The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series) (5 page)

             
“We have been looking for this weapon for hundreds of years now, Callista. And today we have found you. You might be—well, we don’t understand exactly
what
you are. But I am willing to strike a deal with you, so to speak. I will give you what you want, in exchange for your cooperation,” he said.

             
“What are you talking about?” she asked, beginning to grow uncomfortable. The fatigue had exhausted the fear and anger in her; now, she simply felt awkward, like an outsider. “Did you put something in my drink?” she asked dazedly, looking around for the small woman.

             
“Callista, focus. There is not much time,” the dark-haired man said. She suddenly found his voice intriguing. Low, like a murmur, but authoritative and commanding. And now, as the sun was beginning to set, his eyes looked almost pale blue. “If you allow us to study you, if you consider helping us, then you have my solemn word that we will return you safely to your sister as soon as we are through. You would have to promise us your silence, of course, and we would obviously monitor that promise. However, other than these demands, I do not see why you would not be able to continue leading your life as before. If we can simply use you to hold this army at bay, we will be more than happy to help you.”

             
Callie fought back a dopey smile. “
You
? Want to study
me
?” she asked, finding this somewhat hilarious. “You have
wings
!”

             
“Yes, we do. Do we have a deal?” he asked soberly, unfazed by her belligerence.

             
She swallowed, slipping back into serious thought for the moment. “What if I refuse?” she asked. “What if I don’t want to be a lab rat?” She leaned forwards, enunciating each new word with care. “What if I just want to get the hell away from you freaks?”

             
The dark-haired man looked at her calmly, not flinching under her scrutiny. “Well, you see, we have strict rules with regards to dealing with security threats. I am sure you are aware of these rules by now. And, frankly, we’d really like to avoid the mess.”

             
Callie felt fear well up as, for the first time that night, she saw cruelty behind the placid face. She knew what her fate would be if she refused them. What was worse, he
knew
that she understood. He was just biding his time until he got his way.

             
Leaning forward, the man propped his elbows on his knees, and now looked upon her sympathetically. “You see, Callista, my way, everybody wins. This is really the best option for you at this point. So may I assume we have a deal?”

             
She glared at him. Her hatred was still foggy now, but more present, pressing up through the drug-induced haze with fury. If she could have, she would have slapped him. But she knew that he was stronger, and she knew that she would likely pass out at any moment.

             
“Do I have a choice?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

             
He smiled as though he were a friend, and, patting her knee, he stood up. She looked down at her feet, unwilling to let him see the hot tears upon her eyelids.

             
“That’s alright,” he said, stepping over to the doorway. “I am positive that, in time, you will come to regard us as good people, and you will be more willing to help us. We may even become friends.”

             
Callie choked at the suggestion, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.

             
“But I am sure that you’re very tired now,” he said, and she could have strangled him for reminding her of the power he had over her, of the way that he had drugged her without her even knowing. “I will let you rest. Tomorrow we will begin to get to know one another. But for tonight, you will stay with the Healer. Shay?” he asked. “Will you make up the couch for our guest, please?”

             
Callie looked to her left and saw the tiny woman reappear, nodding at the man’s request. The man stood in the doorway, looking curiously at Callie for the moment. At his left, there was a movement, and Callie saw the other man, the blond man, whom she had almost forgotten about.

             
He stood in the shadows again, eyeing her cautiously, and again Callie felt as though she were some circus animal, on display for everyone to watch. But this notion was suppressed for a moment as that eerie glimpse of something familiar flashed again, and she narrowed her eyes at the blond man in suspicion. As she watched him, he looked momentarily surprised, and Callie wondered if he had felt it, too.

             
But then, intimidated, Callie averted her eyes and looked at the ground.

             
“Sleep well, Callista,” the dark-haired man said. She wondered once again how he knew her name. The rustle of wind drew her attention upward just in time for her to witness him leap out of the door, into the air, and catch himself on outstretched wings. She gasped as she watched him soar into the trees, disappearing behind the branches and leaves in a matter of seconds.

             
The blond man followed soon after, but only after pinning Callie with another unnerving glance. Callie watched him leave with awe, unable to comprehend the picture before her. It was almost graceful, the way their wings, like a bird’s, maneuvered through space, undulating fluidly and filling the sky with feathers.

             
But the shock could only last so long. Once the men were out of view, the tears returned, barely giving warning before rushing down her face once more.

             
She couldn’t understand what had just happened, what was
still
happening. It felt like a nightmare, like some hellish dream from which she couldn’t wake up. She sat in the chair because she couldn’t stand up; she needed to stand up because she needed to leave; she couldn’t leave because she was trapped in some fairy-tale tower in the forests of Australia. Only it wasn’t a fairy tale; it was a horror story.

             
A picture of Maggie seeped into her clouded mind. What would she make of all of this? Would she even notice that Callie was gone? Would she only realize her sister’s absence when there was no one to wipe her mouth at night, or to put her to bed, or to bring her a glass of water when she woke up and was sick? Callie began to doubt that Maggie could survive another loss. The first two had nearly killed her.

