The Guardian (19 page)

“My uncle died two years ago,” Stephen said. “One of the coven members called me and said he'd confessed on his deathbed that he had accused me falsely. They wanted me to come home to the island, but I couldn't. I want nothing to do with the coven.”

“Maybe you can go back when the pain is not so raw.”

“I'll never go back.” Stephen heard the iron resolve in his own voice.

“Never say never.” She stroked his chin, running her hands over the stubble there.

He reveled in the feeling of her hands on his skin, and he tipped his head so she could touch all of his jaw.

“I never thought I'd fall in love with you, but it happened. The heart can do anything. It can be ripped apart, stomped on, burned, drowned, but still it can mend.”

At her confession of love, Stephen felt a lump tightening in his throat. He wanted to tell her how he felt, beg her forgiveness, but he couldn't. This was torture.

He grabbed her hand. “It's getting late. We should go.”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, we don't want to arouse suspicion.” He kissed her hard on the lips, then pulled away.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, her expression contemplative, a hint of angst in it.

“No. I just don't want to face the wrath of your grandmother. She scares the hell out of me.” Stephen forced a grin. The act itself felt odd on his lips and he had to force enough amusement in it to be convincing.

“I'll protect you.”

Stephen felt another claw slice through his chest. “I know you will,” he said flatly, as he unwrapped her hair from around his palm. He straightened the amulet so it fell down the front of her chest. The heat of the silver
penetrated his hand, down to bone. He squeezed his hand shut trying to hold the warmth in as he sat up.

Cold air cut into his skin where her warmth had been. He began to pick up his clothes, minutes now chipping away at his soul. He had two days before he had to betray her. Forty-eight measly hours. They would feel like an eternity.

 

Fala ran through a forest. Branches tore at her face. Shadows grabbed at her. She couldn't find Stephen. Where was he? She could hear him calling her name, but she couldn't find him. She could feel Tumseneha nearby, the charm galvanized by his presence. Tumseneha was going to kill Stephen if she didn't find him.

“Stephen, where are you?”

“Over here.”

Fala turned left, thrashing at the boughs, plowing through brambles that bit at her heels.

“No, over here.”

She turned right. “No, here.”

She stopped, confused. His voice came at her from all angles. She heard a growl, wheeled in time to see Tumseneha before he thrust a knife into her back…

She couldn't scream.

Fala woke, eyes wide in the darkness, panting, heart throbbing. She saw the dark shadows of her own fingerprints on the walls and realized she was in her old room. Just a nightmare. That was all.

The nightmare bled vividly into her thoughts, and she could almost feel the blade in her back as she listened to the creaking of the timbers in the attic. It was only the
house settling. Tumseneha wasn't nearby. Her hand went to the charm. The sensation of the static metal calmed her a little.

She thought back to earlier in the night, when she and Stephen had arrived home. Takala, Akando and Aden hadn't gotten back yet. Takala had made them stop by a mall, too, on the way home with some excuse about picking up some surveillance photos at Jippy's Photo Lab. Nina had taken the children home and put them to bed, awaiting Aden's return.

Stephen had been unusually quiet all night, shooting her brooding looks. Fala realized why he'd grown so quiet and reserved: they couldn't share a life together. They could never be together again. Their few hours of uncontrollable lovemaking in the cave would be all they'd have to hold on to for an eternity. Fala had felt the doom, too, the weight of it expanded around her like a toxic gas. No one in the house was in a good mood, and a dark pall settled over the whole evening.

Even Meikoda seemed quiet after Fala explained why she and Stephen had been late. Fala told her they had to wait a long time to clear up the accident with the sheriff. Thankfully her grandmother hadn't questioned Fala, only shot Fala her usual incredulous I-don't-believe-a-thing-you-say look.

Fala was glad when Takala and Nina arrived home and she had an excuse to retire for the night. She had left Stephen on the couch with a blanket and pillow, then they had all gone to bed.

Didn't seem likely she'd get back to sleep now. The air still felt tense. She looked at the mermaid clock. One
in the morning. Adrenaline still throbbed in her veins from the nightmare. She felt wide awake and uneasy.

Everything is in order.

