Daughter of Earth (Tales of the Guardian) (23 page)

“Dante allowed Alexander a rare glimpse of the truth. Something not many are privileged to see. Perhaps you would like to see what Alexander saw, to know what he now knows?” Sandros offered as he reached his arm out toward her.

His hand crept in slow motion. Something inside Emily was screaming, an unease telling her not to let Sandros touch her, not to let him show her the vision. But he offered a juicy temptation. Even if it was a lie as Alexander had said, she wanted to know what he had seen. She was torn between knowing what was right, and what enticed her.

It was her core that was churning inside. Sending pulses through each nerve she possessed. Her mind moved quickly enough to evaluate the turmoil.

Sandro’s fingers were only inches from Emily’s hand and in that instant she reacted.

“No,” Emily said firmly as she pulled her hand back, taking a step in the same direction. Beforehand she had felt cemented to the ground, yet now she could feel the movement returning to each of her limbs, like the tin man getting oiled up, one joint at a time.

Sandros’ face showed his surprise. A vision could not be forced on anyone, they had to accept it and want it, even if it was only a partial approval on their behalf. But a firm no was all that was needed to block his attempt at delivering a vision.

“That is fine. I thought you might be interested in seeing for yourself,” he paused, letting out a deep sigh. “You see Emily, I very well may be your enemy, but at least I will admit to my nature, and my intentions. You cannot say the same about Guardians.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she felt the hypnotic effects wearing off with each second, she glanced over her shoulder to see if Rob was any better. He looked glazed over and stood motionless.

She returned her attention to Sandros as he stepped toward her again, closing the gap she’d created a moment ago with her glide backward.

“Think for a moment, Emily. Guardians claim to be the protectors of men, yet they pick and choose who lives and dies, they choose when to intervene and when to stand back and watch humans suffer.”

“That’s not true. Alexander doesn’t make those choices.”

Sandros let a quiet gurgle escape, his version of a scoff. “Oh, really? If Guardians have no power over their actions, then how was it Alexander came to have a relationship with you? Aren’t Guardians forbidden from falling in love, from revealing their true nature to humans? If Alexander is exempt from one law, then how can you say he is not exempt from all of them? The real question is whether there are any laws at all? Or are they all just a mask to hide Guardians’ true intentions?”

Sandro’s question was like a slap to the face. Was he implying Guardians were all liars?

“Alexander is special, our relationship is unique.” Emily retorted but did not carry the conviction she’d intended.

“Is he unique? Is your relationship really some anomaly? Or is it all just a game, a manipulation for the Guardians to acquire what they really need. What are they asking from you, Emily? Isn’t the only reason they require you is to fulfill the needs of their own kind? Do you really think you’re the first to fall for their trickery?” Sandros slowly shook his head, “Sometimes the greatest deception is evil surrounded by sweetness and flowers and good manners. If one sees a sparkling crystal goblet they will assume the wine within is sweet and delectable, yet the decorative glass is only a deathly deception. Instead, it can hide and house a venom that sits silently within, awaiting its next victim.”

“I …. no…. that’s wrong,” Emily fumbled with her words. She couldn’t piece her thoughts together; she’d been caught completely off guard.

A rueful smile began to spread across the Ancient One’s face. He could tell his thoughts had penetrated on some level, so he pushed on with his emotional assault.

“Why should Guardians be the ones to decide who to save and who not? Why have they taken a seat at a throne that is not rightfully theirs? They pretend to play God, yet do it according to their personal desires and will. How could the type of being they profess to be, sit back and watch people suffer, watch good honest humans painfully die…. like your mother.” He let his words sink in and then continued. “Of course, Alexander would not fess up that he let her die. To say it was not in his power to keep her alive was an easy way out, so why wouldn’t he say it?”

Emily felt like the wind had been knocked from her lungs. Her mother’s death was still difficult to even think about. She was cheated and wronged when her mother died. Seeing all the pain her mother went through scarred her deeply. It was something she convinced herself she’d come to terms with, but, in reality, each mention of her mother reopened the wound on some level, even if just a little.

“You’re just saying that to upset me, to try and play with my thoughts,” she mumbled.

Rob suddenly stirred, wakening from his statue-like state and blinking hard. Emily could relate. She’d experienced that same feeling of capture and release twice now under the influence of the Ancient Ones.

Coming to was a bit disorienting.

Rob placed his hand on Emily’s shoulder, “Let’s go. Now.” Rob glanced at Sandros. “Now, Emily!”

“No, she’s not done yet. She obviously needs a little more convincing,” Sandros addressed Rob but he did not take his eyes away from Emily’s.

“I’m calling the cops.” Rob turned to stand directly in front of Sandros, who effortlessly dwarfed him. But Rob showed no fear; something had finally clicked in him. Rob had been pushed and bullied too far.

“We’re leaving.” Rob said firmly. He turned to grab Emily’s arm but was stopped by Sandros’ massive hand suddenly slamming into his chest.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this Emily, but you leave me no choice. Now I must demonstrate exactly what I am talking about. You have forced my hand.” Sandros curled his fingers tightly around a fistful of Rob’s shirt, jerking him in closely.

