Personal Guardians

by Rachel A. Collett

  He only hummed, lifting Charlotte’s shirt to expose her ribs. Ribbons of torn flesh seized my attention.

  I inhaled sharply. “Are those scratch marks?” And what kind of creature did this to her?

  “Indeed,” Cedric said. “Deep ones, too.” Pressing his palms over the wound, he closed his eyes.

  Seconds ticked by but nothing happened as he stood over her, head bowed. “What is he doing?” I mumbled, looking to Darius, but he immediately hushed me.

  Cedric stepped back. Charlotte’s flesh had resealed. The blood still remained and was the only witness there had ever been a scratch.

  I peered around the room for something I had failed to see. “What? That was it?”

  “What do you mean?” Cedric asked, looking confused.

  I turned to Fiona for an explanation, but she only smiled as she cleaned the blood from Charlotte’s side. “Where—where was the humming, the chanting… the dancing?” And the terrifying, yet exhilarating sounds of Fiona’s voice against the deep thrumming of my heart.

  Cheated. I felt cheated.

  Cedric only rolled his eyes and moved on to the less fatal wound on Charlotte’s head.

  “Don’t you both heal the same way?” I came closer to examine her flesh.

  “No,” they answered at the same time.

  “Not even close.” Cedric cleared his throat. “Fiona physically feels your pain seeping from you. When she does, she infiltrates your essence and sends her powers to heal. I, on the other hand, must see it, work it out in my mind. Once I can visualize the fibers of the muscles, or see the breaks in the bones, I can repair it using my gifts.”

  “That sounds difficult,” I said as Cedric probed Charlotte’s head and skull.

  “For some, yes, and it’s more time-consuming. Fiona’s skills are much more difficult for me. She identifies with a person and their injury, but it takes a lot from her to do so and she has a harder time recovering from the energy used to heal.” Worried, I scanned Fiona’s appearance, looking for any signs of fatigue. “I cannot do what she does. I’ve tried and failed miserably at it so many times I’ve lost count. While she, on the other hand—”

  “Couldn’t care less to study the anatomy of the human body,” she interrupted. “Although, over the centuries I’ve come to know it decently well. I still can’t see it the way Cedric does. And do not worry, Ava. It takes more to exhaust me than a simple knife wound.”

  “Simple?” I scoffed, but she waved it off.

  “To heal someone that is near death would be draining and could impede my abilities for a short time. As Defender, your main priority and strength will be in the defense of humanity. You will gain additional strength, fortitude, and sight—bounds over what we have. Cedric and I, Laith and Elisa, alongside the Defender and Guardian, aid in defending humanity but our main gift is that of healing. Laith and Elisa are Heralds. Their power is in foresight.”

  She took the dirtied rag to the bathroom, dropping it into the sink.

  “The Three have fought in countless wars, both recorded in history books and not, darling. That is when healing becomes difficult. Restoring one person, even two or three, is manageable. But when you have to watch hundreds, thousands, of mortals die in front of you, wishing you could heal them, but knowing you physically cannot—that is when true exhaustion sets in.”

  I nodded my understanding. “So, it sounds as if your healing powers are not the same, yet they complement each other.”

  “I suppose so,” Cedric mumbled, focusing again on his patient.

  My insides lurched at a loud knock at the door, but it was only Dr. Maynes who entered. “Is it safe to come in, or am I to witness another hysterical scene?”

  “You’re safe for the moment,” Darius said. “But I have a feeling Ava will need to leave before Charlotte wakens.”

  “Benito,” Fiona purred, hastening from Charlotte’s bedside. A rush of foreign language issued from her lips as she wrapped the doctor in a warm embrace. Cedric chuckled when Fiona peppered him with kisses.

  The doctor only grumbled, but allowed the affection for a short time. Shocked, I glanced to Darius, but he only looked away uncomfortably.

  “Enough,” Dr. Maynes protested, holding her at a distance. “I’ve come to check on the patients. Is he finished with her?”