The voice penetrated past the pulse pounding in her ears. She realized the voice had been broadcast to her telepathically. It was faint, hardly discernible, but she perceived the thought pattern as Stephen's. How was she able to share his thoughts? She recalled when they'd made love. There had been a moment when she'd pierced the blood pact and she could feel his spirit. Had that tiny rift somehow formed a bridge of telekinetic communication between them?

Have you made her fall in love with you?

The essence of the second voice sent a shiver down each of her vertebrae. She'd felt that voice before. It resonated in the dark corners of her mind, in her nightmares, in the marrow of her bones. Tumseneha.

F
ala visualized Tumseneha's hideous green face, the horns, the pointy ears, the dragon tail. His inner voice matched his outer appearance.

Her nerves on edge, she pulled the charm from beneath the neck of her nightgown. Just to assure herself Tumseneha wasn't nearby, she rubbed her thumb over the smooth silver.

It wasn't hot and remained perfectly still.

The necklace would have alerted her if he was in the vicinity. Had Stephen been conversing mentally with Tumseneha this whole time?

She recalled finding him at Senator Kent's house. Stephen had already been in the room with Tumseneha, who had been lurking within Kent's skin. Had that whole confrontation been staged so Stephen would be wounded and he'd have time to make her fall in love with him?
Oh, God, she had been so blind. She quieted her racing heart and listened carefully.

Yes, she's fallen in love with me.
Stephen's brain waves were tinged with an emotion she couldn't define.

Are you certain? You must be positive. Her powers cannot be drawn before the solstice, unless someone she loves kills her on her own sacred ground.

Killed her? The implication in Tumseneha's words struck her with the force of a speeding truck. Her mouth dropped open, even as tears burned her eyes. Had Stephen's plan been to kill her all along? Bands slapped around her ribs and she could hardly breathe. Everything they'd shared had been a lie.

Are you absolutely certain this will work? We have no record of this prophecy at BOSP.

You wouldn't. This insight came directly from the Oracle of Iphled. She assured me this was the only way the Guardian could be destroyed.

Fala cringed at the mention of the Oracle of Iphled, an underworld sorceress and the enemy of all white-magic practitioners. Iphled wanted the destruction of good magic so the underworld's hellish magic could rule the earth. Had she been the one to free Tumseneha and bring him back to this dimension? Was the oracle part of Tumseneha's plan to dominate all of mankind and use human souls to gain dark dominion over the earth? Worst of all, was the oracle's prophecy true? Fala had never heard of such a thing.

I hope nothing goes wrong.

You better make sure it doesn't. If she manages to come into her powers before I intercept them, then you are doomed, and that includes your little troop.

I know.

It will happen tomorrow, before midnight. Do not be late.

I'll get her there.

And do not renege because you care for the witch.

I have no feelings for her.

Perfect. Keep it that way. Or you will feel firsthand the misery I can lay at your door.

The connection ended abruptly.

Stephen had said he didn't care for her. That hurt more than learning he was in league with Tumseneha.

Anguish flattened her against the mattress. Her body stabbed by the weight of his treachery.

Now she knew with whom Stephen had entered into a blood-binding spell. But why? Was her death also a BOSP directive? Was that why Stephen was helping Tumseneha destroy her? But what ulterior motive could BOSP have? She couldn't imagine a reason why the government would want her destroyed, unless they, too, were working for the underworld.

Fala thought back to when she and Stephen had made love. When she had broken through the blood pact, she'd felt Stephen's aura. His heart wasn't evil, or she would have sensed it. She'd felt only an intense tenderness emanating from him. How could her impressions have been so wrong?

Pain twisted her heart until it felt as if it was being jerked from her chest. Her fingers tightened into fists and she pounded the mattress. Anger burned through the anguish and she welcomed it. A storm of emotion sent her spirit colliding with her human flesh. She felt her skin writhe. Any second the raging feelings would take over
and she'd shift. She had to control it, so she deepened her ragged breaths, stared up at the dark ceiling, her lips trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks and into her ears. She visualized stepping into a calming blue light, where nothing could touch her. She felt her spirit settle, expand, grow still.

