Guardians (Seers Trilogy Book 3)

by Heather Frost

  For a solid hour, my phone—which the Demon Lord held—had gone off almost every five minutes. When I didn’t answer, Patrick waited those few predictable minutes, and then tried again. Did he know something was wrong? Was he just anxious? And more important, what did his silence for the past twenty minutes mean? I knew it corresponded with the time Sean would have been arriving. Was Patrick busy fighting his brother? Was he protecting the twins? At least he had Jack. That would take the Demons by surprise . . .

  A phone started to ring. I looked up quickly because it wasn’t mine. It was a section of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, but it didn’t have long to play. The Demon Lord answered nearly at once.

  “Yes?” he said shortly into his phone.

  The answer was brief.

  The Demon Lord relaxed, and a smile twisted his face. “Good. And he surrendered? Excellent. Bring them all. We’ll be ready to go when you get back. Thank you, Far Darrig.”

  He closed his phone and turned to Selena. “He was successful.”

  My heart stopped for what felt like the hundredth time today. No one seemed to notice.

  “O’Donnell and the twins are secured. Far Darrig’s already on his way back. And it seems there was another Guardian, as well as a Seer, and they both surrendered as well.”

  Claire whimpered thinly from across the room.

  “Good news,” Selena commented, studying her nails.

  “Very.” He stood lithely. “Do you feel up to intimidating a few Seers? Perhaps some can still be useful to us.”

  She grinned, her hand dropping as she stood. “I would love to.” She glanced at Lee, the corner of her lip curled. “That human was no fun at all. Completely pathetic.”

  Toni’s limp body tensed. His head rose from my shoulder, his expression black. I’d never seen him so furious. “I will end you, Selena,” his voice quivered with fervor. “Even if it takes the rest of my existence, I swear I’m going to annihilate you.”

  She brushed a hand over her perfectly bushy hair, her thick lips stretching into a grin. “I look forward to such devotion, Antonio. Eternity can be such a bore without some distractions.” Her hips swayed as she followed the Demon Lord and Mei Li from the room, leaving Viktor and Takao to guard us. As soon as the door closed behind them, Toni slumped back against me, utterly exhausted. I tipped my head against the top of his, tightening my hold on him, but not daring to bring up my other arm to fully embrace him in case the Demons decided such action merited separation.

  “It’s over, isn’t it?” I whispered unnecessarily.

  Toni didn’t answer.

  The twins had been dragged into this mess. They were going to become slaves to the Demon Lord. Had they already been nearly killed? Patrick and Jack, both captured . . .

  Surely this was the end. Winning was impossible now. We’d lost too much.

  “Kate,” Toni croaked.

  I swallowed before answering. Our guards didn’t seem to mind if we talked. They had to be able to hear our mumbling, even if they couldn’t make out the exact words. “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Could you save her?” he whispered. “If you went back?”

  I looked to Lee’s body, not sure of the answer. Could I? If I went back and talked to Patrick, could I save Lee’s life? Maybe if I was more specific this time, if I warned Patrick to make sure Toni took Lee away . . . Maybe I was going to have to use trial and error, constantly repeating these weeks until I managed to save everyone. First I’d delivered the message meant to save the twins. Now I needed to warn Patrick about the twins and Lee.

  If I lived this enough times, would it be possible to stop it from ever happening?

  I honestly didn’t know. But I had nothing to lose at this point. The Demon Lord would probably kill me as soon as he was done with the Seers upstairs. I could go back in time, deliver a final message, a final warning, and then I could die trusting that the endless cycle of time would continue. That, somehow, I would never stop trying to save those I loved, and that someday I’d succeed.

  Patrick, I wish you were here. I wish I could have told you one last time . . . I wish I’d said yes. I want to marry you. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine . . .

  I pushed away the image of Patrick’s face. It was too painful to dwell on.

  “I’ll try,” I whispered to Toni.

  I felt him struggle with words. When he did speak, his voice wavered. “Thank you, Kate.”

  “Hey, what are you talking about?” Viktor asked menacingly.

