Secrets - [Guardian Trilogy 01] (40 page)

“How do you see your future with her?”

“We'll be happy,” I said with certainty. How could we not be, if we were together?

“Do you want her to be like you?”

“No, I told you she wouldn’t be happy like me.”

“Is she supposed to grow old while you’re frozen forever in time at what, 34? Or at least until you’re caught? And will you continue to do your job—cause pain, harm, and social disorder to those around you? She’d have to remain hidden so that you couldn’t be connected to her in any way. Do you honestly believe she’d enjoy that kind of life? Can you
honestly
say that that’s the future she’s meant to have?”

His words hit home. He was right. My shoulders sagged and my hands balled into fists. “What should I do?”

“Save her from herself.”

“How?”

“Kill her.”

You bastard.
“I can't.”

“Then you don’t love her as much as you think you do.”

“We need more time.”

“The more time you have, the harder it will be for both of you. This abomination must end now. You should never have met. Allow her to be the person she was meant to be.”

“I can't kill her.”

“Then let her go. Sever all ties with her. Walk away from this, Holden. Be noble.” 

Before I could make any sort of retort, I felt her sorrow. “Damn it,” I growled

“Why do I even bother talking to a jinni?” Quintus grumbled, but I ignored him.

Was she under attack again? Had the demon already found her? Why was I wasting time arguing with this idiot?

“Did you warn Olivia?” I asked. He looked at me blankly. “Did you tell her what I told you to tell her?”

“Yes, and she still doesn't want to see you. At least one of you has sense.”

“Will you shut up! I think the demon may have found her.”

“Or she found him.”

“Wait, what?”

“She was going to look for him. She has it in her mind that she needs to avenge her friend's death before she’ll make a decision.”

“And you waited this long to tell me that? You asshole. Aren't you supposed to be helping her?”

“She has my help. All she has to do it ask, but she wants to do this alone.”

“And you’re letting her?” I accused.

“I can’t help where help is not wanted,” his eyes narrowed, finally showing his frustration with the situation. His voice reflected my own feelings of uselessness. It also confirmed that there was more than just a mentorship behind his anger, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“You want me to kill her or leave her . . . and why is that, Quintus?” Jealousy and possessiveness was taking hold. She was mine. He couldn’t have her.

“To save her.”

“So she can be with you.”

“Yes. It’s her destiny to be one of us.”

“That isn't what I meant. Your interest goes beyond that of a teacher for his pupil. You’ll never have her. Liv is mine.”

“She’s different. She can make a difference, if you’d just stay out of the way. That’s my only interest in her.”

I felt another surge of her emotion. I couldn't waste more time. As I walked out of the church, Quintus yelled, “Stop coming to see me. Next time I won't respond.”

The outside air was a wonderful relief even with the bright morning sun burning what lay beneath my skin.

I had to find Olivia. I tried calling her, but her phone was still off. I got in the car and drove south, but I felt her less and less the further I went, so I headed back north. The awareness of her became stronger again, until I had gone too far. I drove like that, being guided by our connection more than anything, for at least an hour. Olivia's distress was gone, but I could still feel her. After a while I determined that our connection could only get me so far. I was driving in circles. The area was correct, but I had no real way of knowing which building. I parked and focused my mind on the part that could sense her.

She seemed to be fluctuating between bored and vaguely interested. What in the world was she doing? Nothing really changed in the next few hours. Occasionally she thought of me and a section of my mind would practically light up. Every time it happened, I smiled—it could have easily become an addiction. Eventually though, my own thoughts strayed to what Quintus said. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, he’d made several valid points, and Olivia seemed to be on the same page as him. As right as we were together, it probably wasn’t something that ever should have been.

I should let her go.

My brain knew it—probably had all along—but there was a stubbornness that refused to budge. A part of me that wanted her now, damn the consequences. I was getting ready to leave when her car serendipitously drove past me. The sight of her, even at a distance, made me warm. I could remember everything about her. The feel of her skin under my hands, the sweet, flowery scent of her hair, the soft huskiness of her voice—they all called out to me in a siren’s song. I followed her back to her hotel, keeping such a far distance that a few times I was worried a few times I’d had lost her.

I could sense she was concerned about something and wondered if she saw me—was that causing her concern. Her hotel wasn’t too far from my apartment, so I drove home.

If she wanted to see me, she’d let me know. I wouldn’t force myself on her. But at the same time, I felt better knowing where she was hiding, so if she did need me, I could be there in moments. I was more satisfied, yet infinitely sadder. The acceptance of losing her was a dull ache in my chest that never subsided. I lay in my bed waiting and hoping for the familiar tug on my mind, but it didn’t come.