  “Not yet,” she said, wiping her lipstick from his wrinkled cheek with her thumb.

  “Then allow me to take the other one. Ava, I would like you to meet me in my office for a checkup.”

  “Me? But I’m fine.”

  Fiona tsked lovingly. “My grandson is like his grandfather. He is all science and medicine.”

  “Grandson?” I stammered, looking at the elderly doctor now shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.

  “You forget, Nana, even if I had the desire to dance barefooted in the rain like an idiot, I have no magical abilities to heal anyone.”

  “And you do not need them, Benito. You are so talented.”

  My head whirled. I drew a hand down my face, combating the new bout of exhaustion that suddenly pulled at my mind. There was too much to learn about my new reality, this world of guardians and demons, healers and heralds.

  A moan bubbled from Charlotte’s lips and everyone froze, but her eyes remained closed.

  “While grateful for your assistance, Ava, I must ask you to leave.” Darius crossed the room, standing next to his unconscious girlfriend.

  My eyes narrowed at his back. Only a few hours ago, he had sat with me on my bed, his face holding such sweet concern that I almost saw a side worth admiring.

  “Very well,” I muttered. Of course he would stay to watch over his girlfriend. Now that she was safe and in the hands of the Healers, Charlotte didn’t need me anyway.

  Resigned, I followed the doctor from the room, but as I reached for the knob to close the door, Darius’s strong hand seized my wrist, yanking me to a halt. I twisted in his grip, but his grasp only tightened. I growled, meeting his challenging gaze.

  He was disgustingly handsome with his honey-colored eyes that peered down at me from a distance too close for comfort. “After the doctor is done with his examination, I suggest you rest. I’ll expect you in the courtyard at six a.m. sharp—unless you don’t feel up to it anymore.”

  I steadied my heated reaction. “On the contrary.” My voice purred, sickly sweet and menacing. “A run sounds delightful. Now let go,” I hissed, jerking my wrist away. Curse his rugged beauty. Charlotte could have it.

  He smirked, closing the door in my face. I growled again as I ran to catch up with the doctor. Anger pulsed in my chest, my breath accelerated.

  Insufferable man.

  Still fuming, I barely noticed where we were going until the doctor came to another pair of double doors I had never seen. These were on the other side of the hallway, and not connected to the courtyard as the others were. I paused on the threshold before entering the doctor’s examination room with attached office. The familiar smell of a hospital flooded my senses, and I fought the desire to turn around and leave as the memories of Ian, Benjamin, and even Jonathan invaded my mind.

  This room is full of sickness, disease and half-dying people, Jonathan had once complained, but since when had I begun to see things the way he saw them? I brushed aside the thought, mounting the table the doctor indicated with a nod of his head.

  “Are you attached to that shirt?” he asked, eyeballing the bloody garment.

  “No.”

  “Good. Remove it and throw it in the garbage, but leave your brassiere on. I’ll get you a clean blouse when the examination is over.” The doctor put on a white lab coat and went to a nearby sink to wash.

  “Brassiere.” I snorted, but did as I was told. Wadding the material into a ball, I threw it away in a trash bin underneath the table.

  The doctor’s office was impeccably clean. The room was bright and open. Light gray walls featured shelving of restored wood littered with medical books and potted house plants. A tr
i-fold bamboo screen separated the office from a private area, at the end of which I could just make out the footboard of a bed.

  The doctor shut off the faucet, but the sound of water continued to trickle, catching my attention. A beautiful stone water fountain sat just outside another pair of double doors on the opposite side of the room and led into what looked like a jungle. Unable to see past the foliage near the door, I jumped down from the table to take a closer look.

  “What do you think you are doing?” the doctor asked, blocking my way.

  “What’s out there?” I asked, rising up on my tiptoes to see past his shoulder.

  “If that was any of your business, young lady, do you really think it’s appropriate for you to explore it in your undergarments?”

  “Maybe,” I grumbled, retaking my seat on the examination table.

  The doctor began to inspect my temples, his fingers investigating all areas of my skull.

