by S.B. Rodgers
Guardian
Book one of the Guardian Series
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Sara & Becky Rodgers
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce in whole or in part in any form.
Summary: It’s been almost a year since Abby Shepard’s once-perfect life crumbled into little more than a nightmare. Dumped, bullied and abused, the seventeen-year-old has all but given up hope. Little does she know that her father died protecting a family secret; a secret that has the forces of good and evil battling to claim the power lurking just beneath her skin.
For Dad, Mom, Matthew & Katherine
Guardian
S.B. Rodgers
Chapter 1
“Hey, Aaaaabby!”
The tiny brunette flinched, startled back to reality. Heaving a deep sigh she snapped the fantasy novel shut, setting it on the cold ceramic tile next to her. She carefully placed the remaining half of her sandwich on top of the book, stalling for time to compose herself before she answered.
“What do you want, Tyler?” she muttered, struggling to keep her voice even. She swallowed nervously, trying to quell the rising sense of panic.
The dark-haired boy grinned mischievously. “Don’t be so rude, Abby.”
“Yeah, Brittany just wanted to say hi to you.” His identical twin Jason said, indicating the pretty blonde girl plastered to his arm like a damp towel.
Abby murmured a greeting, refusing to look up at her tormentors. Her emerald-green eyes remained trained on her novel. She wished that they would get bored of their little games and leave so that she could escape back into its pages.
Brittany wrinkled her nose in disgust and glanced up at her boyfriend’s face, pouting as she whined. “Jason, baby, let’s go—she’s like, sooo boring.”
Jason cupped her face with his free hand, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb as he thought out loud. “Boring, huh? Then why don’t we make things more interesting?” A cruel smile spread across Brittany’s face, and she nodded encouragingly.
Abby’s eyes grew wider and she looked up at them, apprehension knotting her stomach. What were they planning this time? Her mind raced and she braced herself for whatever new humiliation they had thought up. “Wh-what are you…HEY!!” she protested, more loudly than she had intended as Tyler ripped the book away from her, sending the sandwich flying. It landed-still mostly in one piece-part way down the corridor where it was quickly trampled by the gathering crowd of spectators. Her fellow students, all clad in regulation blue blazers and white dress shirts, soon packed the wide hallway. All were eager to watch Walkley Academy’s favourite spectacle - bullying Abby Shepard.
“Aww, was that love for the book or the sandwich?” Jason jeered, quickly rewarded with a cackle from Brittany. Tyler handed the book to his brother.
“I’ll bet it was for the sandwich—she can’t eat the book.” Tyler chuckled,
The crowd played along, some of them taunting and threatening Abby, others egging the twins on. Tyler glanced at his audience and grinned—this was great fun, as usual.
The Keller twins had always been popular at every school they'd attended, and Walkley Academy in Georgetown, D.C. was no exception. The boys had enrolled in the school a little over a year ago. Now, almost halfway through their senior year, everyone knew them—and most people liked them. As cool as they were good-looking, both boys and girls wanted to hang out with them. The staff were equally charmed by the pair of young gentlemen-which is exactly what they pretended to be until authority figures were elsewhere.
The crowd fell silent and parted as Tyler walked through them, over to the remains of Abby’s sandwich. “You can still eat it, if you’re hungry.” He nudged it with the toe of his dress shoe “No…I take that back. It’s still too good for you.” Lifting his foot, Tyler brought it down with a squelching thud, the bread flattening and its insides spilling out in a rush. “There.” He sneered at her. “Now it’s nearly as disgusting as you are.”
Abby cowered, anticipating that the twins’ next move would be even worse if she broke down and cried.
Tyler snapped his fingers at Jason, who tossed him Abby’s book. He caught it and scraped the bottom of his shiny black shoe against it, wiping the remains of the sandwich onto it. Throwing the book to the floor, he began walking down the hall without a backwards glance. Jason jerked his head sideways, motioning everyone to go.