But she couldn't stop the questions from haunting her. How could she face him and keep up the charade? And the worst question of all: If it came down to Stephen or her, could she kill him? Why, oh why was she being forced to choose between his life or hers? Were the spirit guides punishing her for loving a man who would never be her mate? Were they teaching her a valuable lesson she would take to her grave? What a cruel lesson. And God help her, but she wasn't sorry for it.

She could never love Akando the same way she loved Stephen. At least she knew what it felt like to love a man with all her heart and soul. She may never have known that feeling but for Stephen. And even if it was bittersweet and fraught with deception, she had felt they shared something special, a once-in-a-lifetime connection. He may have denied it to Tumseneha, but Fala knew in her heart that Stephen cared for her. She'd told him she loved him and he hadn't returned the sentiment, but he'd said it with his body and with his aura. She'd felt it when she'd connected with his spirit while they'd made love, and when he'd opened up to her about his childhood and his uncle, and when she'd seen him race to save Takala from the accident. No, he cared for her, just not enough. His ultimate goal meant more to him than his feelings for her.

Face it, kiddo, he doesn't love you enough. He was a mistake. A big one. Now deal with it.

Fala gulped past the beach-ball-size knot growing in her throat and listened to an eerie silence settle over the house. It crawled into her mind, scraped along the edges of her self-pity. She'd experienced worse things in her life. She'd get through this. Right?

She needed to speak to Meikoda and tell her all. Her grandmother could help Fala beat Tumseneha at his own game.

 

The next morning, Fala listened to the water pipes hiss and knock as Stephen took a shower. She paused from making coffee, gathered her courage, and turned to Meikoda, who was flipping pancakes at the stove. Her grandmother wore a tan corduroy jumper that fell to her ankles, a white long-sleeved shirt and a full apron that touched her knees. It looked as if she'd dressed up for their guest.

“While he's in the shower—” Fala pointed in the direction of the bathroom, unable to use Stephen's name without feeling sick “—I have to tell you something.”

Meikoda turned her keen eyes on Fala. “What is it?”

Fala swallowed her pride and told her grandmother about Stephen's treachery, everything she had heard. She even suffered through Meikoda's severe looks when she had confided about feeling Stephen's spirit while they had made love. She ended with “There, you know everything.”

In a rapid movement that defied her age, Meikoda snapped three pancakes off the iron griddle, then punc
tuated each word with the spatula. “After all you have told me, do you still love him?”

Fala gulped and knew how far she'd fallen in Meikoda's regard in the past few moments. The weakness that caused Fala's next answer would only lower her. Despite that, she nodded and said, “He's torn my heart out, but I still love him. How is that possible?” She blinked away tears that threatened to choke her.

“Tsimshian have the capacity for great love. You do him more honor than he deserves.” Meikoda sighed loudly and let out the air through pursed lips. “It is a pity you did not fall in love with Akando.”

“I'm sorry.” Fala shook her head. “I'll marry him because I'm forced to, but I can't love him.”

“You will carry the sorrow into the marriage and poison it, Fala. You need to let this love go for Mr. Winter, now. It will die with him when he dies.”

The implication in Meikoda's words twisted and tightened and caused an ache in Fala's gut. “I was hoping you could find a way to help me out of this without hurting him.”

“I see no way. He is your enemy.”

“I know.” Fala blew all the air from her lungs and felt her chest sag. “Is it true what the Oracle of Iphled said?”

“I'm sorry to hear that creature is involved.” Meikoda narrowed her eyes, thoughts of Iphled turning them from light blue to dark purple. “She is a cruel beast, and her prophecies cannot be dismissed. See, this is why I wanted you wed before now. Every vile creature in the underworld has a stake in your death.” The leathery skin on Meikoda's brow stretched.

“We can figure a way out of this, right?”

Her grandmother shook her head with conviction. “I cannot help you in this.”

“What do you mean? I can't do this without you.”

“I should have told you this before now.” Meikoda laid down the spatula on the stove and gave Fala her undivided attention.

Meikoda's secretive manner frightened Fala now. What else was coming? Fala stepped back from her grandmother, letting the counter hold up her weight while she braced herself.

