Guardian

by S.B. Rodgers

  “How many?” Aiden said, eyes suddenly sharp.

  “Five, all young ones too. And only days apart. They’ve been getting closer, Aiden. Keep your guard up. And keep an eye on Gabe.”

  Aiden nodded, unusually serious. He drained the last of the water in one long gulp and placed the empty glass down on the table with a muffled clunk.

  “Here. Take these. Hand them out to any others you see—they need to be warned about this.” Fong said, handing him a sheaf of papers, all written in Chinese script.

  Aiden glanced them over before stuffing them into the box of mana. “Sound advice. I’ll do my best.” He picked up the heavy box, and was halfway out the door when he stopped. “Any news from Fern?” he asked, not turning his head.

  Fong shook his head once “None. But I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Thank you.” He said, his voice wavering a bit despite his attempts to calm himself. The door slid shut behind him, the bell clanging and echoing into the vast recesses of the empty restaurant.

  Chapter 24

  “Here, let me get that.”

  Abby smiled over her shoulder at Gabriel. “Walking me to calculus?” She asked as he plucked her books out of her hands. English class had just ended, and Gabe was being his usual charming self.

  “Of course.” He held out his arm for her and they exited the classroom side by side. Gabe looked ahead as they walked, navigating the pressing throng of students moving between their lockers and the classrooms.

  “Abby,” he said as they barely sidestepped a large group of freshmen. “would you like to…ah.” He pulled her behind him quickly as a teacher with a projector on a cart barrelled past. He tried again, glancing between her and their path “Would you like to go out for lunch with me again? To the café?”

  Abby’s eyes lit up “Of course! When?”

  “I was hoping that you were free this afternoon?” he queried playfully “No prior engagements to keep?”

  She laughed “I don’t know, I’m pretty popular these days, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “So I’ll meet you at your locker after calculus.” He said, stopping in front of the math room.

  “Sounds great.” She smirked.

  Gently disengaging her arm, he handed her her books, allowing his fingers to brush over and linger on hers for a few seconds.

  Abby hurried into the classroom, feeling her heart beat rising. Keep yourself together girl, a voice in the back of her head cautioned. Math first; tall, broad-shouldered, perfectly muscled boy with flowing blond hair and soulful stormy eyes lat—“Oh, forget it.” She muttered, burying her face in her arms. She knew all too well that she wouldn’t be getting any real work done in the next hour and a half.

  * * *

  Abby leaned into her locker, packing up her things and getting ready to go out to the café. She had somehow made it through the period, though she had been red-faced the entire time and had no idea what the teacher had covered in class. I hope it’s not on the exam, she worried.

  She heard laughter behind her and stiffened. She knew that laughter. The twins were nearby, and they found something hilarious. She peeked around the edge of her locker and started in shock. What was Gabe doing with them? Her mind raced, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Gabe was leaning comfortably against a row of lockers, laughing heartily with the twins, who stood in front of him.

  What could they possibly be talking about, she wondered, leaning forward ever so slightly. The door she was pressing against gave an outraged squeak, rusty metal hinges rubbing noisily. Jason…or was it Tyler-she could never tell them apart unless Britney was there, hanging off of Jason-turned and saw her. A knowing look and a cruel smirk were all it took to send Abby reeling.

  She knew where she had seen this scene before. The exact same thing had happened with Raph, right before the Junior Prom. She had seen him laughing with the twins, and when she had asked what the joke was, they had only laughed harder and shrugged it off. Now she knew better, though. She was the joke, and she couldn’t believe that she had fallen for it again.

  Abby felt her eyes welling with tears, her face growing hot. Gabe didn’t care about her after all. He was in on it with the twins; he was probably even friends with Raph. She grabbed her coat, throwing it on quickly as she tried to control herself.

  Raph was probably the ringleader, she thought as she stuffed a few books into her bag, zipping it shut roughly. That didn’t make Gabe any better for joining in, though. In fact, she seethed as she slammed her locker shut, shoving the lock in securely, he was even worse than Raph. He had to have known what Raph had done, why she was such a social pariah.

