Blood of the Guardian (5 page)

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Authors: Kristal Shaff

BOOK: Blood of the Guardian
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Greer placed a hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “Search inside yourself. You might find the differences rather interesting. I am certain you will come to the same conclusion: Shay powers are far superior.” Greer’s smile faded, and his eyes clouded over, as if looking at an event far away. “We were easy to destroy when Alcandor turned the humans against us.”

Nolan knew Greer was referring to the history of the Battle of the Demons. Legends told of a time when Alcandor saved the land from a demon attack, when in actuality, it had been Alcandor’s attempt to inflict revenge on the Guardians for being thrown from their ranks.

Nearly all the Guardians had died. Those who survived ran for their lives. A few months ago, the remaining Guardians didn’t even know each other existed. Sanawen and Malik, the other two Guardians, waited for their return in Faylinn.

Greer grunted and pointed at the ceiling, obviously changing the subject. “We cannot leave the stones. I will find Alec to retrieve them and meet you at the inn.”

Chapter Five

 

NOLAN LAY IN BED, eyes wide open. Two weeks of unconsciousness didn’t help him sleep. He rolled onto his side, and moonlight shone annoyingly through the shards of fabric disguised as a window covering. He squeezed his eyes tighter, but it was no use. Why did it have to be such a bright night?

A roar of laughter boomed from the pub. Nolan inhaled and released an exaggerated sigh. His mind wandered, first to Alec—he missed their friendship. Forcing Alec onto a boat wouldn’t heal the strain between them.

Then he considered Megan and her strange illness. He doubted he could do anything, but at least he’d be there to try.

His thoughts drifted to the earlier conversation with Greer. If he could read minds and not absorb pain and injury when healing, what other things could a Guardian do? And, most importantly, could Nolan tap into those same powers? After all, he had Guardian powers, too. He closed his eyes, focusing on his inner Shays; they pulsed inside him.

Shifting his search, he touched on something else, an energy different than his Shays. It pulsed softly, similar to the warmth that spreads after sipping a strong drink.

Maybe Greer was right. Perhaps the Shays overpowered the Guardian abilities. But now that Nolan focused on them, they were obvious, like a huge, glaring blemish on your face. The Guardian part felt wrong somehow.

Inhuman.

Nolan shuddered, turned from the window, and pulled the thin blanket over his eyes. It yanked from his feet, sending a chill up his spine. Grumbling, he unfastened the blanket around his waist, wrenched it from underneath him, and threw it over his feet and legs. It would do no good as clothing now; better to block the breeze leaking through the sorry excuse for a window.

Another round of laughter sounded below, this time joined with the cackle of the buxom barmaid. He shook his head, wondering how anyone slept here. Maybe these rooms weren’t used for sleeping.

He squeezed his eyes tighter. He shouldn’t think about such things, especially with Lieutenant Connelly in the next room. He tried not to think of her in that way, but she hadn’t helped much. Her eyes drifted over him every time they talked. And her mind … he didn’t even want to think about her emotions. She
knew
he sensed her, but she didn’t seem to care or even try to hide it. The more he thought about it, the more he realized she would probably welcome a visit … if Nolan only asked.

Nolan cursed. Now he sounded like Kael! Even if she agreed (which she just might), he shouldn’t. How could he? She deserved better than to be treated like a tavern wench.

The laughing continued downstairs. He awakened his Perception and focused on where Kat slept. By the rhythm of her breathing and heartbeat, she was still awake. Lying there. Possibly thinking of him.

Nolan groaned. She was so … so …
distracting
.

Women had desired him before—well, at least
one
woman. The duke’s wife had made advances. Nolan’s first inclination was to just disappear, to be invisible. As a scribe for the Duke of Alton, he had gotten his wish. His dark and deserted corner of the manor made it easy to hide. The duke’s wife never ventured down there.

He had considered the duke’s wife’s advances to be a matter of circumstance. She was young and attractive. Old, balding, and weighing as much as two men put together, the duke couldn’t keep her attention. His wife flirted with Nolan because she had nothing else.

Nolan ran his hand over his chest, feeling the defined muscles. Sometimes he struggled to believe they were his own. Sure, he had made progress when he’d trained with Alec, when he was still a normal young man. He’d been proud of how he’d looked then; he had worked hard and had earned it. Now, he was transformed into something few could attain, muscles that would normally take a lifetime of effort. He deceived others, just as the Talasians hid emotions behind a false indifference. He, too, wore a mask. His body—along with his powers—didn’t belong to him.

Nolan crawled into his personal misery. One would think being more powerful than even Alcandor would be a good thing. Nolan, however, preferred blending in. With this nightforsaken body,
that
would never happen again.

A thump, then a crash sounded from the room next door. Nolan jumped out of bed, focused his Perception, and heard the telltale sounds of conflict, including a small cry from Kat.

He jumped up, all the powers of the Shay exploding from him at once. Without knocking, he rushed Kat’s door, exploding it into the room with his combined Strength and Speed. All four people inside fell as splinters impaled them. It was at that moment Nolan took in his surroundings.

Three drunken men had made the grievous mistake of trying to take advantage of Kat. Two were partially bound, covered in small sword slashes, looking as if they wished they’d made a different decision.

The third man, who Kat had been fighting at the time of Nolan’s over-zealous entrance, now cursed and thrashed on the floor with a large wooden spike piercing his thigh.

Kat unsettled Nolan the most. She glared at Nolan as she yanked a large fragment from her shoulder, another from her side, and one from her calf.

“My lord Emissary!” she said. “Thank you, but I had it under control.”

Nolan blinked. She was right, of course. Those pathetic drunks stood no chance against her.

She limped over to the man on the ground. In a not-so-kind way, she dislodged the offending spike, sending the man into another round of profanity.

