by Colleen Vanderlinden
Published by Building Block Studios, LLC
Detroit, Michigan, 2015
© 2015 Colleen Vanderlinden
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the author at [email protected].
Contents
Books by Colleen Vanderlinden
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Letter from the Author
About the Author
Books by
Colleen Vanderlinden
The Hidden Series
Book One: Lost Girl
Book Two: Broken
Book Three: Home
Book Four: Strife
Book Five: Nether
Hidden Series Novellas
Forever Night
Earth Bound
The Hidden: Soulhunter Series
Guardian
Betrayer
The Copper Falls Series
Shadow Witch Rising
Shadow Sworn - Coming September 2015
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Prologue
Creation of the Guardians
As told to the Fates by Nyx, Darkness be Her name
Nyx created the Universe, the Aether, the Nether, and watched
As Aether and Nether destroyed one another,
As they created the heavens and earth, the moon and stars,
As they gave birth to Anger, Strife, Jealousy;
But also gave birth to Love, Honor, Loyalty.
And in the wake of their destruction, she realized her time was past.
She set in motion the creation of others.
Beings great and terrible, who would create man.
But she knew, in Her wisdom, that they would not be enough.
She created the Furies, who would punish those who’d done wrong,
And the Fates, who would record the stories of gods and men alike,
And the Guardians, who would collect the souls of the dead for final judgment.
She created twelve Guardians. Twelve to shepherd the dead to the afterlife.
And she watched, and the Gods came into being, and the first Man walked the earth.
The first deaths. The first judgment.
And Nyx saw more. There was something missing in her Twelve.
So she created the thirteenth. And to her,
She gave empathy, and loyalty, and tenacity.
And with Her indomitable soldier created,
With the souls of the dead in good hands,
She rested.
Chapter One
I stood on the sidewalk outside of the loft in Detroit’s Cultural Center. I could have reappeared anywhere, of course. The sensible thing would have been to appear in the living room, or the kitchen. Except, then I would not have had this moment; this ridiculous, nonsensical, blissful moment of looking at the limestone building against the backdrop of a perfect blue-skied Detroit autumn day.
Home. That word is one I never really understood. Homesickness, even less so. It was a concept that made no sense to me. There was never a reason for me to comprehend the idea of it. And what I’d thought of as family, compared to what I have now, compared to the people who lived in the loft, was like comparing the light of a candle to the brilliance of the sun.
There is no comparison.
I took a breath, breathing in the familiar scent of car exhaust and leaf decay, a perfume so quintessentially Detroit that it brings me back here every time. I’d been looking forward to this day almost since the moment I’d flown away nearly two years ago. I’d left. I’d left my best friend, my sister, my queen and god, at a time when she needed me.
I’d left, hoping I could come back stronger and better able to serve her. I still hadn’t found what I was looking for. Perhaps I never would. But I did feel somewhat less lost. I traveled. I lived. I thought. I still did not know what this life expected of me. Perhaps I’d figure it out at Mollis’s side after all.
I took another deep breath, then walked into the parking garage and hit the button for the rickety elevator that would take me up to my friends. An imp met me as I waited, and gave me an approving nod.
“Welcome back, Guardian,” it said, its coarse voice a welcome intrusion into my nervous, excited thoughts.
“Thank you,” I answered, giving it a nod in return. “How is our Lady?”
It gave a toothy grin. “Terrifying as always.”
I smiled. The elevator came to a stop, and the imp and I stepped in. I hit the button to take us up to the loft. I focused, feeling the power signatures nearby. Several imps, as was always the case when the Goddess of Death was nearby. The shifter. The frenzied, chaotic power signatures of at least two children.
And, roaring over all of it, her power. I practically jumped up and down, giddy over seeing my friend again. The elevator came to a stop, the doors opened, and I heard a crazed cheer from inside the loft. Within seconds, the gleaming wooden door was thrown open, and Mollis Eth-Hades, Queen of the Nether, Goddess of Death, was flinging herself at me, tears rolling down her pale cheeks.
I hugged her just as hard as she was hugging me, and we laughed in each other’s arms.
“You’re back. You’re back,” she murmured.
I squeezed her harder, enjoying, more than I would have imagined, this simple embrace. I had not realized how the simple act of hugging could be so satisfying.
One of many, many things I’ve learned since my world was turned upside down.
I patted her back, squeezed her one more time, and we pulled apart. We looked at each other, both of us with tears streaming down our faces, and Mollis laughed.
“Look what you made me do,” she chastised, wiping the tears away. I laughed. “Oh my god, E. I’m so happy you’re back.”
“I am happy to be back, demon girl,” I said, and she smiled at the familiar old nickname. She took my hand and pulled me into the loft after thanking the imp for escorting me up.
