The Guardians (4 page)

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Authors: Katie Ashley

BOOK: The Guardians
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I ducked my head in response, which caused Rafe to continue belting the tune at the top of his lungs. Silently, I wished I’d ridden the bus. Anything would be better than being sung to, especially a love song.

When I shot a helpless glance into the back seat, Cassie shook her head and grinned while Sophie leaned forward in her seat. “You know he’s not going to stop until you give in.”

I looked over at Rafe. “I thought you had football practice this afternoon?”

“Nah, there’s a heat advisory, so we gotta wait until after six.” He grinned wickedly at me. “So you’re stuck with my singing.”

Lucky me.

We trudged in the house from school and went straight to the kitchen to start an early dinner. While I helped Cassie with the salad, Rafe set the table in the dining room and fixed the drinks. We had just sat down when Gabriel rushed through the back door. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Nope, you’re right on time,” Sophie replied, with a smile.

We gathered around the table, and like in an episode from an old sitcom, we ate dinner together.

Gabriel smiled at Cassie and me. “So how was your first day of school?”

I shifted in my seat. I didn’t want to answer him because I didn’t know what to say. So I quickly blurted, “Fine.”

When Rafe snickered, Cassie kicked his leg under the table. “Ow! What did I do?” he demanded.

Gabriel ignored the others’ antics as he focused on me. “I assume you saw your assignment today?”

Swallowing hard, I tried clearing the lump in my throat. “Yes.”

“And?” Gabriel prompted.

At the mere thought of Abby, I flushed from the top of my head down to my neck, and for the life of me, I couldn’t find my voice.

When he saw me floundering, Rafe spoke for me. “She’s fine!”

Gabriel’s brows furrowed. “She was doing okay today?”

Rafe snorted. “No man, fine means she’s pretty.”

“Is that true?” Gabriel asked.

I gave Rafe a withering look before I glanced up at Gabriel. “Uh, yeah, Abby is pretty…,” I tried finding a way to finish the sentence. “But it-it doesn’t mean anything t-to me.”

“Are you sure?” Gabriel asked.

“I’m sure Elijah will be fine,” Sophie piped up.

I smiled thankfully across the table at her before I finally found my voice again. “The Dominion sent me for a reason, and I won’t let them, or any of you guys, down,” I answered.

Gabriel finally seemed satisfied with my answer, so he turned to Cassie. “Anyone spoken to you yet?” he casually asked, as if connecting with a lost soul could be that easy.

Cassie shook her head. “I was thinking about trying out for the fall musical. You know, so I could meet some people.”

“What musical is it?”


West Side Story,
” Cassie answered.

“Oh that sounds wonderful!” Sophie exclaimed.

Gabriel eyed them both. “I’m not so sure about that, Cassie. It’s one thing to use your voice for good like with your volunteer position in the hospital nursery, but I’m not so sure about using it on stage.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Um, it’s
West Side Story,
Gabriel. It’s not like I’m trying out for something like
The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
!”

Rafe snorted behind his napkin. “Good one, Cass.”

Since Gabriel still looked unconvinced, I decided to change the subject. “Um, today at school, I think I saw… Lucius.”

Gabriel’s gaze snapped to mine. “What?”

Rafe shook his head in shock. “Whoa, hold the phone. Lucius as in
the
Lucius? The pain in the neck-social climbing-demon we just had the displeasure of running into in May?”

I nodded.

“But what would he be doing in high school?” Rafe asked.

Shrugging, I said, “The same thing we are. Well, you know, not saving souls but possessing them.”

Cassie cleared her throat. “Um, excuse me for obviously being the newbie guardian aka the only one out of the loop, but who is Lucius?”

When I didn’t answer, Gabriel spoke for me.
“He’s one of the Dark Host—one of Satan’s minions. His job here on earth is basically the same as ours, except they are sent to destroy lives, not save them.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “I kinda gathered that. But why are you guys so freaked about him?”

Rafe looked at me before he spoke. “Well, Gabriel’s description doesn’t quite do Lucius justice. We’re not talking about
just
a demon. He has his eye on the prize so to speak. He’s not into doing all the leg work necessary to make it into the high levels of the Dark Host, so instead, he finds short cuts to earn him points….of course, they’re evil short cuts.”

“Oh, I see,” Cassie murmured. She picked at the tablecloth before speaking again. “And this guy is at our school?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t think so, Cass. I’m not sure the Dark Host would waste such a gem as Lucius on high school.”

When I glanced at Rafe for his support, he sighed. “Maybe it’s just somebody that looked like him or a lesser minion, Jay-Jay.”

“But he threatened us that day.”

“What day?” Cassie asked.

“He was there the day that Victoria Thomas was murdered—he instigated the shooting.”

Cassie’s green eyes widened. “So we possibly have a demon stalker among other things?”

“No, Cassie I don’t think so,” Gabriel answered.

He met my gaze. “But I…I felt him,” I murmured, more for my own benefit than theirs.

Sophie touched my arm reassuringly. “Regardless of whether it’s Lucius or not, we should still keep our eyes and ears for his kind.”

Gabriel nodded. “I agree.” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s about time we got to work.”

I hopped up from the table, glad to abandon the Lucius discussion. Just like other teenagers bagged groceries or flipped burgers to earn a paycheck, we also worked an after-school job. Of course, we didn’t do it for the money. No, our jobs involved helping others. Since the Dominion had assigned Gabriel as a night chaplain at a metro-area hospital, counseling and comforting the sick and their families, they placed Cassie and me there as well.