The crowd dissipated as quickly as it had formed, scattering back into groups, all cutting a wide swath around Abby and her book. Brittany smirked down at Abby as she walked by, still clinging to Jason. “I’d say sorry about your food, but it’s not like stuffing your fat face is gonna make you feel better.”
Jason sneered, pulling Brittany along with him, “Later, sis.”
Abby stared wide-eyed at her trembling hands, sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest. She lowered her head into her hands, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Just…just wait…” She whispered, hugging her knees tightly, trying to make herself smaller and smaller. The motion pushed her sleeves up slightly, revealing the angry raised red scars that covered her forearms. “It’ll be over soon.”
Chapter 2
A young man stood in front of the mirror, staring into it. The reflection he saw was not of himself with his curly dark brown hair and broad-shouldered, lean build, but that of a beautiful woman. Her cold green eyes sparkled with crazed fervour as she favored him with a small smile of welcome, her scarlet mouth lifting slightly at the corners.
“Raphael.” She nodded her head, spirals of dark red hair framing her attractive face. “What of the mission?”
Raph bowed deeply. “My lady.” The woman rolled her eyes, motioning with her hand for him to continue with his report. “The mission is going according to plan,” he continued, teeth glinting in a feral way in the near-darkness. “I can feel her spirit, my lady…” He spoke with confidence bordering on bravado, though something inside of him blanched at the words as they fell from his lips. “She’ll be mine in a matter of hours.”
The woman in the mirror’s smile widened unpleasantly. “Wonderful. I expect that you are up to the challenge?”
Raph smirked and inclined his head. “Consider it done,” He looked his mistress in the eye. “Milady Satan.”
Satan looked at her servant sharply and drew herself up to her full height, the top of her head at level with the bottom of his jaw, staring him down menacingly. “You know what to do. Should you fail, prepare to face the consequences… they will not be pleasant.” Raph winced, glancing away.
She took a step back, an orange light growing behind her as an ethereal wind whipped her hair and skirt around her body in all directions. Satan reached a hand out of the mirror, gripping Raph’s jaw between her fingers. She drew him downward, ignoring his small mewl of pain as she dug her fingernails, claw like, into his skin. She locked eyes with him, her face level with his. “Do not fail me.” As she said this, her flawlessly beautiful face transformed into something ugly and infinitely more sinister. Her voice, calm and sweet moments before, was now many layered and dripping with malice
The light flashed through the apartment once more, and Raph felt his mistress’ hand rip away from his face, leaving five deep gashes encircling his jaw. The mirror cleared, Satan disappearing along with the light. Only Raph’s image remained, staring back at him as hot blood oozed down his neck. He started suddenly as the pain hit him, and he clapped a hand to his jaw to st
aunch the flow of blood.
“Flimsy human body.” He growled from between clenched teeth. Still clasping his jaw he stormed out of the room, heading through the darkened apartment towards the kitchen. In Hell, what Satan had just done to him would have been little more than a love-tap. In Hell, though, there were lost souls everywhere, easy prey for a demon. Easy sources of energy. Here, on this damned mortal plane, he fumed, the best he could hope for was… His eyes roved the filthy kitchen, senses on high alert, searching for any sign of—there!
Raph darted forward and grabbed the rat, snatching it up in mid-scuttle. He held it up to his face, giving it a bloody grin. “Hello, little vermin.” The rat squirmed in his grip, terrified and flailing about, trying desperately to escape the demon’s clutches.
Unfortunately for the creature, Raph’s grip was iron, until the rat sunk its sharp teeth into his hand. The demon shrieked in pain, flinging his hand away from his body. The rat went flying, hitting the wall with a sickening thud and a smaller, barely audible crunching sound as its spinal cord severed, killing it instantly.
Inspecting his hand, Raph shook his head in disgust, a sound of disbelief rising in his throat. “Fan-freaking-tastic,” he muttered, annoyed. “Damn thing…” he said, nudging the dead rat with his toe. Still warm. Good. The demon knelt down, placing his hands over the prone body. He narrowed his eyes, looking around him again. The things were always harder to see on this plane of existence…He smirked, spotting it in the corner. “Gotcha.”
