Kalindra (GateKeepers) (5 page)

He inhaled, ready to rail at her, especially since she hadn’t stopped laughing. But then he stopped. The smile she threw his way drew him in until he felt included in the laughter. She wasn’t laughing at him. Well, okay, she was. But she was laughing at his ignorance, not his stupidity. And that knowledge alone allowed him to loosen up and smile in the face of her amusement.

“I take it that’s a no then?”

“Oh goodness, you are refreshing. No, I cannot read your emotions, unless you count pure observation. Your eyes were full of guilt.” Her laughter stopped and the smile dropped from her face. “What makes you guilty, Cameron?”

His own smile fell away. Should he tell her about the shard? He could give it to her. Who better to protect it than one of the legendary gatekeepers?

If he told her about it, she’d demand he hand it over. No doubt about it. But his grandfather’s dying words drifted back to him.

You know the joy of this world. You understand why it must be protected from the likes of them. Trust no one of their world. And when you can no longer protect it, find a human worthy of the job.

Could he trust her? Surely a gatekeeper was different than the average creature from Outremer. But what if she died? Could the shard fall into enemy hands then? If she failed her duty, would it matter? Their world would be exposed. How long until the next gatekeeper took her place?

No, he couldn’t hand over the shard. Not yet. Right now, the shard was his to protect. His responsibility. He had an obligation to weigh the decision whether or not to hand it over. To decide if it was in the best interest of the shard. And if it was, he’d do what must be done for the sake of all mankind.

First, he needed answers. Needed to be sure that it would be the right thing. Those answers would take time and careful observation.

Guess that meant for the time being, he wasn’t going anywhere. Whether or not she tried to keep him here, he was sticking around.

Chapter 3

The smell of tomato and basil, mixed with the unmistakable scent of frying beef, had Cameron’s mouth watering. Hard to believe he’d been here almost a week already.

At first, he worried he’d be bored, or that the harpy would be less than friendly. But he quickly discovered nothing about her or this place was what it seemed.

Any number of things needed to be done. On the outside, the castle seemed like nothing more than vine-covered ruins, surrounded by an overgrown hedged fence, a trick to keep outsiders away. Inside, it was cheery and warm. Which didn’t mean there wasn’t work to be done. He was surprised it wasn’t more like the ruins on the outside, considering all the repairs needed.

After the first few days, when she’d pushed him with questions he’d pretended not to know the answers to, he and Kali had become friendly. More than friendly. He actually liked her. Trust her? Maybe not. He’d learned enough to know her first priority was and always would be the gate. She’d kill him without a second thought, if he stood in the way of her duty. Not that he had any intention of doing so.

Still, his first impression had been completely off. She wasn’t just some mindless killing machine. Far from the monster he’d accused her of being.

Kali had a dry wit that never failed to make him smile. She was dedicated to her duty. More often than not, when he’d go searching for her, he’d find her training. A different weapon every day.

Watching her with them fascinated him. Sometimes she’d be in her harpy form, learning to wield different instruments with her claws. But more often than not, he’d catch her training as human. “Need to be ready for anything,” she’d told him on one such occasion.

The sight was truly something to behold, and whenever he came upon it, he found himself glued to the floor, riveted as he watch her strike at the air and retreat. She seemed to be an expert at whatever weapon she picked up, each becoming an extension of her body as if made to be there.

The image of her twirling a scythe as she’d trained earlier was still fresh in his mind–really, who fought with a scythe?–as he turned the corner into the kitchen.

There she was, leaning over a pot on the stove while oil popped in the frying pan next to it. Already some meatballs were cooling on a paper towel.

But even his growling stomach held no match to the sight of her pert behind pressing against the material of her pants as she bent over. God, the woman had a magnificent ass. All that training had certainly paid off.

“Ouch.” Her hand flew up as she jumped away from the stove.

He rushed over, grabbing the hand she’d pulled to her chest.

“What happened?” He examined her arm.

She tried to pull it away from him, but he wasn’t having any of that. She could get away if she really wanted to. Could strike him down where he stood before he even had a chance to move. But the past week had made him more comfortable around her. He knew she wouldn’t hurt him.

He looked down, searching for a burn, or whatever caused her cry. Jesus, the woman’s arm was covered in scars. He ran his thumb over a particularly nasty one on the back of her wrist. Reminders of all she’d done for humankind.

“It’s nothing. Just a stray bit of oil from the pan.”

He saw it then, the slightly reddened mark on her thumb.

She tried to pull out of his grasp. “Cameron, you’re being silly.”

He ignored her, pulling her over to the sink and turning on the cold water.

“This will make it feel better.”

“It feels fine.”

Again, he ignored her. If she wouldn’t take care of herself, he’d have to do it for her. How many of these scars were from cooking, and how many from fighting? She protected the world, but who protected her? She needed to be more careful.