Instead a flood of emotion hit all at once in one smashing wave: panic, fear, pain. Olivia’s. I was out the door without a thought or hesitation. 

Twenty Nine

The library research was equal parts interesting and boring. I read about God, the devil, and anything useful I could get my hands on about demons. The problem with all of it was that everything written was more academic then instructional.
Because real people do not have these problems
. I tried the Internet, but it was just overwhelming with game lore and various sites with conflicting information. I tried fiction Dante, Chaucer, etc. but they didn't help me either. All in all, it was frustrating with little reward.

And I kept being plagued with the feeling that someone was watching me. A short, heavy-set man with slicked back hair and hard features drifted past me several times throughout the day and always took care not to look at me. I couldn't decide if I was just being paranoid or if he really was someone I should be leery about.

I obscured the titles of my books, so he couldn’t see what I was researching every time he “inconspicuously” slinked by. It may have been my imagination, but I was certain my actions annoyed him. When my mind had all it could take for the day, I put my books away and collected my things.

Walking to my car, I felt eyes watching me, leering from afar. Part of me wanted to dismiss it as my overactive imagination, but the fact that people
were
looking for me lent credence to my worries. Chills coursed down my spine. All of those times I’d felt watched from the shadows . . . had something actually been there?

I watched my rearview mirror all the way to the hotel, looking for any sign of him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but I couldn’t shake the thought that something was off. Worry churned in my stomach as I paced around my hotel room. And then there was a knock at my door.

I stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the door. It was locked, but I hadn’t put the chain on it. I made a dash and managed to connect the chain just as a faint beep sounded from the electronic key device. I stumbled back, as the door heaved open a few inches and the chain caught.

The thuds of the person kicking the door reverberated off the walls of my room. The chain snapped like it was made of paper. I back peddled, helplessly watching on. The slimy little man from the library strolled in, like he had every right to be here. He took time to shut the door behind him, then turned on me with the cold grin of a predator. 

“Olivia, I presume,” He said in a voice that hinted at triumph.

I started to scream for help, but he was across the room in an instant. His open hand struck my face hard, knocking me to the floor. My cheek was numb for a moment, then the blood began to rise. The side of my head throbbed and began to swell. My nose dripped blood, and the coppery taste filled my mouth where my teeth cut into my cheek.

“Screaming would be stupid—very, very stupid, unless you enjoy pain. And trust me, I know ways to make you feel pain you would never believe was possible.”

“Who are you?” I choked out, the taste of my blood making me feel sick. I forced myself to stand up and face him. If I were going to die, it wouldn’t be lying on the ground, begging for mercy.

Something akin to surprise flickered in his eyes. “My, aren’t you an interesting one.”

I felt another surge of fear, but stood my ground. “Why are you here?”

“To give you a choice and to get a promotion,” he said, grabbing a handful of my hair and yanking me towards him. I tried to push him off, but he only pulled harder.

“Fuck you.” I spat.

He laughed loudly. “Nice language, Angel—and don’t worry. We’ll do that too.” He held my head at a painful angle and licked me from neck to cheek, leaving a trail of sticky, foul breath.

I kneed him in the balls with all my strength. It was enough for him to loosen his grip on my hair. I pulled away only losing a small chunk of hair. Unfortunately, he recovered too quickly for me to get far and threw me down on the couch.

 “Careful,” he said as he pressed his nose up against my cheek. “I’ll think you don’t like me and have to be rough.” He knelt over me and rubbed his vile hands all over me. I fought and clawed, kicked and jerked underneath him, but he was too strong. He pinned my arms easily above me and secured my legs under the weight of his body.

“I’m going to have fun breaking that spirit,” he whispered.

I was no match for him physically. Weeping, I turned my head from him towards the door. He struck me across the face so hard my vision dimmed around the edges. Through the darkness, I saw Holden striding across the room, radiating anger—a glorious hallucination.

How I wished that this image of Holden was more than mere dream, but it couldn’t be—unless the man on top of me was oblivious to death walking his way.

Holden didn’t slow. He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the intruder, wrapping an arm around his neck. The sickening crack yanked me from my haze. Holden really was here. He threw the intruder’s body to the floor, like he was a piece of paper.

The man lay unmoving in a pile at Holden’s feet. Holden helped me stand up, staring at me as if I were a sacred relic. The touch of his hand spelled safety to all of my senses, and I melted against him. He responded with a crushing hug. God, I’d missed him.

“I thought …” He squeezed me tighter.

“When I saw you I thought you were a hallucination. He was going to—” I couldn’t finish that thought as it stuck in my throat with emotion. I pressed into Holden for a moment so happy he was really here, “How did you find me?”