but before he can, Tyler . . . I mean, David . . . comes back in. “Would you like to break bread with us?”
“I’d be honored,” I reply. “So tell me, David. Are you a trader?”
“I’m a doctor, actually,” David replies, shocking me again. Of course, someone who has a connection to Tyler would be a doctor. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a poet who loves oral sex too. “I was out this morning seeing patients. There isn’t much I can do for many of them, but I try.”
Suddenly, the front door opens and a scared-looking man comes in. “Son! They’re coming!”
David’s face changes from worry to absolute fear as his father slams the door shut, turning toward us. “To the back!”
“What’s going on?” Kaelen asks as a muted cry comes from out front. “What is it?”
“A pogrom,” I growl as we run to the back of the house. Behind the tiny house is an even smaller yard with a few pathetic-looking chickens in the back along with an open-air stove. David’s mother is already there, and the five of us huddle, fearful as the noise rises before falling. David listens for a moment before sighing, his voice coming out in a long rush. “Are we safe?”
“As we can be,” he whispers. “I apologize. It has been better over the past few days. I didn’t think . . . I’m sorry.”
I reach for him, taking his hand to pull him in for a hug before remembering this isn’t my Tyler but his doppelganger. “It’s okay. How long has this been going on?”
“Whenever the Christians have the strength, they blame us,” David’s father groans. “The local prince, he encourages it.”
“How?” Kaelen asks. “Are you not citizens of the kingdom?”
“Oh, we’re citizens of Cologne, all right, but his Highness the Emperor declared that any debts owed to a dead man are null and void unless it is to the crown. Of course, since Jews and the Crown are the only ones allowed to lend . . .”
I shiver, shaking my head. “Debt forgiveness.”
David nods. “And many in Cologne are in debt. The city was growing so quickly before the Black Death. They borrowed foolishly, trusting that their future economic expansion would satisfy the terms of their contracts. None of them predicted the Death.”
“You need to get out of here,” I declare, looking at them. “It isn’t safe here.”
“It is safe nowhere,” David’s father declares. “Despite the worthless words the Pope wrote his supposedly loyal followers, they inflict violence upon us everywhere. Where would we go?”
I think and shiver at the answer I know is only a sadly temporary solution. But five hundred years is a long temporary solution. “The Poles. Poland will welcome you with open arms.”
“The Poles?” David’s father asks disdainfully. “They’re barely civilized!”
“Then they c
ould use a good dose of the old culture, yes?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow. “Besides, it has to be better than here.”
David’s father studies me for a moment before cracking a smile. “Are you one of us?”
“And if I am?” I ask, not willing to offend these people to say that after the past few months, I’m not sure just exactly what I believe in.
“I know a young man who could use a pretty girl like you,” he says, looking at his son. “He’s lazy and spends too much time in his books, but he’s a decent man.”
I look at David, who’s blushing and giving me looks that remind me so much of Tyler when he was attracted to me but we hadn’t touched for the first time. “I’m sure he is. First, though, we need to get out of town. Tonight.”
The next few hours pass tensely as we wait for night to fall. The family doesn’t have much, although David’s father does produce a little purse of coins that he ties to a belt around his waist. “We need something to start a new life.”
“I understand fully,” I assure him, looking at David. “Your skills will be useful no matter where you go. Can I give you a hint?”
“Of course,” David says in that way that tells me that regardless of how cool he’s trying to play it on the outside, he’s attracted to me too. So much like Tyler.
“The rats. If you want to stop the Death, invest in good rat catchers. And bathe,” I tell him, and David nods like he’s not surprised. “You know?”
“I suspected as much. The first deaths were in the dirtiest districts, not the poorest like other diseases. Merchants, ships, sailors . . . then it spread through the poor. Except us. And I wondered why.”
We head out, but before we’re halfway down the narrow street, a glowing red line of torches is visible coming our way. “What . . .”
David’s father sighs with a desolation that tells me he’s given up. “Another mob. With torches this time.”
The chants are ugly, vicious slander that blend into a roar of sickened rage. I see the first faces, their cheeks streaked with smoke and dirt, and I have to wonder if it’s also the plague already affecting their noses and lips. If not, they might actually survive a bit better. All the heat from the torches and the riot’s going to chase a lot of fleas off their bodies.
“Run!” David yells, pushing me and Kaelen down the nearest alley. “Turn right!”
“What about—” I ask, but David’s turned and charged the crowd, trying to distract them while his mother follows us. David’s father is caught, unable to decide if he wants to escape with his wife or protect her with his son, and the scream he makes as we run echoes, haunting me.
I turn right like David says, tears running down my face as I think about what’s happened to him, and the night begins to glow redder and redder. The alley comes out on another street, but the crowd’s already there, and as they hurl their torches into the nearest buildings, the smoke thickens.
David’s mother collapses, the smoke or age causing her body to fail, and I look at Kaelen, who’s white-faced with fear. “What do we do?”
I think of David, of my Tyler, who’d so quickly and foolishly sacrifice his life for me, and my decision is easy. “We die with honor,” I tell him. “And hope the Moonstone takes us back and that we remember the lessons we saw here.”
“What les—” he says behind me, but I’m already charging toward the smoke and flames, aiming—I hope—for the crowd.
I keep looking for traces of green, of the Dark Rider, but as the smoke and the flames grow to a deadly intensity, all I see are the very human faces of my very human killers.