When I arrived at the hospital, my fan club was ready and waiting for me. Shackled to their IV poles, the terminally ill children of the Pediatric Oncology floor welcomed their superhero—me. But the moment I viewed their expectant faces, I was wracked with guilt. My feelings of confusion consumed me to where I didn’t feel like I had anything to give them. But the kids depended on me, so I forced a broad smile to my face.

Max, an eleven year old in the last stages of cancer, picked up on my mood right away.

“What’s wrong with you today?” he asked.


Nothing
is wrong,” I answered, plastering a fake smile on my face.

Max gave me an odd look. “Yeah right.”

“Just let it go,” I said.

“Is it lady troubles?”

I stifled my laughter at the serious look on Max’s face. After I straightened up, I shook my head. “I appreciate your concern, Max, but I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

We were interrupted when one of the little girls toddled up to me with a rainbow colored wig and red rubber nose in her hands. “Will you do the clown dance for us, Elijah?”

I inwardly groaned. The clown dance was something silly I had invented to break the ice the first day. Every day since then, someone had requested it. “You really want to see the clown dance?” I asked.

“YES!” came the enthusiastic response from everyone.

“All right,” I replied, as I pulled on the wig and stuck on the nose. In the middle of their howling laughter, a jolt of electricity crackled from the top of my head down to my toes.

I felt Abby.

I whirled around and searched the windows of the dayroom. Then I saw her.

She was standing with her younger sister, Hannah. I could feel Abby’s pain and anxiety radiating through the plate glass window. I knew she was there to pick Hannah up from her daily counseling. Since the day of her mother’s murder, Hannah refused to speak—to anyone. Not her father, not Abby, not even the counselors.

Abby must have recognized me through my disguise because she raised her eyebrows and shot me an amused look.

I panicked.

Quickly, I turned around and tried to quiet my emotions. When I finally dared myself to look back, she was gone.

Outwardly, I put on my best clown face, dancing and acting ridiculous. But on the inside, I was on edge the rest of the evening. I found myself constantly battling with the thought of what in the world the Dominion was thinking putting me here.

 

 

 

Chapter Three: CASSIE

 

When I entered the cafeteria on Wednesday, I repelled back from the smell. “Ugh, what is that?”

“That would be lunch,” Elijah replied.

I crinkled my nose in disgust. “Thank goodness we brought ours.”

A slow rain streamed against the windows, denying our usual pilgrimage to the courtyard. “I’m going to get a soda. Want one?” Elijah asked.

I nodded and sat down as he hurried off to the vending machines. I sighed as I unwrapped the contents of my sack lunch complete with manna for dessert. School was becoming pretty uneventful for me. Well, that is if one considered a lab explosion and a brawl in the gym uneventful. Of course, I was a little biased since I’d spent the last year working on disaster relief missions with the Red Cross and Salvation Army. I mean, when you’re more accustomed to earthquakes, tsunamis, and floods, you view the typical high school drama a little differently.

To top it all off, I was still clueless about my lost soul. I tried not questioning the Dominion constantly as to why in the world they had to make my assignment so hard. Seriously, was the ability to seek out my own lost soul really that important? Couldn’t I just get a hint along the way until I got the hang of all this “teenage emotion” and “guardian angel stuff”?

Don’t get me wrong, there were some things I liked about my new assignment. I adored the materialistic side of having my own room and a closet full of clothes. After working in third world countries without the benefit of running water, electricity, and sometimes even shelter, made me appreciate the little things. Like every morning when I turned on the faucet or shower and saw the stream of clear, crystal water, I raised my head to the heavens and mouthed, “Thank you!”

But as for all the new emotions coursing through me…well, to put it bluntly, they sucked. Suddenly things that never occurred to me before were vitally important. I’d never spent much time in front of a mirror, but now I drowned myself in my image like a crazed narcissist. The bag I once filled with first-aid supplies now brimmed with lip-gloss, mascara, and hair products. Of course the more I catered to my appearance, the more reaction I received from Harrison’s hormonally charged male population. In the end, I was getting used to the daily whistling and cat-calls. I probably enjoyed them a little more than I should have.

Just as Elijah arrived back with our drinks, Rafe dropped his lunch down on the table and slid into a seat beside me.

His tray overflowed with a menagerie of different foods. I looked quizzically at him. “So, what happened to hating cafeteria food?”

He inhaled half of a ham and cheese sub sandwich before he answered me. “Football practice.”

I grinned. “So this is a force feeding situation?”

“Well,” he mumbled through a mouthful of creamed potatoes, “this time I came prepared.” He held up his bottle of honey.

“Ah, I see.”

And then it happened.

At the most inopportune time and in the middle of the cafeteria reeking of Sloppy Joe’s, my lost soul
finally
called to me.
His
pain was palpable. It reached its icy fingers across the packed cafeteria to pierce my heart. With my back to the crowd, I slowly swiveled around as the world crawled to a stop.

He slouched in his chair, surrounded by a rag-tag group of formidable friends—a mixture of some of the so-called “untouchables” of the high school caste system. Piercings, hair dyed the colors of the rainbow, heavily charcoaled eyes, and outfitted entirely in black.

But he stood out from them.

He appeared almost like a poser, a preppie kid hiding out under the security of an emo kid’s pain. Dark haired and dark eyed, he scribbled in a notebook. In other clothes and with an attitude adjustment, he could have passed for a model. He wore black jeans and a black AC/DC t-shirt over a long sleeved white shirt. Concealed underneath the white ribbed shirt, bruises pulsed in angry violets and yellows along his arms, evidence of his step-father’s drunken rage.

Of course, only I could see them. I saw both the bruises and the pain because I was so connected with him. And because of those marks he fought so hard to conceal, I had never felt so connected with anyone before. I longed to ease his suffering and make things better for him.

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