  I lifted my head and Toni straightened painfully beside me. “Take me as far back as you can,” I told him suddenly, squeezing his shoulders. “I want to save everyone.” If I was going to die, why not save my grandpa too? And Alex and Ashley?

  I don’t know that he heard me. His eyes were closed and he was concentrating hard.

  Viktor stepped toward us, raising his gun and pointing it at me. “Stop moving!” he ordered.

  Takao turned away from Claire, catching sight of Toni’s aura, which he’d just revealed to me. The Demon Seer paled, making his many scars stand out. “No! She’s going to travel!”

  Viktor didn’t need a direct order. His finger squeezed the trigger of his gun, once, twice, three times . . .

  I felt the bullets whip into my body, but I was concentrating on the single emotion Toni was summoning so intently that even the sharp pain couldn’t distract me. I was losing myself in the memory when I heard Takao scream in frustration. He was unwilling to follow me, because he didn’t know where I was going. He didn’t want to travel to a year he’d already lived in. He was afraid to die.

  I wasn’t.

  I was dying anyway.

  Viktor had emptied his gun into me, but it couldn’t stop me from fading out of time.

  I gasped painfully. I was lying in a dark room on the hard floor, and for the first time I was feeling the pain of the bullets. I was dying. Fast. And it hurt. A lot. I could also feel the pull of time, begging me to come back. It was stronger than I’d ever felt, as if it was ordering me to come back quickly, before the fatal damage was done.

  I ignored it.

  Moonlight filtered through the darkness, silhouetting every shape. I recognized the room almost immediately. I was in Patrick’s bedroom. And I wasn’t alone. I heard someone breathing—heard the mattress protest against sudden movement.

  “Who’s there?” a wonderful voice hissed. It was amazing how warm my heart could feel despite the overwhelming trauma my body and mind were going through.

  I opened my mouth to answer him. Only a strangled cry could escape. It was a cry of pain, death, and longing. Though I couldn’t see him, I heard Patrick ease off his bed. Cautious footsteps brought him around the bed, closer to me. I lifted my eyes, my vision strangely frosted—cloudy. It made it hard to see him clearly. But those blue eyes were unmistakable. They went right to mine, then raked over my bloody body. His mouth was hanging open, a dagger in his hand.

  I tried to speak again, this time anticipating the urge that would follow my open mouth; I managed to stifle the scream. “Patrick,” I rasped.

  The dagger slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor. He fell to his knees beside me, eyes still dragging across my body, taking in the blood and assessing the damage. I knew he’d realized the extent of my wounds when he suddenly grabbed my hand, squeezing it with a pressure that hurt. His other hand touched my face, pushed my hair back off my forehead. “Kate.” He was having difficulty speaking. The words didn’t want to pass through his clenched teeth. “What happened? How’d you get in here?”

  I cringed against the pain, struggled to swallow back blood or bile or both. “What day is it?” Had Toni understood? Had he taken me back further? Patrick didn’t look sick. His face was pale, but he wasn’t dying. So when was it?

  His face was uncomprehending. “What day . . .?” His body went hard when he figured it out. “Kate, you can’t be here.”

  He looked so worried that I’d risk life by coming back, I ga
ve into the strange urge to laugh. It was a pathetic attempt. “I think I was already pretty done for.”

  I squeezed his fingers, but it was hard to tell how firmly I managed to do it. I couldn’t feel mine anymore. “I’m sorry, Patrick. I know this is hard. But I need you to listen. I need you to change what happens. But to do that, I need to know what day it is.”

  He kept looking over my body, looking at the blood I could feel soaking every inch of my front. “The funeral,” he fairly stuttered. “It was the funeral today.”

  I pursed my lips and closed my eyes, not that his answer came as a big surprise. “Not far enough,” I whispered to Toni, though he wouldn’t be able to hear me. “I wanted to save . . .”