He pounced, grabbing up what seemed to be a smoky, nearly invisible form. Gripping the mist tightly in his fist, he straightened up, slammed his hand against the table, and brought both hands up to his mouth. Ignoring the blood that covered his jaw and neck he cupped his hands over his open mouth, trapping the mist. Gulping quickly as if he was chugging a liquid, Raph swallowed the rat’s soul.
He leaned back against the crumbling wood counter and wiped his arm across his mouth, panting slightly as his system went to work. He gripped the edge of the counter, digging his fingers into it and leaving deep marks as the pain hit. His jaw clenched and his eyes bulged as he fought not to cry out at the unexpected agony of his human flesh reconstructing at a rapid pace. He always forgot how bad it could be, the pain that came with regeneration, as if his mind had glossed over the worst of it. It never hurt like this in Hades, he thought, vision swimming as his jaw bubbled, the deep gouges filling out and the bite marks on his hand healing over in seconds.
Raph convulsed and collapsed to the floor, light-headed as the pain abruptly stopped. He lay there for a moment, breathing shallowly as he tried to regain composure. He raised a shaking hand to his jaw. All but two of the wounds had closed over, completely healed and covered in pale new skin. He stood slowly, leaning heavily against the counter.
He turned his head and his gaze fell on the rat carcass that lay at his feet. He stared at it for a moment and his eyes narrowed angrily. With an abrupt gesture of his arm the body burst into flame, crumbling and turning to ash as he watched, the firelight reflected in his dark eyes.
“Well,” he said, running a hand through his curls. “At least that always works.” He began to pick his way through the debris that littered the floor of the apartment, over to a window. Lifting the blinds, he blinked rapidly at the sudden rush of bright sunlight. He glanced up at the sun, gauging its position quickly—it was around 12:30, he decided. Dropping the blind again, he strode off towards the bathroom, carefully avoiding a large, messy pile of newspapers.
Raph pulled his bloodstained shirt over his head and threw it to the floor onto the ever-expanding pile of soiled clothing. He stepped into the shower and sighed as the water hit his skin, washing away the blood and dirt. “Time to end this.” He murmured. “Time to finish this thing with Abby.”
Yeah, like you could actually bring yourself to hurt her, a little voice in his head countered sarcastically.
Raph quashed the voice as best he could as he reached for the shampoo bottle. There’s nothing between us, and there never was, he thought. We were always hunter and prey. “Nothing more,” he muttered fiercely, scrubbing roughly at his scalp as if to erase the thoughts swirling under the surface. “Nothing more at all.”
Chapter 3
Gabe leaned back in his comfortable leather desk chair, feet propped on his desk. He sighed in boredom—an office was not the place for him. Paperwork was definitely not his forte, he thought, glaring at the wavering stack of files that threatened to topple over in the tray on his desk. Pushing his long, thick blonde hair away from his face, he wondered what was the better option—start on the steadily increasing pile of paperwork, or—well, frankly, that box of manna biscuits on his desk was looking better by the minute.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his office’s door, which swung open to reveal one of the messenger angels who were always rushing around the building. The middle-aged man spoke quickly, eager to relay his message and be on his way.
“Gabe, just so you know, Aiden’s on his way to see you.” He glanced down the hallway he had come through. “Ah…gotta go, good luck!” he called as he hurried away, leaving the door open behind him.
Gabe had just enough time to put his feet on the ground before Aiden entered the room, looking smart in a crisp black suit with a stack of folders under one arm. Gabe groaned inwardly—great, more paperwork? Today, it seemed, was not his day.
Aiden gave him a friendly smile. “Gabe, my friend. It’s been too long!”
Gabe raised an eyebrow. “Aiden, you were here yesterday.” he said, indicating the teetering pile. “All your fault. Now, are you just here to add to the pile, or do you have good news for a change?”
Aiden grinned, pushing up his glasses with his free hand. “Both, actually. You’re back on the beat, kid.”
Gabe laughed, pumping his fist in victory “Yessss!”
