Guardians of the Akasha (3 page)

“Hmph! We’ll talk about this when I get back. Unfortunately, I’ve got to go or I’ll miss my flight, but please remember my invitation. You could get the first flight to Toronto after your mother’s party. Come stay at my parents’ lodge for a few days. You know they love you. Just think, there’s bound to be a cute ski instructor—or two—who could keep us occupied. Those boys have got nothing to do in summer.”

“Thanks,” Keira laughed. “Please don’t tempt me. I already had to beg and plead to get these couple of weeks with you girls at the apartment, and I still have to tell my parents that I want to stay here permanently. There is no way they’d let me go off to Canada.”

“Okay,” Alison said with resignation. “But you know what they say—all work and no play—”

“Yes, yes,” Keira said. “Don’t worry, we’ll make a plan. I’ll come visit, sooner rather than later.”

“Good, I’m keeping you to that,” Alison said. “Well, good luck for tomorrow. I’ve got to go.” She gave Keira a quick hug, walked to the front door and picked up the suitcase already waiting there. “I’ll call when I arrive at my parents’ place.”

“Have fun,” Keira smiled and walked with Alison to the elevator in the hall outside of the apartment.

“I intend to,” Alison said. She paused with her finger on the button and looked back at Keira. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look—I don’t know—like you’re on a different planet or something?”

“Don’t worry!” Keira forced a laugh. “Give my love to your family and enjoy the holiday.”

“Okay, okay!” Alison said. The elevator arrived and there was time for a last quick hug before Keira all but pushed her friend inside. Alison waved through the slowly closing doors. “Look after yourself, and remember to water the plants!” she shouted last minute instructions.

“I will, stop worrying,” Keira laughed. She waited until the doors slid closed, then turned and slowly walked back into the apartment. She went to the kitchen and started washing the few breakfast dishes. She missed her friend already. She, Alison and Sammy, they were like the three Musketeers; inseparable at school and during holidays their parents let them spend together. Most of those holidays were spent with Sammy or Alison’s parents; her own mother couldn’t cope with the added burden of two more girls to supervise. Besides, Keira preferred getting away to her friends’ homes.

She smiled, remembering the day in school when Alison had had her brilliant idea.

“You want to travel the world, Keira, and I want to start my own magazine. You could write all the travel pieces for me!” Alison cried, her eyes glittering with excitement.

“Woohoo!” Sammy agreed. “And once I’ve started my design label, you could feature my designs in your magazine. I’ll give you free clothes of course.”

“Of course,” Alison laughed. “And you’ll design our wedding dresses too,” and she and Sammy got that dreamy look in their eyes, even though neither had a boyfriend and both swore they would never be tied down by a husband.

Keira had pretended to play along. She had no intention of ever getting married or having children. It was difficult enough to hide her ‘curse’ from her friends. How would she ever hide it from a husband? Never mind having children; there was no way she was having kids and then finding out that this thing was hereditary. Not that her parents were in any way, shape, or form even slightly weird, but still.

Keira sighed and dried her hands. She was as determined as ever to travel the world. She was eighteen years old and legally of age. She could pack up and go, if she wanted; but she would hate to leave on bad terms with her parents.

The time to face the argument about her future was getting closer. Not today though; today she had to find the perfect gift. But what to buy for a woman who has everything?

Chapter 4

Victoria’s immaculate, French-manicured fingernails tap-tapped an irritated rhythm on the table top. “What do you mean ‘get Rafael to babysit her?’” she asked the man seated opposite her. “Do you not understand the severity of our situation?”

Victoria had called Marco earlier this morning, asking—or rather summoning—him to a meeting at her Hyde Park apartment. As a rule, you dropped whatever you were doing when the Leader of Council called.

“Of course I understand. You need more people on the street, Victoria. We have to show our strength, and I want to be out there hunting that bastard, not chained to some girl, even if she might be our saviour!” He slammed a fist down; the gold edged cups rattled in their saucers.