“Get your hands off him!” Emily yelled. Instant panic flooded her nerves as she lunged for Rob’s shoulders, trying to pull him away from the Ancient One.

Rob was now like a slice of meat in a sandwich between the two of them. He placed his own hands against Sandros’ chest shoving himself away. But the Ancient One’s grip on his shirt was like stone and the elasticity of his clothes acted like a bungee cord, pulling Rob directly back toward his captor.

Then Emily heard it, a sick grunting sound and she felt the muscles in Rob’s shoulder suddenly tense and then go limp.

Pulling with all her strength she yanked Rob backward, but Sandros released his grasp. The sudden freedom caught her off guard.

The two of them tumbled to the ground with Rob landing awkwardly on top of her. She could hear his wet gargles and choking as she scrambled to pull herself from under him trying to free her legs from the dead weight of his body.

Sandros loomed over them like a spectator. The scene before him didn’t affect his expression.

The light from above was dim but the bloodstain from Rob’s chest wound was bright.

Glancing around desperately, Emily searched for anyone nearby. It was Central Park, surely someone else was there.

“Help! Someone! Help!” She screamed, placing her hand over the bleeding wound.

But, pressure would not help his injury. Rob wasn’t bleeding to death, he was choking to death. Sandros had stabbed him directly in his lung, twisting the blade to speed the process.

“Why are the Guardians not here, Emily? Why is Rob’s life of no value to them?” Sandros circled the pair slowly. “Didn’t he have a bright future? Wasn’t he a wonderful person? Certainly he had some amazing role to play in life.”

Rob coughed, spitting blood at Emily as she hung her head directly over his face. She wasn’t watching Sandros, her eyes were directly on Rob’s. Her muscles trembled in fear.

This situation was all too familiar.

“You’re not going to die, Rob,” Emily whispered. She then raised her head to the sky and shouted once more, “Help, someone help us!”

“Guardians aren’t coming, Emily. Because they don’t care. Alexander is probably going to be relieved to see his competition taken out.”

Emily glanced up to look at the Ancient One. It was hard to see his face clearly but it didn’t appear as she anticipated.

She’d expected to see those deep black eyes, and all of his beauty gone, just as it had been with Dante. Instead he held a look of compassion, or possibly even sadness, as if he was not the cause of this problem, like he wished somehow things were different.

“I tried to tell you Emily, Guardians are not what you think they are. They are not saviors of mankind. They are simply puppet masters pulling the strings when they deem fit.”

A group of voices was approaching, the chatter was frantic. They’d obviously heard Emily’s cry for help and could see two people curled up on the ground.

Sandros looked Rob over one last time and then his gaze fell intensely on Emily.

“You may want to figure out whose team you’re really playing on. It would be wise to find out if that goblet truly has sweet wine within it… or deathly venom. Evil can take many forms and is easily hidden among the good, for that is where it can manipulate and torment without detection or recompense.” He gave a sympathetic grin and then vanished.

The sound of the metal blade dropping to the ground echoed in Emily’s ears. She looked back down at Rob, his eyes had closed and she could no longer hear his struggled breathing.

Giving a slight shake she expected to see him startle but instead he lay still.

“No, Rob, don’t do this, don’t die. You’re not supposed to die…not because of me.”

Three men had arrived and immediately swarmed, quickly assessing the situation. One man was on his cell phone disclosing their location.

“Is he breathing?” he asked, pausing in his conversation to speak with his friend that was feeling for Rob’s pulse.

“I don’t think so,” the other man shook his head.

“Lady? Hey, Lady. What happened?”

“Dude, do you know CPR?” The man on the phone asked frantically.

The men’s conversation wasn’t even audible to Emily.

She felt dazed and unaware of everything around her. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

In one split second Rob had been stabbed, and she didn’t do anything to stop it. She’d not been able to intervene. In fact, no one had been there to intervene.

There hadn’t been any bystanders. There hadn’t been any Guardians.

Rob’s blood would forever be on Emily’s hands.

The thought had now planted itself like a seed packed deeply into soil rich with hatred, regret, doubt and mistrust. It was the perfect ground for growing, the perfect ground to spread its roots and take hold.

Chapter 17

The grey sky outside reflected how Emily was feeling on the inside; dark, foggy and without a ray of hope.

Mindlessly, she gazed out the giant windows across from her, her legs pulled into her chest, squeezing them tightly like a teddy bear that refused to offer real comfort. Her mind kept going over the events that had transpired only a few hours ago.

Today was Rob’s funeral. The memorial service had been almost two hours long with over a hundred people in attendance. So many people knew Rob and had loved him.

The worst moment for Emily was when she glanced to the pew where his family sat. Rob’s father held his arms outstretched to both sides, trying to surround his large family in his comforting embrace but his reach was not long enough. Rob had five siblings and had boasted the fact. It was his youngest brother who sat outside of the father’s grasp. He appeared to be about 9 or 10 and refused to raise his head to look up.