“Shut your mouth,” she ordered, “or else I’ll shove the ruddy thing back in.”

The man did as he was told.

Kat flung the bloody piece aside and limped to Nolan, her face set in a deep scowl. Blood soaked through her fingers where she held her hand over her arm.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” she said with controlled rage, “heal me, please.”

Nolan didn’t say anything, but he hesitated, trying to figure out where it would be best to put his hand. He needed to touch skin, and the most convenient (and least intrusive) spot would be her cheek. However, he had the odd sensation one gets as they contemplate petting a dog and fearing it will bite.

Kat sighed and yanked her shirt open to reveal her shoulder. “Please, my lord.” She met his eyes, and her features softened.

He forced a faint smile. “Of course.” Then, tentatively, he placed his hand on her.

His Healing responded instantly, and he warmed as the green light blazed from his eyes. Healing energy pulsed down through his arm into her shoulder. She trembled, and her head tilted, her lips parting.

Nolan barely noticed the stab of pain as he absorbed her wounds; her expression mesmerized him. Straight, white teeth peeked from her open lips. Long lashes. Short brown hair with subtle curls. He surfaced a touch of Empathy to feel her emotions.

Longing and pleasure washed over her. Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him, eyes wide. Grabbing his hand, she held it in place. Her green and yellow eyes searched his face, as if she wanted to say something but didn’t dare.

“What?” Nolan asked. His large palm warmed in hers.

She shook her head, her emotions radiating too many things to pinpoint just one.

“Kat?”

She pressed her lips together in defiance, refusing to answer.

A throat cleared behind them.

Nolan turned, yanking his hand from hers. Alec stood a few steps into the room, a package tucked under his arm, and his eyebrows raised as far as they could go.

“Um … Sorry,” Alec said. “I heard a commotion.” He started backing out of the room. “I would shut the door, but it’s … ”

Nolan noticed the drunks had seized the opportunity and fled. He blinked as realization swept over him. He’d removed his makeshift garment in bed, and he’d forgotten to put it back on.
Ah, crows!
Heat rose to his neck and face.

Kat yanked her own blanket off her bed and handed it to him, her cheeks flushing.

“So we can talk in the morning, eh?” Alec said, smirking.

“Wait!” Nolan blurted. “It’s not what you think.”

Alec snorted and held his palms toward him. “It’s none of my business.”

Nolan tied the woolen blanket around his waist. “There were some men in here. I had only come to help.”

“More men?” Alec’s smile widened. “Lieutenant Connelly, I had no idea you were that kind of girl.”

Kat’s face abruptly went from pink to red. Her anger ignited like a forge coal. She summoned her Speed, and her eyes flared golden yellow.

“Wait!” Alec said in mock fear. “I saw them leaving when I came in. Greer is talking to them about how stupid they were.”

“I think they’ve figured that out already.” Nolan scowled. “Wasn’t it your turn to watch the gypsy?”

The mirth on Alec’s face fell.

“Alec?” Kat said. “Where is she?”

“Um. Not sure.”

“You’re not sure?” Nolan said. “I asked you to watch her for a couple hours. What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“The noise up here got everyone’s attention. She only just slipped away.”

Kat cursed and shoved her uniform on over her nightclothes. “She probably hasn’t gone too far.”

“I’ll take a look outside.” Alec turned to leave then stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He tossed Nolan the bundle he’d been holding. “I bought these off a big guy. They might be a bit short but should work otherwise.”

Nolan unfolded the bundle: a stained pair of breeches.

Kat shoved by Alec out the door. “Come on.”

Nolan didn’t know whether to be grateful for the clothes or annoyed at Alec for not giving them to him when he first came in.

The golden-yellow light of Speed flared in Alec’s eyes. “Better get going before—”

“Alec!” Kat scolded from the hall.

Alec rolled his eyes. “Too late.” Then, saying nothing more, he shot away.

Nolan breathed a sigh of relief and unfastened the wool blanket.

Some muttered whispers sounded at the door. A group of people, probably bar-goers, were too curious to restrain themselves any longer and had wandered upstairs, peering through the opening. Horror emanated from them when they saw Nolan. A scurrying sound followed as they disappeared.

“Oh, for Brim’s sake,” Nolan murmured. He stepped into the hallway in time to see another pair of drunks make their way up the stairs.

Nolan ignored their panicked faces and turned toward his own room. He entered and closed the door, submerging himself in the semi-darkness, thankful for the solitude once again.

He let the blanket drop from his waist and stepped into his newly adopted clothes. They didn’t smell so good, but at that moment, he didn’t care. As he pulled them up, a voice joined him in the darkness.

“No need to put those on for me.” A light flickered to life.

The gypsy girl held the flame in her hand and brought it to the lamp on the side table. Nolan blinked, adjusting to the light.
What magic is this?
As the lantern flickered brighter, he saw a small twig in her hand. She shook out the flame.

“How’d you do that?” Nolan asked.

She smiled. “The plants of our world hold all sorts of properties. One only needs to learn which ones to combine.”

“You can make fire?”

She shrugged.

“Why are you here, gypsy?”

“It’s Jezebelle,” she said as her bottom lip jutted in a pout. “If you order me around like a slave, the least you can do is order me by name.” Jezebelle closed the distance to him. “They call you Emissary. Why?” She touched his chest.

He caught her wrist. “Why are you here?”

“Why do you think? Isn’t it obvious?”

He summoned his Empathy and dug into her mind. Desire lingered, but something else hid behind it, something he couldn’t quite place. “No. Why
else
are you here?”

A flare of anger spiked in her emotions, as well as apprehension.

A quick rap sounded on his door before it opened. Alec pushed inside, a deep scowl on his brow.

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