“Stop abusing my table, Marco,” the old lady ordered. “I understand your need for revenge, but it is clouding your judgment. Any move against Daemon has to be carefully planned. He has surrounded himself with powerful allies and, misguided as they are, they will protect him. He spreads his poison and his Watchers’ numbers grow every day. It is amazing how the vultures gather when they think there is a banquet to be had.”

“But the Draaken is also growing, Victoria. We still have allies,” Marco replied.

“Yes, I can only hope that it will be enough,” Victoria frowned. “In the meantime, Keira cannot under any circumstances know that she is being protected. She has a certain stubbornness, you know,” a hint of pride crept into her voice. “And she is not an idiot. Your brother Rafael is not subtle enough.”

Marco combed his hand through his short, dark hair. “If her magick is as strong as you sensed it to be, she doesn’t need my protection. She should be able to take care of herself. Victoria, we have too many—”

“Are you being dense on purpose?” Victoria interrupted. “In the first place, if I sensed her magick this morning, don’t you think
he
did as well? That is exactly why she needs our—your—protection right now. Besides, her magick is unpredictable. She needs time to learn how to control and direct it. And in the second place, you only have to stay with her until I have convinced her to accompany me to the Council meeting.”

“Do you have any idea when that meeting will take place?” Marco asked.

“As soon as I’ve received confirmation that all the members will be there, which should be any day now. I will let you know.”

Marco glared at her from across the table. “Fine, I will stay with her for a few days. But after the meeting, I am back where I belong—out there!” and he jabbed his finger out towards the window and the streets below.

“I know you are frustrated, but you are the only one I can trust with this. She is more precious than you can begin to imagine. We
must
keep her safe.”

Now that he had capitulated to her will, Victoria could afford to be gentle and understanding. She had decades of practice in the political subtleties of being Leader of Council. Most of its members had no idea how old she truly was and would be astounded if they knew.

“Marco,” she said, “you have to promise me, no matter what happens, you will defend her with your life. The Guardians have been without a High Priestess for far too long. If only I—”

His glare softened and he interrupted, “Don’t do this to yourself. You have led us and kept us on the right path. We didn’t need a High Priestess. Besides, you couldn’t have helped what happened.”

Victoria smiled at him. Her mind agreed, but not her heart. She knew she would carry the guilt of her beloved’s death for the rest of her days, along with her inability to continue as the Guardians’ High Priestess after she had buried him.

She allowed herself one small moment of weakness.
Roberto. How I wish you were here, by my side. I can’t do this without you.

Victoria shrugged the melancholy off and continued. “Let’s not talk about that now. Times have changed faster than any of us could have foreseen. Even Chloe was caught off-guard by the speed of Daemon’s changing tactics.”

“She blames herself for that, you know. She’s working too hard trying to See what Daemon is doing,” Marco said.

“Tell her to get enough rest,” Victoria instructed. “Some events are beyond the vision of even a Seer as powerful as she. We need her to be at full strength when Daemon makes his final move.”

Marco nodded. “To get back to Keira—I am still not convinced she can take the reins. She is completely untrained, it will take years to get her to your level, and that is time we don’t have. You know how dangerous it is to put an untrained, untested initiate into the field.” He paused, “Couldn’t you—”

“No,” Victoria shook her head in defeat. “My powers are weak. The duties of High Priestess are beyond me. You know that.” Victoria fell silent, clamping down on the guilt searing through her, but not before she saw the concern on Marco’s face.

Victoria was tired—drawn to the point of despair, yet it would be disastrous if Marco suspected. She couldn’t lay this on his shoulders as well. If the Draaken knew how weak she felt, they would rally around her. They’d be distracted—they would not protect Keira. Marco said the Guardians didn’t need a High Priestess; he couldn’t be more wrong. Over the years she had witnessed their steady, growing dependence on technology to manage their world and keep it hidden. At this rate, magick would soon become an add-on.

The Guardians needed someone who had the magickal power to guide them, and the natural understanding of technology that comes from growing up with it. That someone was Keira.