The loft was the same, and not. The brick walls, the gleaming wood floors, the huge windows looking out over the city, the large empty area in the middle where the team members trained and sparred… all of that was the same.
And yet, it was different. Family photos, framed in matching black frames, covered the brick wall near the living room. Toys were scattered throughout the living room and dining room. And, at that moment a blond-haired boy was chasing a raven-haired toddler across the training floor.
“No running!” an exasperated voice called from the kitchen. I turned in that direction, and the shifter, Brennan, was standing there, looking exactly the same as he had the last time I’d seen him, though his blond hair was longer, and his beard was shorter, as if he’d shaved and then decided to re-grow it. A
t-shirt and jeans covered his muscled frame. “Hey, E,” he said in greeting, his slate-blue eyes flicking over me, seeming to take in every detail. “Glad you’re back,” he added.
“I am glad to be back,” I said. He smiled, then bent down and listened intently to the little girl, her mass of black curls bouncing as she talked to him, the lisp of her baby voice seeming to charm him. He crouched next to her, listened, said something in a firm voice to his son, Sean. The boy nodded, then took the girl’s hand.
“Zoe has grown so much,” I said, watching Sean and Zoe as he led her toward a bin of blocks in the living room. I remembered that she’d just had a birthday. How quickly the time had passed.
“She has. And she has every male in this household wrapped around her little finger, apparently,” Mollis said, ribbing Brennan.
“And… how are things?” I asked, nodding toward Zoe.
Mollis gave a rueful grin. “Some days are better than others,” she said. “We have to spend a lot of time in the Netherwoods. Which I guess works out because this whole God of Death thing kind of never lets up.” Mollis had found newborn Zoe beside the infant’s deceased mother. The woman had tried to give birth to her daughter alone, in an abandoned home, and it had apparently been too much for her. What Mollis hadn’t known when she’d made the decision to raise the baby herself was that she was a half-demon, half-shifter. It was a combination that almost never happened, which was a blessing. The shifter side constantly repressed the demonic side, causing insanity, rages, and violence. Even upon learning that, Mollis had been determined to raise Zoe as her own. In all honesty, it seemed to have made her even more stalwart in her dedication to the baby. “We’ll work it all out,” she said after a moment, giving me a small smile.
I took her hand in mine. Like all creatures of the Nether, she had cool skin. We were similar in that way, among others.
I could already feel myself relaxing, just being around her and her daughter. Another type of homecoming, and I relished it.
“And where is the new addition?” I asked, glancing around. Mollis and Nain had sent photos of their new baby, a child who should have been an impossibility. Demons and death deities are not known for their ability to create life, and it had been a shock when Mollis had shared the news. I’d been in New Mexico at the time, and an imp, as always, had found me to tell me they’d come through the birth fine, and had given me a small stack of photos.
Mollis smiled. “Sleeping,” she said.
“Finally,” Brennan added as he settled another toddler dispute in the living room.
“Finally,” Mollis agreed. Her hand was still in mine, and she pulled me toward the kitchen. “Hot cocoa?” she asked, and I smiled.
“As long as you have marshmallows,” I answered, and she made a face. An old joke between us, and the comfort of it, of being here in the place I’d come to think of as home, soothed me.
“I do,” she said. “Just for you.”
I laughed, and she let go of me. I took a seat on one of the stools at the granite countertop in the kitchen, the sounds of Mollis’s household surrounding me. The oldies station playing on the kitchen radio, the boisterous sounds of children playing, Brennan’s deep tones as he talked to Sean.
I watched Mollis set the pan on the stove, add milk. She stirred it, glanced at me and gave a small smile.
“I love your hair like that. You look amazing, E,” she said.
I ran a hand over my hair, forgetting how different it looked since I had last seen her. I had always worn my dark hair in a long braid. In New York, I’d had it cut into a sleek bob, with long layers at the front and sweeping across my forehead.
“Thank you. It is much less heavy than it used to be,” I answered, and she chuckled. She added cocoa powder and sugar, stirred some more. “Where is the demon?” I asked, noting that her mate, her husband, the demon known as the Nain Rouge, was not around. If Mollis was nearby, Nain usually was as well.
She was still smiling. “He’s on patrol. He should be back soon, assuming nothing stupid happens.”
“And…how is married life treating you?” I asked.
She blushed a little, and I knew then that things were good between them. Nain was the only one who could put that particular expression on the face of the God of Death.
“Married life is good,” she said softly. “Not that I don’t want to kick his ass often, but it’s good.”