             
The woman walked away from Callie then, leaving the room. Callie wiped her eyes on her wrists, having forgotten until that moment that there was another person present. But she needn’t have bothered to hide the tears. The woman didn’t even spare her a glance.

             
She looked behind her. The couch which she had noticed before was now made up with two long pillows and a cotton blanket. A fit of exhaustion consumed her at the sight, and she forced herself to stand up and trudge, barely seeing anything around her, over to the couch. She collapsed atop the blanket and pillows with a sigh and a sniffle, her heart sinking when she realized that this was where she would spend the night.

             
Maggie’s face stared at her in her mind’s eye. She needed to get back home. The longer she stayed away, the more likely Maggie was to fall apart.

             
The thoughts were crossing her mind at a sluggish pace now, and soon disappeared completely. Callie rolled into the couch, nestling into the deep cushions, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before the darkness consumed her.

              When Callie woke up, she didn’t recognize the white tweed in front of her. She ran her fingers along the bumpy fabric, trying to make sense of it. She rolled over, realizing briefly that she was on a couch.

             
The wooden floor was what did it. As soon as she saw those planks, the memories of last night swooped into her mind with stunning clarity, and she felt a swift moment of panic. Her muscles froze, contracting in horror, as she replayed the scenes. She groaned and rolled further onto her other side, facing away from the back of the couch. And then she winced when she remembered that she actually had to cooperate with these…whatever they were called. They still didn’t seem real.

             
But she wasn’t short on reminders of their existence. Almost as soon as she had rolled onto her side, she gasped.

             
There, standing against the wall, was the blond man from last night. He was in the same stance which he’d been in the last time she had seen him, his arms folded, his face expressionless. He leaned backwards against the wooden panels, watching her, always watching her.

             
Self-conscious and startled, Callie drew the blanket around her as a sort of shield. His expression didn’t change; he barely blinked. This lack of emotion evoked traces of anger left over from the night before, every piece of which was now solely focused upon him.

             
“Do you make a habit of creeping up on people?” she snapped. He didn’t reply. She saw that he hadn’t changed his clothes, at least not that she could tell. He still wore a pair of white, loose-fitting pants which hung down to his ankles. No shirts were allowed in this rainforest, apparently, as he still wasn’t wearing one of those. After a few moments, Callie sighed and rubbed her forehead in resignation, remembering Maggie’s face.

             
She stood up, wrapping the blanket around her, and leveled him with a determined glare. He stood like a statue, regarding her every movement with interest. “Alright,” she said in a less than friendly tone of voice. “I’ll help you. But the moment, and I mean the
second
that I am finished, you take me right back home. Deal?”

             
“That sounds like an excellent plan,” came a masculine voice. Only it wasn’t the voice of the man in front of her.

             
Callie turned and saw the dark-haired man perched in the doorway, folding his wings behind him as he strode into the room. She flinched, and watched as he circled a counter on the far end of the room. “Alexander,” he said, moving lithely across the space. “I trust your errand went well?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blond man nod once.

             
She hadn’t realized before that there was anything to the small room other than the minimally decorated living space, but now she saw that the entire far corner was sectored off by marble counters and high chairs, and beyond that was a little kitchenette. The man now walked into that kitchen and poured himself a mug of what looked to be coffee. He glanced up and found her watching him.

             
“Am I being rude?” he asked.

             
She didn’t answer, confused. He lifted the coffee pot in explanation.

             
“Would you like some?” he clarified.

             
She shook her head, unwilling to risk drinking anything else that these people gave her, though she did desperately want a cup of coffee. The man smirked, seeming to see through her reasoning, and walked towards her with his own steaming mug in hand.

             
“What is it that I’m supposed to do?” she asked suspiciously, drawing the blanket more tightly around her.

             
He paused, startled by the question, and abruptly began to laugh. Callie was taken aback by the sound; it was so…carefree. So unexpected.

             
“Callista,” he said, the friendly companion once more, “you make this sound as though we are punishing you. Do not misunderstand—you are doing us a favor, a fact that we fully recognize and appreciate. You will not be forced to do anything with which you are uncomfortable.”

             
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Callie asked, feeling the urge to be obnoxious.

             
The smile wavered. “Yes, you are. To answer your question, I thought that we would start with a brief history today. Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself? It may help to give us some insight as to why you have this special talent.”

             
“Hang on a second,” Callie said, holding up one hand. “First of all, how do you know my name?”

             
For a moment, the man’s smile disappeared completely. But then his expression was smooth again, and he offered, “How about you begin with your side of the story, and then we’ll tell you ours?”

             
“What do you mean, your side?” Callie asked. The man maintained his docile expression, apparently having ignored the question. He stood, waiting for her to continue. Callie sighed, and went to sit down again. She needed the support.

             
Once she was sitting cross-legged on the couch, the blanket hanging from her shoulders, she looked up at the men and shrugged. “I don’t have much to tell, I guess. I’m a senior in high school. I live in California. Which, can I just point out, is so far away from Australia, I can’t even believe—“