Chapter 20
Eve
The light flashes, and suddenly, instead of being back in the Moonstone Chamber, I’m floating in a blue-white space. I look around for Kaelen, but he’s nowhere to be seen, and wherever I am, I’m alone.
Not alone.
The voice is there but not there, and while it freaks me out to have another voice in my head, there’s something about it that’s different from when the Dark Rider was in my head.
“Who are you?”
There is no need to be concerned.
Well, that’s helpful.
“Why am I here?” I ask as I stop looking around. It’s not like all that movement helps me anyway. The view’s the same no matter what.
To learn.
The light around me flashes, and I see myself as a little girl. This isn’t like before, where I was active in the scene. It’s more like watching a movie. I remember this scene too. It was about a year after ‘Lyssa and I went to the orphanage.
The Para Wars were at their darkest times then, and everyone was freaked out. Of course, war is good for business, and the lights of our window sills glowed the purplish of UV lamps, although as weak as the orphanage’s were, the worst a Vamp might get would be a sunburn.
I’m sleeping, ‘Lyssa next to me in bed after the staff finally relented and let us share a bed just to stop her hysterics at night when the older kids sneak in. They’re not worried about the staff. They’re most likely sleeping in the office downstairs. They’re worried about me. I’ve already caught them twice before and made them pay for what they’re going to try.
This time, though, I’m just too tired, and the blanket’s over me and ‘Lyssa before I know what’s happening. I struggle, but the two kids holding the blanket down are able to keep me pinned while the older kids steal my shoes and half of my clothes. At the end, one of them smashes me with a soap in a sock, a warning not to say anything to the staff before they flee back to their room.
The light flashes, and I’m back in the light. “Yeah, and?”
The light flashes again, and this time, I’m in college, working nights and barely scraping by since I need to put a roof over our heads. I’m doing my late-night shift cleaning up at a pizza restaurant halfway between our apartment and campus when the guy comes in, the cheap little revolver in his hand to rob the joint. Not a Vamp, not a Shifter, just a desperate man who wanted cash and didn’t have a job.
Another flash, and I’m with ‘Lyssa, going through the Police Academy while she’s in high school, her sobbing as she tells me about the way the other kids treated her because she has to wear government handout clothing and eat government cheese sandwiches. Two thousand kids, at least a third of them on some form of assistance . . . but ‘Lyssa is the one who gets the attention.
I shouldn’t have been taking care of her. She wasn’t eighteen, but with the system overloaded in the aftermath of the Para Wars, they needed beds for kids with no family at all. I shouldn’t have had to be a mother to a teenager when I was barely out of my teens myself, but I held her, loved her as best I could, and told her that we’d get through this.
The flashes come faster and faster, and I’m transported through a trip of my life. I see moments of pain and of loss, then with a large flash I see the night that my Guardians entered my life. My heart fills with warm tingles as I see them, looking at me in that alley with amusement, confusion, and shock at what they’ve discovered, and me looking far from my best, considering I had Blood Boy’s remains all over me.
Another flash, and we’re on the trail, on the run from Lysette. Nothing’s really happening. We’re just gathering the firewood for the night, and it’s just Jacob and me.
“Jacob?”
“Yes, Princess?” he asks as he stoops to pick up a branch. “Something on your mind?”
“Well, you’ve lived in both realms more than anyone. Did it scare you when you came to live here in the Fae realm full-time?”
Jacob stops, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Of course. It was different for me than it is for you, obviously, but yes, I was scared. When I left there were a lot of wonders in the Fae realm that I’d only heard of from my parents. I mean, I’d lived in a mud and wattle hut most of my life until then. I knew more sheep than people, and no, not in that way.”
I laugh quietly. Always Jacob, always ready to bring it back to the safe space of sex. “So, what
scared you?”
“Well, let’s see . . . the big bloody dragon that flew by the farm soon after we returned was a bad one,” Jacob admits before growing more serious. This is the Jacob I like best, when I’m not just being teased and titillated by him, but shown the wisdom at his core. He’s been a weary, lonely warrior for centuries, and when I see him like this, I know that I’m seeing a Jacob that nobody else does. “Really, though, culture shock, mostly. It must be even worse for you. At least I could appreciate being cleaner.”
I nod, shivering a little. “Jacob, all of this—”
Jacob drops the wood in his hands and comes over, hugging me. He’s nowhere near as big as Noah or Cole, so he can’t swallow me in a massive embrace or even tuck his chin on top of my head. But in his compact muscular arms and warm skin, I feel a unique comfort. He’s been so many things, but because of that, he’s unique among my Guardians. He’s the Swiss Army Knife, able to be just what I need at just the right time. Even that is a bad analogy. He’s Jacob. And I love him.
“Eve, I know you’re scared. Want to be let in on a little secret?”
“What’s that?”
The light flashes again, and I’m floating in the blue-white light again. “Hey! You could have at least let him answer!”
You already know the answer.
The light is right. I do know the answer. After all, those were my memories I was reliving. “We’re all scared.”
And where does fear come from?
I think, that part wasn’t part of my conversation with Jacob, and eventually, I shake my head. “I don’t know. I mean, I could tell you a thousand and one anecdotes, but I don’t think anyone really knows.”
Hmm.
“Hmm? You’re . . . what, the spirit of the Moonstone? The Mother Tree? Frank, the guy who cuts cheese down at the Solarian Deli? Whoever you are, your commentary’s thrilling.”
Guardians of Moonlight: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Guardians of the Fae Book 3) Page 13