  “The demon didn’t stab me in the head,” I said sarcastically.

  “Darius wanted me to do a full checkup. When you first arrived, he worried you might have a concussion.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I arrived over two weeks ago, doctor. Don’t you think I would have shown signs of a concussion by now if I did have one—which I don’t.”

  “Well, Miss Know-it-all. Immortal or not, I still need to assess you,” he said, tweaking my ear as he examined the insides.

  Grandson. Fiona’s voice entered my mind as I watched Dr. Maynes work. “Are you immortal, doctor?”

  “Do you think an immortal would look like I do?” he ridiculed while checking my spine.

  True, he did seem older than dirt, and I thought about telling Benito just that. “But they called you their grandson.”

  “And I am. The offspring of the immortals are most always mortal. You are the exception in that case.”

  “But why?”

  “Do you really think I am the right person to answer that?” He grumbled, shifting my bra strap to the side. “Is this where the demon pierced you?” he asked. I only nodded.

  His fingers were rough. He probed where the gouge would have been, pushing on the muscle all around the now nonexistent wound. I grimaced as a painful jolt surged through my body from his prodding.

  His eyes narrowed at my reaction. “The ache is temporary and will go away in a couple of weeks, but your healing is complete, my Defender.” He snapped my strap back in place. “I’ll get you a shirt.”

  “What makes you so sure that I am your Defender?” I asked, skeptically.

  He rolled his eyes, turning away. “Because my grandparents say so.”

  “I’m serious.” I grabbed him by the shoulder but the old man flicked my hand away. “And how do you know I’m an immortal? I don’t feel like an immortal.”

  “If you cannot accept the testimony of your Heralds or your Healers, there’s only one other way to prove it to you.” The doctor regarded me with a wicked smile.

  “And what is that?”

  He shrugged, pulling something from his lab pocket. Metal flashed as the doctor plunged his fist toward my leg. Too late, I tried to stop his assault, but he grabbed the hilt with both hands and pushed the edge of a knife into my leg. I cried out from the fiery pain, then growled as I yanked the blade from my flesh and flung it into the wall.

  I leapt from the table, wrenching the doctor’s hand and pinning it behind his back. “What’s your problem, old man?” I hissed as my vision clouded over with anger, dark and foreboding.

  “You see?” Breathing heavily, he laughed through the discomfort. “You don’t even bleed.”

  I dared a glance at my leg, but there was no blood, not even a mark, the pain already gone. I pushed the doctor away roughly, further inspecting my thigh.

  “What did you do?” I fingered the inch slit the knife created in my jeans, searching for the gash that should have been there.

  The doctor’s breath was shallow as he fell back into the chair at his desk. “Those whom you protect cannot harm you. Not even a dagger to the heart would kill you, although it would be incredibly painful. Only if a demon controls them can a mortal wound you.”

  I glared at the doctor then tugged the blade from the wall. Slamming it down with a bang, I leaned over the metal desk. “Do not ever touch me again,” I hissed.

  But he only smiled. “Would you have believed me, or anyone else, for that matter, that you were truly the Defender?” he asked, sickly pleased by the outcome of his experiment. “At least I didn’t use my pistol.”

  “Tell me,” I said through clenched teeth, “what would happen if I shot you in the head with that same pistol?” When his face paled, I pushed away from his desk, satisfied.

  “What about your shirt?” the doctor called out, but I ignored him. Quite frankly, I didn’t care if anyone did see me as I stalked down the hall toward my room. Unease pulled at my stomach as I locked my door behind me. My window had already been boarded up, shielding me from the outside and possible prying eyes, but I still searched every inch of my room for any additional attackers.

  I shook the handle to Darius’s room, but it didn’t open. Crestfallen, for whatever reason, I trudged to the shower. He wouldn’t be back from taking care of Charlotte anyways, but now I felt more alone than ever. After washing for the second time that day, I wrapped a towel around my body and crawled to the middle of my bed. Hair still dripping, I curled to the side, pulling my legs into a ball. But I didn’t rest. How could I? Two nights in a row I had been attacked by a demon in my sleep. One almost killed me—in a sanctuary that was supposed to keep me safe.