  She swept down the hallway, ignoring Gabriel and the twins’ wondering looks in her direction. “…Abby!” she heard Gabe call behind her, the sound muffled by the crowd of students she deftly wove through. “You bastard,” she whispered tearfully, angry at him, but more angry at herself.

  * * *

  Gabe watched, deeply confused, as Abby rushed past him with tears in her eyes. “What the—Abby! Abby!” He shouted, trying in vain to get her attention.

  The twins looked at him oddly “Dude, what’s your issue?”

  Gabe hardly listened, pushing past them and into the crowded halls. “Abby, wait!” he called, eyes seeking her out desperately. He didn’t know what was wrong, but something had set her off. He couldn’t see her at all; she had been swallowed up in the mass of students.

  “Where is she?” he murmured worriedly. No other choice, he thought, closing his eyes for a moment and feeling for her, searching out her emotions. Anger and hurt and betrayal filled him as he heard her heart, felt her confusion and longing and cold, shattered trust in him. What happened?

  He thought back. He had been on his way to her locker when he had been cornered by the twins, and was laughing at some moronic joke they had made. The next thing he knew Abby had stormed past and disappeared. He had no idea what had made her so upset, but he knew who would. A hot anger filled his veins, and he felt the tattoos under his shirt begin to shift. If anyone knew what had happened, it would be that snake in the grass.

  * * *

  There he was. Gabe had finally found the demon; Raph was slumped against his locker in the deserted upstairs hallway, his eyes closed and a pair of clunky headphones firmly covering his ears. He didn’t know Gabe was there until he was yanked up by his shirt lapels and slammed forcefully against the row of lockers.

  “WHAT THE HELL?!” Raph cried out, in surprise as much as anger. He glared at the angel, taking a cautious step away. “What the hell?” he repeated, less loudly. He had seen Gabe’s eyes, knew the intent behind that look. The Guardian was out for blood. His blood.

  He took another step back as the angel advanced on him, all rage and glowing tattoos that began to twine and shift wildly across his exposed skin. “What did you do to her?!” Gabe snarled, eyes flashing erratically from blue to glowing silver.

  “What do you mean? What are you talking about?!” Raph said, looking around for a chance to escape. He didn’t know what had happened between Gabe and Abby, but he knew he didn’t want to be killed for it.

  “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ABBY?!” Gabe shouted, completely enraged. His eyes blazed white, glowing tattoos pulsating around his face and winding over his hands. His long hair flowed behind him, moving in the air that crackled with holy power.

  “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO HER!!” Raph yelled back, confused and kind of scared. He took up a fighting stance and tapped into his powers. If Gabe was going to attack, he would not win without a fight.

  Gabe sneered at his words. “Lies from a demon? How shocking.” He flexed his fingers, a glowing white sword materialising into his hand from the handle up.

  “What’s the matter, angel? Lost the prize?” Raph taunted, his eyes glowing black.

  “I haven’t lost anything.”

  “Yet. You haven’t lost her yet.”

  Gabe growled, lunged wit
h his blade thrust forward.

  “Don’t you think,” Raph said loftily as he nimbly dodged Gabriel’s clumsy, rage-fueled attack “that if I had done something to her, she wouldn’t be within your reach?” Gabe recovered himself, striking out again. “Think about it, Guardian. If I had done something, she would be mine right now. We would be gone, somewhere you could never hope to find her, much less…feel her.”

  Gabe stopped, staring at him. Raph smirked coldly. “Ah. Do you get it now, Guardian? I didn’t do anything to her. You did.” He let his power fade as he turned, walking towards the staircase.

  “Where are you going?” Gabe called, voice still thick with anger.

  “Cafeteria. Whatever you’ve done to her? Not my problem.” He looked over his shoulder. “More like my advantage.” He pushed open the door to the stairwell and leisurely wandered down it, leaving Gabe to punch an even larger dent into Raph’s mangled locker.

  Chapter 25

  She shivered, pulling up the hood of her puffy, down-filled coat. “It’s cold,” she complained. His arm snaked across her shoulder, pulling her close and warming her slightly. She turned her head, looking up into her companion’s icy-blue eyes.

