Stone Guardian (2 page)

The orcs were now retreating. The werewolves still in battle followed, and all the monsters dispersed toward the city’s edge.

He wasn’t going to follow to see how it played out. Right now only Lauren mattered. “Thank you for saving me.”

The werewolf nodded. “Perhaps in the future, you will return the favor,” he said, turning back into his other form, the young ones following his lead. All three took off in the direction of the sounds of battle, and Jack went the opposite way, toward his wife.

The double doors of the hospital entrance were in sight when a great flapping sound started overhead, air gusting around him like a mini-tornado, whipping up debris in great chunks.

Around him the late-afternoon sun disappeared, leaving shadow and darkness. Jack looked up.

Fucking hell.

This can’t be.

Am I…?

Crazy. Have to be crazy.

Dra-

Dear Lord, please,

Dragon?

Help us…

It was straight from every fairy-tale ever told. Enormous enough to block the sun. A wingspan easily three times that of the largest plane he’d ever seen. A long neck and an even longer tail.

It passed over him, lost to his sight in long moments.

Sensation returned to his limbs. Only then did the throb of his palms and the ache of his knees make themselves known to his nervous system, where concrete shards sliced into his hands and ripped out the knees of his trousers to bloody the skin underneath. His legs throbbed as he rose.

No. Compartmentalize. Later. He’d think on it later. Now was to get into that fucking hospital.

Ignoring shouts to keep out, he bounded up the steps to the sixth floor maternity ward, leaping over rock and broken steps that littered his path.

The front desk of the maternity ward was empty and the automatic doors were open. Here the earthquake had done enough damage to twist walls and leave chunks of tile lying about. Power was on, but it was dim – back-up generator. It was safe enough to keep the patients here, but they were in crisis mode. With no one to stop him, he ran down the hall. “Lauren! Lauren!”

A nurse ran out of one of the rooms in front of him. “Sir, you need to stop this! We are trying to keep everyone calm.”

“I’m looking for my wife. What room is Lauren Miller in?”

A stillness stole over the nurse’s form except her shoulders, which pushed back in quick movement. “Lauren Miller?” she asked, but it was stalling disguised as a question, something a cop heard on a daily basis. Tendrils of fear he had not experienced even when faced with those creatures uncurled from his belly, his skin growing chilled as they wormed their way to the surface.

“Where is my wife?” he asked, advancing on the younger woman.

The nurse would not look him in the eyes, her throat working in nervousness, and his skin went from chilled to sub-zero. “Sir, you need to wait here. I need to get my supervisor…”

“Where’s my wife?”
he screamed, grabbing the young woman by the shoulders and shaking her.

“That’s enough.” The voice was a whip, cracking through the air. He turned to behold a battle-axe of a woman, late sixties, built broad and strong with a face that told she had seen much and overcame it all. “Let the girl go.”

“I want my wife!
Where is Lauren Miller?
”

The older woman walked to him, no fear in her as she grabbed his hands and peeled them away from the girl’s shoulders, her focus such he could not look away from her. She said to no one in particular, “Bring Mr. Miller a wet cloth to wipe down and a scrub shirt.”

The squeak of shoes at his side told him someone was following her orders. Wet rags were thrust into his hands and habit had his body moving even as his thoughts were centered on his wife. As soon as the clean top went over his head, he said, “Please, my wife, where is she?”

There. That flash of compassion in her eyes, that fucking flash that every cop and doctor and nurse displayed when they were about to tell you your life was over. He backed away from her, shaking his head. “No. No, no, no.”

She was ruthless in her efficiency. “Mr. Miller, I’m sorry to tell you that your wife died today. There were complications. The baby was born as the earthquake started, and in the chaos we couldn’t do what was necessary to save her life.”

No.

No no no nononono nonononononononononononononono

It was the hand on his cheek, the living warmth of another human that brought him to awareness, the realization the litany was not in his head but coming out of his mouth. He grabbed her wrist. “Let me see my wife. Take me to my wife!”

“No Mr. Miller.” The old nurse’s eyes were steady on him. Not breaking eye contact, she called out, “Sarah, bring the baby.”

A young woman approached, sidling up to the old woman and angling her body away from his. With unhurried movement, the nurse disentangled her wrist from his grasp, twisting to take the bundled infant from Sarah.

She put the baby to his chest. Long practice had his arms moving to grab the precious bundle before his brain caught the significance of the moment. “This is your daughter, Mr. Miller.”

Daughter
. He had wanted a baby girl so badly, had prayed for her every night.
Lord, you’ve blessed me with my boys and I’m grateful for them. But if you could, I’d love a little girl. I want her to be like my Lauren
.

“Daughter…”

“Did you know you were having a little girl, Mr. Miller?”

He shook his head at the question. “No. Lauren wanted it to be a surprise, Lauren…” and he choked, because Lauren should be here answering these questions, about how she refused to find out, because she said,
I’m not going to let anyone make a big deal if this baby is a girl or act all sad for us if it’s another boy. You and me, Jack Miller, we make the best babies in this world, and boy or girl, that’s how it is.

“How many other children do you have, Mr. Miller?”

The question brought his attention back to the battle-axe, and he blinked several times to focus on her.

“I know you have others, the way you hold that baby speaks of a lot of experience.”

“Four. Four boys.”

“So you have four boys, and now you have a little girl to protect as well. I’m sorry about your loss, but you can’t be carrying on any more. You’ve got too much responsibility on your shoulders and you need to protect them.”

An electric current passed between them, empathy between two survivors who knew there was a path ahead they needed to take, and their loved ones would have to wait a little while before they were reunited. His back straightened and he brought his daughter up to his chest, laying her little head over his heart. “Yes ma’am.”

The nurse gave a short, decisive nod and turned back to the men and women behind her, issuing orders as she marched down the hall.