Meikoda touched Fala's arm. “I feel for you, I do, but I cannot help you in this.”

“Why not?”

“This is a trial of the heart.”

“What?”

“Every Tsimshian faces it before receiving her powers. It tests your loyalty and strength of character.”

When Fala thought of all the pain she'd endured over the past few days, she wanted to scream with frustration. She didn't want to wake Takala and Nina nor did she want Stephen to hear, so she bit back her rage and spoke through clenched teeth. “Are you telling me this whole thing happened just to test me?”

Meikoda nodded. “It seems so.”

“Oh, my God! How could you not tell me about this?” Fala clamped her mouth shut before she said something she would regret.

“I couldn't. I had prayed since you were little for the Maiden Bear to spare you so great a trial, but it doesn't look as if she has given you a reprieve.”

“No joke.” Fala's breaths turned raw in her throat. Her
next words came out in a strangled cry. “I knew being Guardian was a curse. I just never knew it would be this bad.”

“You will be Tsimshian of the world. It is a big responsibility. It is not for the weak of heart.” Meikoda leveled an assessing glance at Fala. “You must protect all the white magic in the world. I know you can do this. You're stronger than your mother ever was.”

“Am I?” Fala was beginning to doubt herself and all her convictions.
God help me. I don't want to be weak like my mother.

Meikoda's gnarled fingers bit into Fala's arm and her magic crackled along Fala's skin. “You are my granddaughter. You possess more inner strength even than I. Find it and use it, Fala.”

“I'm going to have to kill Stephen and Tumseneha to pass this test, aren't I?”

“It is either that, or die yourself.”

Fala grabbed the sides of her temples because they were throbbing, as if the spirit guides were sticking needles in them. She gazed up at the ceiling, cursing her fate.

Fala heard the water in the bathroom shut off. She wanted to crumble to the floor. To scream out all the injustice that had been heaped upon her. Instead, she found the steel that had always been inside her and she calmly said, “I'm going to take a walk and clear my head. I can't see Stephen. If he asks where I went, tell him you don't know.”

Fala hurried out the back door. The cold gnawed at her face and arms as she broke into a run. She ran as hard as she could along the river, away from the house and
Stephen and everything. She left the river and headed for the woods.

Trees swam before her tears and blurred into browns and reds. Sobs choked her and she couldn't take another step. She tumbled to the ground in a heap and wailed at the heavens, feeling her whole world crashing down on her.

 

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Stephen slipped into Fala's room and asked her to walk with him. He had used the excuse he wanted to be alone with her. He hated every minute of luring her to her death. But what else could he do? He loved his brothers, too.

Fala had seemed distant all day, not herself, and that damned Akando had stuck by her side. This was the first time Stephen had been alone with Fala.

He rubbed the chafed place over his heart left by the charm. It throbbed now, the outline of the bear puffy, red and swollen. He welcomed the pain. He deserved much more for what he was about to do. No doubt, he'd serve his time in hell for it. Wasn't he experiencing his own hell right now? His decision had driven him almost mad. But he'd made his choice.

He squeezed her hand now as they walked down the driveway. She returned the movement weakly. An air of reserve hovered around her. The full moon filled the sky like a dirigible and Fala looked beautiful in its light. Every star was visible and seemed to shine down on her and reflect in her dark hair, glow along her face and slightly pouty lips. He tried to memorize her face, this moment, the soft sounds she made.

He watched the warm cloud of her breath as he said,
“You're quiet. What's wrong?” He hoped she didn't have any idea of his duplicity.

“This is wrong. We shouldn't be walking together.” She met his gaze, the same unmistakable sadness in her eyes that had pulled at him all day tugged at him now. “You know how it ends when we're alone.”

“I know. It's just a walk.” If only it was.

“I guess that's okay if it's our final one.”

Stephen wished that was all it was. “Yes,” he said, wanting to reach out and touch her and make love to her again, feel the warmth of her shift beneath him, burn through this coldness running through his veins. The leather coat he'd borrowed from Takala did little to hold back the night air and a shiver ran through him.

“How far are we going? I'd like to get back.” Fala stopped.