Victoria gave Marco a reassuring smile. “I have enough time to prepare her. Together, you will be invincible and the future of the Guardians will be secured. Thanks to your leadership as Commander of the Draaken, our security has also never been stronger. We will win this war with Daemon, once and for all.”

“If it was up to me, this war would start tomorrow. The sooner I get my hands on Daemon, the better,” Marco answered.

Victoria tried to distract him. “Thank you for accompanying me to the function tomorrow. It will give me the opportunity to introduce you to Keira. I will meet you at the Wilde’s estate,” and she dismissed him with a half wave.

Marco gave her a small bow and took his leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

A few minutes later, Victoria stood by the window and looked on as Marco crossed the street. She watched as his long, powerful strides carried him out of sight and could only silently reaffirm her trust in him: that he would be strong enough to carry the burden that would too soon be laid on those broad shoulders.

Chapter 5

Alison stared through the plane’s porthole at Heathrow Airport as they waited for take-off. The businessman next to her had given up trying to engage her in conversation and shook his newspaper out with an annoyed snap. She didn’t care; her long yearned for holiday was about to begin.

It should have been more satisfying; she was done with school and its idiotic exams. Yet she couldn’t get Keira’s face out of her mind, how tired and drawn she looked. Keira thought she could hide these things from her friend, but Alison knew her too well.

The air hostess went through the routine safety demonstration, but Alison didn’t hear a word. She remembered the first time she met Keira.

It was on Alison’s first day at St. Catherine’s Academy for Girls, the institute that prided itself on its reputation as a moulder of daughters of diplomats, corporate giants, and the
crème de la crème
of society. She was thirteen and stood in front of the class, waiting for the teacher to introduce her. The too-long school jumper hung from her bony shoulders like a sack; her red hair frizzed out around her head, and her black framed glasses slipped down to the end of her nose. She wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

Unfortunately, the other girls were like wolves scenting fear. They immediately started giggling and bumping elbows. The stage-whispered ‘carrot top’ and ‘four eyes’ were loud enough for her to hear and made her blush an even deeper shade of scarlet. She gratefully sunk into her chair when the teacher showed her where to sit.

Alison still thanked her guardian angels for putting her next to Keira that day. When she summoned the courage to look at the girl who sat next to her, she saw kind green eyes in a heart-shaped face, framed by shining black hair. “Hi, I’m Keira. Don’t mind that lot. They’re the same to all the new girls, just trying to feel superior.” Alison smiled back. A friendship was born.

Sammy joined them six months later. She was short and feisty, her blood as hot as the Caribbean she came from. She was nearly expelled on her first day, when she got into a fist fight with someone who made a catty comment about her chocolate-brown skin.

After all these years, Alison’s stomach muscles still clenched at the thought of some of the humiliations she had suffered, especially those inflicted after having crossed Isobel’s path.

The corners of her lips turned up in a sudden smile.
There was that one day when they underestimated us
, she thought.

Alison and Sammy knew Keira as a nice, generous and very loyal friend, but also introverted, offering her opinion only when asked directly. While a fight would make Sammy want to attack and Alison froze when confronted, Keira would always choose to walk away, if she could.

That specific day, almost a year after they had become friends, the three girls sat under the ancient oak tree in front of the school’s sprawling, Tudor-style main building. They listened to Alison read a letter from her parents in Canada. Her father wasn’t a fan of e-mail and loved sending Alison long, handwritten letters.

Isobel and her group sauntered past and the next moment she grabbed the letter from Alison’s hand and ripped it to shreds.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Sammy shouted, on her feet, fists clenched.

“I was doing bookworm here a favour,” Isobel sneered. “God knows how she can read through those thick, ugly glasses. Must have got them from her grandma. Who was the letter from, nerd? A secret lover?” Isobel taunted Alison, grinning at her friends. They sniggered at the red-haired girl’s humiliation.

Alison stared at the ground as tears dripped down her nose, onto her shiny black school shoes. The next moment, her arms broke out in gooseflesh as a wave of heat flowed past her. She glanced up and saw Keira step towards Isobel.