  He was smiling at her softly, his deep brown skin contrasting harshly with the whiteness that surrounded them. “Of course it’s cold; it’s Alaska.” He chuckled, gesturing out at the vast, white and blue landscape that spread out before them in all directions. They were standing at the edge of an icy cliff, overlooking the ocean.

  She snuggled into him “Well, it’s too cold, Eli.” He rested his chin on the top of her head, wrapping her in his arms, pulling her close to his broad, warm chest

  “Fern…do you want me to warm you right up?” He asked, amusement in his voice.

  She turned in his arms, smiling up at him excitedly. “Would you?”

  “For you? Anything.” He let go of her and stepped back a few paces. “I’ll be right back.” He said as he disappeared, warping away from her in a fraction of a second.

  Fern’s blond, wavy hair whipped around her face in the aftershock, covering her features and sky-blue eyes for a moment. She shivered again as the cold air moved against her skin. “I hope he gets back soon,” she murmured, bringing her gloved hands together and rubbing them. Snow had begun to fall heavily from the grey sky. Gazing out at the ocean which swallowed the falling snow so easily, she couldn’t help but voice her thoughts out loud “It is beautiful, though.”

  “Indeed.” A flat voice echoed out, a voice she had never heard before.

  She spun around, on full alert. “Who’s there?” she called, her vision obscured by the blowing snow.

  The wind ebbed for a moment and she saw them, three figures walking towards her out of the blizzard. A tall, thin man dressed all in black, followed closely by a man and a woman on either side of him. Fern narrowed her eyes. These were not normal people; they weren’t human. They couldn’t be; they didn’t feel right. And the man in front—she shuddered, this time not because of the cold. Just looking at the tall man, at his pale, pale eyes made her skin crawl. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  They stopped a few feet in front of her “Don’t worry,” the man said, his eyes boring into hers “I’m not going to hurt you.” He glanced at the man and woman who stood a respectful step behind him. “But they will, if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

  Fern took a step backwards, now dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. “And what is it you want to know?” she asked, looking at him suspiciously.

  “I just want to know a few things about your daddy, my dear.” He said, a small, impersonal smile curving his lips upwards at the corners.

  Fern felt her anger rising. “I don’t know what you want with my father,” she snarled, staring him in the eye fearlessly. “but I’m not going to tell you anything, Hunter.” She stood her ground, taking up a fighting position as her tattoos immediately lit up, moving across her skin and down her arms.

  Mammon’s smile deepened. “I’m glad. It’ll be more fun this way. Freja. Fenris. Begin.”

  * * *

  Fenris reared back at the same time Freja did. He was not quick enough. Fern’s clawed fingers, glowing silver at the tips, carved into the right side of his face. They dug into the flesh above his eyebrow, dragging down to the edge of his jaw. He shrieked in rage and pain, his black eyes filling with moisture.

  “Bitch!” Freja growled, lunging forward as she broke the connection with her brother, who was cowering in pain, holding his face and whimpering.

  Fern straightened her arm, intercepting Freja’s attack and deflecting it, sending her skidding through the snow. There was a soft, muffled thud as she slid into a large, jagged rock. She stumbled shakily to her feet, the darkness fading from her eyes and the tattoos receding as she lifted her hand away from her side. Dark red blood stained her fingers. “Damn it…” she snarled, glaring at Fern with hate-filled eyes. She limped carefully over to her brother, who was holding a handful of bloodstained snow against his face.

  Fern turned her gaze towards Mammon, her eyes shining white. “Your puppies need more training.” She stated, watching his face twitch.

  He glared at her, cold, deadly rage emanating from him “You will regret this.” He brought his hands up closer to his face and began to do something he was loathe to do. He wordlessly removed his black leather gloves, dropping them in the snow unceremoniously. He blinked, and when his eyes opened again, he was in full power, his tattoos writhing like black ropes across his body and around his fingers, coursing up and down and twisting violently. His smile was that much more chilling with his eyes glowing black and empty. “Now you face me.”