  The pull was becoming stronger, almost painful—not that it really stuck out from the rest of the torture I was in. I opened my eyes, trying to focus my foggy, pain-laden thoughts. There wasn’t any time to waste. He was watching me closely, his expression grave. “Patrick, I don’t have much time. Already I’m being pulled back. But you need to promise me something.”

  “What? Anything!”

  My lips twitched at his eagerness, his desperation. He still thought he could save me. I felt like my heart was breaking, but I guess I should just add that to the list of other agonies.

  I wasn’t exactly sure where to start, but I forced my lips to move anyway, knowing time was short. “I need you to promise that you won’t try to stop me. That you’ll let me do what I need to do. That you’ll save the twins instead. Keep them safe, no matter what. Because you can’t save me, Patrick. Not anymore. Not when I’ve gone back . . .”

  His hand flexed around mine. “Kate, you have to tell me what happened—what happens. Who did this to you?”

  Of all the things for him to worry about . . . I would have rolled my eyes, if I was conscious enough to do something like that. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He shuddered, which made his breathing ragged. “Doesn’t matter? Kate, please—give me anything . . .” He suddenly looked toward the door. “Toni!” he yelled, frustrated and helpless.

  I winced at his pain, knowing it was only the beginning.

  As if he could sense my spike in pain, he looked back to me, our eyes locking. Though I still had things to tell him, there was something else my heart needed to say, sensing rightly that the last beats were coming.

  “I know this is weird for you,” I breathed shakily. “But my Patrick isn’t here. With me in the future, I mean. So if it’s all right . . .” I took a deep breath—as deep as I could manage, anyway. “I love you, Patrick. I love you so much. No matter what, I’ll always love you. No matter where I am. Please promise me you’ll remember that?”

  The door was thrust open, and Toni let out a shocked exclamation. But I wasn’t paying attention to him—I only had eyes for the man I loved. The last face I was going to see.

  He saw my intensity and was frightened by it. “I promise,” he croaked. “I’ll always remember.”

  Somehow I managed a smile. “Save the twins. When everything goes wrong . . . when everything we do fails . . . just take care of the twins.” I swallowed, choked, desperate to warn him about Lee. Toni was in the room now; he needed to hear about Lee. If anyone could save her life, it was him. “And please . . . please, Toni . . . tell Toni . . . he . . .”

  Warm blood was climbing up my throat, clogging my words. I couldn’t deliver final warnings—I was out of time. I had to hope that the pitiful warning would put Toni on his guard, be enough to save my best friend’s life.

  Tears were shining in Patrick’s eyes. His breath seemed to hitch unconsciously with mine. I couldn’t kiss him good-bye—no way I had the strength for that, not when I couldn’t even say his name one last time.

  I tried to squeeze his hand, failing miserably.

  My eyes were too heavy. They closed of their own accord. I felt my heart pound a final time, and then my muscles relaxed. The pain was gone. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Not even the pull I’d been fighting so hard against.

  My last conscious thought was that a better death would have been impossible. I’d died next to the man I loved with all my soul. Nothing could compete with that.

  Twenty

  Present Day, Thirty Minutes Earlier

  Patrick O’Donnell

  New Mexico, United States

  I shut my phone, bringing the top to rest near my pursed lips. I stared out the small kitchen window, the yellow curtains accentuating the bright sunlight that shined through. My whole body was tight with an energy and stress I didn’t know how to release.

  She wasn’t answering her phone. No one was. Lee’s phone went straight to voicemail, as did Toni’s and Claire’s. I swallowed hard and tried to get control of myself. There could be a harmless explanation for this extended silence.

  But if there was, it was well hidden.

  I repeated Lee’s last comforting words to me. Kate was all right. Cold, wet, and unconscious, but she was all right. I’d been assured that I would get a call from her the moment she awoke.

  So why hadn’t she called? She should have been awake by now, if Dr. Radcliffe’s estimations were correct. If things had gone smoothly. But I suppose I already knew they hadn’t. Hanif had been shot.

  I sighed deeply, closing my eyes tightly. I wished more than ever I was with her. I needed to see her—touch her. Know that she was all right. Being away from her when she was putting herself at such risk . . . it was agony. I was forty-seven miles away from her. So close, yet so terribly far.