I laughed, watched as she poured the cocoa into two white mugs. Milk glass, I remembered. She collected a lot of antique things. Well, antique to one who hadn’t even been alive for forty years, I amended. Though I did have to admit that the things she collected were often quite pretty. And I benefitted as well.
“Oh, you got it! Good,” she said, looking at my t-shirt. It was a black Van Halen t-shirt from the 1980s. I had mentioned in one of my many letters that I was working my way through learning modern music and things like that, so she began sending me vintage concert t-shirts, usually with a letter telling me which songs I should check out by whichever band was on the shirt. It was one of the many ways my best friend and I had stayed connected over the past couple of years.
“Van Halen is not my favorite,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “But I love this shirt.”
“It’s a great shirt,” she agreed.
“You are not going to stop giving me these now that I am back, are you? I am starting to understand this obsession you have with collecting weird objects.”
“You started buying your own, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “They are not easy to find, but I have come across a few.”
She grinned. “I’m more than happy to keep your collection going, then,” she said. She sat next to me, and we blew on our cocoa. I added several marshmallows to mine.
I took a sip, the explosion of chocolate making my toes curl in my boots. I took a few more sips, and glanced at Mollis to see her watching me.
“What?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You have adapted much better to this world than the rest of them, other than Heph. Do you know that Artemis still wants to carry her bow and arrows with her everywhere?”
I laughed, not at all surprised. “Well, they all had some semblance of life in the Aether.” The realm of the immortals, the world I hail from, is divided into two legions. The Aether is the realm of most immortals. These are the ones most humans have heard of: Zeus, Hera, Ares, Aphrodite. There is also the realm of the Nether, home to demons, death deities such as Furies and Guardians. I am, technically, one of the latter. We all served one immortal, the being known as Hades. Now, those of us that remain serve His daughter, Mollis. “And the rest, as well,” I continued. “To me, it feels sometimes, as if my life didn’t even begin until that night you avenged your husband.”
Mollis nodded, a shadow crossing her features. Even now, even after getting him back, after bonding with him again, after creating life with him. Even now, that night, the night he died, haunted her. I wondered what it would be like to love that deeply. In all honesty, it seemed terrifying. To give someone that kind of power… it was, perhaps, another of those things I probably would never completely understand.
“I’m going to take them to the park for a while. They need to get out,” Brennan said to Mollis, and she nodded.
“Thanks, Bren.” She got up to bundle Zoe into her little red coat, put a hat on her head, which Zoe immediately pulled off with a glare that she must have learned from Mollis herself. After a few moments of negotiation, Mollis got her to keep the hat on, and Brennan left.
We ended up taking our cups into the living room, each of us curling into an end of the huge leather sofa there. “So. That guy in Texas? What happened with him?” Mollis asked me, and I rolled my eyes.
“It was Oklahoma. And he became clingy.”
“E, you were there for like two weeks. How clingy could he really get?”
“Clingy enough to make me happy to bid him farewell,” I said, and she laughed.
�
�And the girl from Wisconsin?”
I shrugged. “She is sweet. We remain friends.”
Mollis nodded.
“I know what you are thinking,” I said.
“I thought I was the telepath here,” she answered, lifting an eyebrow.
“You wear your every thought and feeling on your face, my friend. You always have. You worry that I will never feel like I belong here. You want, so badly, for me to find something here that comforts me.”
She was silent for a few moments. Then: “Fine. I don’t think I’m quite that obvious, though.”
“You are,” I answered. “And I love that you care enough for me to worry.”
“I feel responsible, somehow,” she said.
“Of course you do. You believe you and you alone are responsible for fixing every single thing wrong in this world. If you were not immortal, I would warn you that you are going to worry yourself into an early grave.”
She rolled her eyes, set her empty cup down on the end table. “You want it too, though. You want a place in this world, and you don’t believe you’ve really found it yet.”
I studied her. “I am beginning to believe my place is at your side,” I said softly. “I am content there.”
There were a few moments of tense silence between us. I became uncomfortable under her gaze, wondering what she was seeing in me, she who can see everything. There is no hiding from Mollis’s sight, the power she inherited upon her father’s death. She can see everything a being has ever done. The good, the bad, bravery, cowardice, lies. She sees all.
“This is not all there is for you, E,” Mollis finally said, her voice soft. “You are so much more than you realize.”
It was like a punch to the gut, hearing her say it. Hearing her address the fear I have had since the day my role in our world became less clear.
It was the worry that I have no purpose at all. That I am a fluke. That my kind should have been wiped out the day my sisters betrayed what we are. Why hadn’t I been part of it? Not that I wanted to be, of course, but why? And why was I still here when my skills, my reason for existing at all, were totally unnecessary?
Guardian (Hidden Book 6) Page 1