His daughter started to snuffle, so he brought her head up higher onto his shoulder, bouncing lightly to calm her. He looked down, seeing the curve of baby cheek, smelling the baby soft smell only newborns possessed, bringing peace even when the world around them was falling apart. “Don’t worry baby. You’re safe now. Daddy is here and will always protect you, I promise.”

His little girl. He hoped she had her mother’s coloring, especially those cornflower blue eyes. He hoped she had her mother’s kind heart and strong spirit and loving compassion…

He squeezed his eyes shut, holding the tears back. None of that now. There were other things to do.

Like a name. He and Lauren hadn’t chosen one for a girl. Mostly because Lauren didn’t really believe they were going to have a girl, but also because she hadn’t wanted to use his choice.

We can’t name our daughter that, Jack. I know you love it, but it sounds too much like my name. I don’t want people thinking I’m so egotistical that I need my little girl to remind everyone who her momma is.

Lauren, my love, my life, your little girl will be as amazing as you are, and she’ll be proud to let everyone know who her momma is.

Jack Miller, don’t try to sweet talk me. Jack… stop that! You letch!

Jack… Jack… I love you…

He rubbed his cheek over the downy soft skin of his little girl’s head. “Your name is Larissa, little girl. I know it fits you, and I think your momma would agree.”

Later, and soon, he’d have the outside to deal with. Later was telling four boys they no longer had a momma who would love and care for them. Later was dealing with a world that went to hell and figuring out how to bring it back. Later. But now, there was only this moment with his precious baby girl.

Welcome to our family, Larissa Joy.

26 years later

She is connected to the future of your Clan. Guard her well.

Three months.

Three months he stood sentry, crouched in the shadows of the building across from her.

Three months he watched, waiting for her importance to become clear, to explain why she was brought into his life.

Three months she consumed his every waking moment.

She was in the living room, picking up the clutter which accumulated over the day. She danced as she went about her task, her hips moving in sinuous rhythm to the song heard through the open door of her balcony – the beat heavy, the female singer’s voice soft and alluring and darkly sexual.

The fingers of his right hand curled, claws raking over his palm.

The autumn night had taken on the crispness that spoke of winter arriving soon. Humans were more sensitive to temperature than his kind, but the cold seemed not to bother her. After finishing her task, she walked out on the balcony and sat on the metal chair that stood flush with the outside wall. The thin sweater she wore offered little protection from the chill but she made no move to go back inside. She wrapped her arms around her middle and stretched long legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankles.

He burrowed deeper into the shadows, more habit than fear she would notice him.

Her long hair spilled behind her, a color he had only seen once before when he flew over a wheat field on a blinding summer day. Her face contained no harsh lines. It was all soft curves, heart-shaped with the fullest mouth, one that made her appear to always be on the verge of pouting. Her body was ripe, her sweater and jeans tight over lush curves.

She was so innocent to the dangers of this world, so unprepared to deal with any danger. Why did her Clan let her live away from them? They must know how exposed she left herself, what a tempting target she made. Her father had been a fool to let her leave the safety of his house.

Her phone rang. She took it from her pants pocket. Her side of the conversation was loud in the still evening. “Hello? Dad, hi.”

After several moments her laughter rang out, light and airy and free. Tension eased from him, the bunched muscles in his back loosening. Her face was animated, enjoyment evident as she talked with her father. She confused him, but in this one thing they were the same – absolute loyalty to their Clan.

Then she groaned. “I’m going to be grading papers. I told you Mrs. Wajkowski’s appendix burst, right? Well, the substitute they brought in is overwhelmed and I volunteered to help her out.”

She would never refuse anything her family asked of her, so she tried to get them to rescind their invitations when she didn’t like the request. What now was her father asking of her?

She rubbed the back of her neck, the motion causing her chest to thrust out, bringing the neckline of her sweater a fraction lower. “No, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Nick yet, and I’m sure he’s a very nice guy.”

Now the reason for the invitation became clear. Her father often tried to match her with suitable mates, though without success thus far. They were too forward in their attentions. None crossed the line with her, but one had frightened her with his disregard for her words and the way he towered over her. That man would never go near her again.

“Can’t any of the brothers fill out the poker game? Make it all precinct guys?” she asked, but her defeated tone told him she would be going to her father’s home tonight. She snorted at something her father said, saying in return, “Are you trying to tell me you happened to schedule all four on the Friday night shift and not a soul said anything to you?”

Whatever her father said caused her to roll her eyes, but she responded as expected. “Okay Dad, I’ll be over a little later. I do have a few things to do first, so you’ll have to survive a little while without me.” A beat of time. “I’m always cute, and no, I’m not changing into a skirt.” A few more moments of her father speaking, then with exasperation on her features, she said, “Love you Dad, buh-bye.”

She hung up the phone, a long sigh escaping. She stood up and stretched her arms, the movement lifting the sweater so the silky skin of her stomach was visible and the material bunched in such a way that it showed her generous expanse of breast.

He ran his palm over his mouth, the bite of fang on flesh hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.

She lowered her arms and leaned on the railing, her gaze coming to meet his.

Discomposure thrilled through him, alighting down his spine. Could she see him? Time hung for a moment, his puff of visible breath going still in the air as though it too waited for the answer.

She gave a final sigh and entered her apartment to get ready for her journey.

Relief and an odd disappointment skittered through his mind before sense reasserted itself. Of course she could not see him. No one as unobservant as she could ever hope to catch one of his kind.

The odd ache in his chest was back. The ache which started the night he realized he had only one more week with her, and it was time to get back to his life, his responsibilities, his Clan. Three months he had sworn to watch over her, and now he was free to never again take up this sentry, never again place her safety before his Clan, never again to look upon her face.