“But…”
Gabe looked up, suddenly suspicious. “But what?”
Aiden sighed, shaking his head. “This one’s urgent.” Gabe nodded, perplexed. Urgency was a given in the guardian angel business. “More urgent than usual, Gabe. She’s almost gone. You’ve got maybe twelve hours to save her—twenty-four if you’re lucky, but…” he looked at the blonde teenager. “Not even you could be that lucky.”
“So…what’re the details?” Gabe asked, brow wrinkling in concern.
“Her name is Abby Shepard” Aiden intoned, tossing a thick file onto the desk.
Gabe picked up the brown manila folder and flipped it open, placing his fingertips on the stack of papers.
An image of a sweet looking, slightly mousy teenaged girl appeared, floating in the space between the two angels. Scenes from her life began playing at random before their eyes. A pretty blonde girl hugged her, smiling; the scene changed and the same blonde girl pushed her hard into a row of lockers
A man picked up a young Abby and twirled her over his head; An older Abby stood over the same man’s contorted corpse, tears streaming down her face. A woman and two twin boys glared at her before the boys rushed at her, hands balled into fists and cruel smiles on their faces. A razor blade sang as it bit into her flesh, drawing rivulets of blood. Gabe pulled his hand away, eyes wide as he stared at Aiden.
“She lives with these two boys…” Aiden gestured with his hand, and the image changed to one of two attractive dark-haired adolescents. Gestured, and it changed to a scene of the two boys leading a crowd in ridiculing the girl, Abby.
Gabe watched the images closely, as one of the boys destroyed her belongings, much to the delight of the crowd behind him. A look of pained disgust was plainly written on Gabe’s handsome face. Aiden took that as his cue to close the file, which he did with a flick of his wrist, dispelling the disturbing scene.
“That was earlier this morning, Gabe. It’s not an isolated incident, obviously. She’s at the end of her rope. The situation is dire.” Aiden stated, adjusting his glasses as he spoke.
“Wh—why am I j
ust receiving this case now?!” Gabe exclaimed in disbelief, standing up quickly. He slapped the folder on the desk in front of him. “How could you ignore this for so long—this girl’s life is in the balance, and you chose to leave her in that situation-”
Aiden cleared his throat. “Do I need to remind you that I’m your superior, Gabe? Sit, please.” Gabe stared at him a moment longer, then reluctantly sat back down. “There. This wasn’t my idea—this order came straight from the top.” Gabe folded his arms across his chest. There was nothing he could say against that.
“Now then, you’re her guardian. Try feeling for her.” Gabe looked at him, nodded once and then shut his eyes, focusing. Aiden watched as Gabe’s eyes moved rapidly behind his eyelids, searching for a pulse of life, of hope—he watched as Gabe brought his hands up to his temples, watched as his face twisted with confusion and anger and fear for a girl he may never… Gabe’s eyelids flew open.
“She’s faint…so faint…” he gasped out.
Aiden frowned, inquiring gently “You found her, I take it?”
Gabriel nodded, his eyes shut once more. “Yes, but…by all means, she should be gone already… Her…”
“Her life pulse is extremely low, I know. I tried to feel for her before I came to see you—you see why this is urgent. She’s been strong enough to hold on this long by herself, but if nothing is done, the conclusion is obvious. She will take her own life, the enemy will harvest her, and the blood will be on our hands.” He shot Gabe a meaningful look.
“You mean,” Gabe gritted out, “her blood will be on my hands. I hope you know what you’re doing, giving this to me.”
Aiden cocked his head. “Just following orders, I’m afraid.” He turned to leave, but halfway out the door, he looked over his shoulder. “But I think we both know that he wouldn’t give you this assignment if he didn’t believe in you.” Gabe watched him leave with a blank look on his face.
“Straight from the top, huh?” Gabe muttered, lunging across the desk to grab the file. He dragged it forward, flipping it open and grabbing a manna biscuit from the box. A cup of steaming black coffee, his only true vice from his time on earth, appeared on the desk.