  But was my safety the purpose of the sanctuary? I was the Defender. It was my job to keep others safe. This compound was a refuge for mortals, not immortals. Not for The Three.

  I sat up quickly upon hearing a light rapping on my door. Bolting from the bed, I paused before the threshold. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me,” Elisa’s voice said from the other side. I opened the door, allowing entrance. She sighed upon seeing my face. “How are you holding up?” She pulled my wet hair from my neck and shoulders.

  I shrugged in response.

  “That’s what I thought.” She took me by the hand and guided me to the edge of my tub. Taking a comb from the sink, she began detangling my hair.

  “The vote was unanimous. Everyone is willing to acknowledge you as their Defender.”

  “Everyone?” I asked, skeptical. “Charlotte’s friends? Even the one who stood to remind everyone about my father?”

  “Logan is a hothead. He was brought here as a child, barely eleven-years-old. His parents were overcome by demons, abandoned him in the streets, and have long since disappeared. I think he forgets why he is here and often takes treks inland to get away from what he calls his seclusion.”

  “Is he supposed to stay?”

  “We do not require anyone to stay. Everyone has their choice. We have told him we think he would be safe—especially with the skills we have taught him. He may soon leave, but until that time, it seems he is willing to support you.”

  “And Charlotte’s entourage?”

  Elisa heaved a vocal sigh. “The boys on the security team are a strange group. She is more attached to them than they are to her. They find her attitude and… high energy entertaining. But many were impressed by your response to Charlotte. It seemed to seal the deal for the more hesitant ones.”

  “That’s not why I did it,” I mumbled.

  She paused in her brushing. “Of course not, Ava. Your reaction to Charlotte was a natural instinct. Part of the Defender’s gift is the ability to sense another’s need for help. Rachel described it as magnetic—a force that pulled her to those that needed her, just as they were drawn to the Defender. I believe you witnessed this with Charlotte just now, and that is good. Now that you’ve felt it, we must focus on your training.”

  “What do you think happened tonight?” I asked.

  “We don’t know, but we have to assume the worst, and
the worst would be that we have a traitor in the compound.”

  Glad that she no longer held this kind of information from me, I pressed the conversation. “How do we find them?”

  “First, we must gather all of the information available. When Charlotte wakes, we will learn everything that happened to her, then decide on a path from there. But this must be done delicately.”

  Elisa finished combing through my hair and picked up my jeans from off the floor. As she folded them, she found the slight slit in the material. Her brows scrunched.

  “What is this from?”

  My eyes narrowed at the garment and I wondered if I should tell her about the good Dr. Maynes, Fiona’s grandson.

  Grandson. Again, the description pulled at my mind.

  “Elisa, do you have children?” I asked, ignoring her question.

  She froze, forgetting the cut jeans altogether, and set the clothes inside the closet hamper. “Yes, at one time I had children. They are all gone now.”

  Searching through my closet, she brought out a short-sleeved floral bathrobe and held it out to me. I slipped off my towel and donned the robe, the length not quite extending to my knee. The silky fabric felt like heaven to my worn body. I secured it tightly around my waist.

  “What happened to them?” I asked.

  She walked from the bathroom. Propping her hands on her hips, she scowled at my room. “There is nowhere to sit in here. I’ll have Hector buy some nice chairs when he picks up your replacement window.”

  “Elisa?” I edged closer, unwilling to let the conversation drop. “What happened to your children?”

  She exhaled slowly, sitting on the side of my bed. Holding her arms in front of her, she looked down at her empty hands.

  “I have outlived them all,” she merely said. It was several moments before she continued. “Being one of the chosen Three, you are able to bear children, but it doesn’t come without its costs. Children are blessings, just like all babies are, and we can keep them safe and protected while they are here under our roof, but once they choose to make that step out into the real world—”