  Fern glared at him fearlessly, her warrior’s spirit rising. “Bring it.”

  They ran at each other with all they had, his movements more calculated than hers. They clashed, the force of their impact jarring Fern and moving her back a few paces. He’s strong, she thought, glaring at the thin man. He didn’t look strong, not physically, but the power from his hit was formidable.

  He smirked. “Didn’t expect that, hmmm? Though I hate to get my hands dirty, when I do, I make sure that they get filthy.”

  He dove forward, fist outstretched and glowing darkly. Fern dodged, grappling at him, her fingers scrambling for purchase on his slick black clothing. He smoothly sidestepped, his back now to the cliff. He lunged at her again. “I heard your daddy was in the Capital, Fern.” She glanced at him sharply, her look telling him all that he needed to know. “I see,” he laughed, a sound that chilled Fern to the bone more than the raging storm ever could.

  He attacked her again and again, and each time she barely deflected him. Her strength was waning; he was too powerful for her. His hand darted forward, grabbing her hair as she pulled back. She cried out in pain as he twisted it in his fist, pulling her closer. “Thank you,” he hissed, staring at her with his ice-coloured eyes. “you were most helpful.” He raised his hand to deliver the killing blow when she was ripped from his grasp.

  He glanced up, catching a brief glimpse of a dark-skinned man fading away in front of him, Fern wrapped protectively in his arms. Mammon blinked in disbelief. “There are others?” he murmured, noting the man’s teleportation ability. He walked over to the place they had been standing. On the ground, being rapidly covered with snow were two paper cups, steam rising from their plastic lids. He nudged one with his foot. “Hot chocolate?” he wondered, watching the liquid seep and melt into the snow.

  Turning, he sought out his dogs. They were huddled together, Freja tentatively touching her fingers to Fenris’ facial wounds, which oozed blood at an alarming rate. “Fenris.” Mammon called, his voice drifting across the snow “Come here.”

  Fenris stood, his hand pressed gently over his wound as he staggered over to his master. “Hurts,” he whimpered, looking into his master’s face, pain clearly written on his features. “Hurts.”

  “Let me look at that.” Mammon said,
reaching his hand out. He made to touch the slashes and Fenris reeled back, snarling at him in fear and pain.

  Mammon grabbed his jaw roughly, jerking his head forward and glaring deep into his eyes. “Never. Do that. Again.” He seethed, staring Fenris down until he looked away. Freja hovered in the background, unsure of what to do. She growled quietly. “Stop that. Freja, go take care of your own wound. I’ll take care of your brother.” She caught herself and turned away, feeling the tear in her side for serious damage.

  Mammon turned his attention back to the situation at hand. The gouges were deep, and despite the pressure applied, still bleeding fresh blood. “What did she do to you?” he said, brushing his fingers down the length of the wound.

  Fenris flinched, but kept calm. “It…hurts.” He bit out through gritted teeth.

  “Alright. I’ll fix it. Stay still.” Mammon warned, moving the tattoos on his left hand. The power flowed though him, and, as he ran it over his face, through Fenris. He pulled his hand back; something felt odd. It wasn’t healing the way that it should. Something was stopping him from closing the wounds over and making Fenris’ face whole again.

  “That bitch,” Mammon muttered angrily, staring at where she had been. “Who is she?”

  Fenris whimpered, still in pain and visibly upset.

  “It’s fine, Fenris. It wasn’t your fault—and we’ll make sure she pays for this.” He said, glaring at the spot where they had disappeared.

  * * *

  “Elijah!” Fern exclaimed, hugging him tightly. “Elijah…” she trailed off as the tears began to course down her face.

  He held her, stroking her head soothingly as he waited for the sobbing to subside. “Are you okay?” he questioned worriedly. Fern rarely cried, and he wondered if she had been hurt. He had taken them miles away from the fight, just outside of a tiny little town in the northernmost part of Alaska.

  She shook her head, nuzzling deeper into his chest “They’re after my dad.” She said, her voice muffled by his heavy jacket.