  “Patrick?”

  I glanced up to see Jack standing beside the table.

  He slid into a seat across from me, his eyes worried. “You all right, mate?”

  I pulled the phone away from my mouth, setting it on the table. “No one’s answering.”

  Jack eyed my phone. “There could be a reason for that. There’s no sense in jumping to conclusions.”

  I nodded once. “Maybe.”

  He leaned back in his chair, huffing. “It stinks something fierce, them being unconscious and unable to tell us what happened. If we knew, we’d be better prepared.”

  I didn’t form any reply.

  He shook his head suddenly. “Lilly and Charlotte just left for the store. The twins are out back, playing in the yard.”

  “They’re staying away from the horses?” I asked, surprised. They were loving the small country farm, though their grandmother was pretty adamant that they stay away from the horses unless closely supervised by Jack or one of Lilly’s farmhands. Of course, Josie disregarded rules the second they were made, and when it came to horses even Jenna didn’t mind a little sneaking. I’d kept an eye on them myself, not that they knew I was here.

  He shrugged. “For the moment they are.”

  “Where’s Maddy?” I asked.

  “She’s still got her headache. I told her to go up to bed.”

  I nodded slowly, looking back at the phone lying quietly on the table.

  Jack’s voice was understanding. “I just thought I’d come and see if you wanted to join us out back. Just because you’re dead and invisible doesn’t mean you need to be a hermit.”

  I barely smiled, and he sighed. “Look—you can worry all you want, but it isn’t going to change anything. So why not step out into the sun. You could use some color,” he added jokingly.

  “Maybe in a few minutes,” I said, reaching for the phone. “I’m going to try Kate again.”

  He straightened in his chair, shoving a hand into his pocket. “Fine. You do that. I’ll try Toni.”

  Though I was grateful for his show of help, I doubted it was going to do any good. And not just because I’d been on the phone for about an hour without once speaking to another soul. No, it was because of the feeling in my gut. The one that told me something was wrong.

  Horribly wrong.

  ***

  Fear Dearg

  New Mexico, United States

  Slow down,” I told Yuri.

  He eased up
on the gas instantly, slowing the SUV’s speed. I could see the farmhouse up ahead, just as Kate had described it; a small, pale yellow house at the end of the road that had turned to dirt about a mile ago. No sign of neighbors. A large barn dominated the flat landscape tucked behind the yellow house. A few trees grew in the yard, and pastures surrounded the land. It was an isolated spot, and though it looked nothing like Ireland I was temporarily reminded of home.

  I crushed the thought immediately as I always did whenever memories of my past life cropped up. I was no longer that person. I hadn’t been for a long time. If it hadn’t been for Kate’s reference to my father, back at the warehouse, I wouldn’t be thinking about home at all—wouldn’t have to push back the sharp feelings such thoughts inspired.

  Except I was probably only minutes away from coming face-to-face with O’Donnell—again; maybe that thought alone was what kept triggering my more reflective side. Though that didn’t entirely make sense, since lately I’d been thinking of the past far too often. I wasn’t one for personal reflection, but since seeing O’Donnell in Vegas, memories had been quick to surface. My mother’s face, which I thought I’d forced myself to forget a century ago; my father’s voice, which I’d learned to hate even before my death. Even boyhood memories that seemed inconsequential kept surfacing: Patrick and me playing in the cemetery behind Father’s church, eating a warm slice of bread in Mother’s kitchen . . .

  I growled internally. Here I was again, far too distracted by things that didn’t matter. Hadn’t mattered for years. I needed to focus on now. Forget the past. Forget Kate Bennett’s fearful face. Forget the odd jerk I’d felt in my gut when that human girl, Lee, had been executed at the Guardian’s feet. Forget everything but my hate, my revenge. I’d need my hate if I was going to ruin him.

  Yuri was easing off the road. I usually hated having partners, but at least Yuri knew how to approach a delicate situation. Surprise would be important, especially when dealing with O’Donnell.