“The meatballs will burn,” she said with an edge of exasperation.

“Let them.”

She used more force, pulling out of his grip and moving back to the stove. “No. My meatballs are fantastic, and I won’t let them be ruined. Have a seat at the counter and keep me company.”

Cameron stood where he was, examining her back. He couldn’t quite explain the panic he’d felt when she’d been burned. His heart still beat faster. What was wrong with him? She didn’t need him looking out for her. If anything, it was the other way around.

He never took his eyes off her as he finally moved to the bar stools. His brain buzzed, trying to analyze his feelings.

Kali was a friend. And female. Of course he’d feel protective of her. His nature was to protect females, because they were seen as weak. He just needed to accept the fact that this one female was anything
but
weak. Add in the attraction thrumming through his veins at the sight of her, and his reaction made perfect sense.

“You know, I could cook sometimes.”

Her sudden stillness worried him. More so when she slowly turned and met his eyes with fire blazing in hers.

“You don’t like my cooking?”

Uh oh. He knew that tone.
Tread carefully
, his mind warned. He gave her a disbelieving look. “Have you tasted your cooking? Of course I like your cooking.”

She relaxed marginally.

“I love your cooking. But I don’t want you to think you have to cook all the time. I mean, I’m the prisoner, shouldn’t I be doing the labor?”

She studied him before clucking her tongue. Then she turned back to the stove. Cameron breathed a sigh of relief. She could strike someone down with those eyes. That was a close one.

“I like cooking,” she said.

He’d seen that for himself. When she wasn’t training, he’d often find her here, cooking up one thing or another, or looking through a stack of cookbooks. He had no idea how she’d gotten such a collection, but it was massive. She had a whole pantry dedicated just to cookbooks.

“Besides, you’re not a prisoner here. You’re free to leave whenever you want. Just as soon as you tell me what I need to know.”

There it was. Proof she hadn’t given up on figuring out how he’d gotten through the gate. Not that he assumed she had. He wasn’t stupid. Well, not all the time.

Still, she hadn’t mentioned it in a few days. He’d figured she’d ruled out his involvement, giving him the time he needed for his own research. So far, she’d proven herself a worthy protector. But he wasn’t fully convinced. Some aspects of her life still bothered him. He couldn’t trust her with the shard until he considered things from all angles.

Strange, though. What bothered him the most wasn’t that she admitted he had to stay until she told him what he needed, but that she seemed so willing to let him go.

“And cut our time short? Admit it, you’d miss me.” He tore a piece out of the bread sitting on the counter and popped it into his mouth. He loved teasing her because Kali always gave as good as she got.

“Yeah, I would,” she said quietly. The honesty of the words smacked him in the face. Then she turned and pointed a mixing spoon at him. “Don’t fill up on bread. This sauce is something else, and you’d better enjoy it.”

Ah, there was the Kali he knew.

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her, and was happy to see her smile in return.

This Kalindra, he was comfortable with. The one who quietly admitted she’d miss him if he left… Well, he didn’t know what to say to that Kalindra. Especially knowing he would leave eventually. With the shard to find a suitable protector, or without the shard, if he deemed her the best choice. Either way, he would leave. And when he did, he’d prefer to leave with a clear conscience.

But duh, of course she’d miss his company. No mystery there. He couldn’t begin to imagine how lonely she must be, stuck in this place by herself all the time. For Christ’s sake, she’d even personified the gateway in order to have a friend.

Not his problem. She’d lived this way for hundreds of years before him, and would continue to do so when he left.

Hell, maybe he’d take a vacation here every once in a while. Just to pop in and say hello. But he couldn’t spend his life here. Even if she wanted him to, it would be a blip in time for her. A handful of years out of thousands. That was no life for him and would barely make a difference in the grand scheme of her life. No, he couldn’t stay. But he could keep her company until he left.

At the stove, he saw Kali stiffen as if in pain. Probably another stray pop of the oil. She cooked so often she should get one of those screens to cover the pan with. He opened his mouth to tell her as much when she disappeared.

Chapter 4

Kalindra raised the spoon to her lips. Should she add another pinch of salt to the sauce? The meatballs were a bit saltier than she’d like. Maybe once she added them, they would balance out the sauce.

Pressure tugged just above her belly button, the only warning before the gate teleported her to the entrance. Within seconds, she stood before the gateway, staring at a slight ripple in the air, the only sign of the portal on the Earth side.

Something whizzed behind her and to the right. Without stopping to think, Kalindra dove for the ground, the wooden spoon still clutched in her grip. She rolled as her body hit the hard dirt, shifting to harpy mid-spin. The change swept down her body in a tide of feathers and claws. One moment human, the next harpy. When her feet hit the ground, she launched herself into the air with ease and turned to face her attackers.

Ogres? What the hell were ogres doing storming her gate? But her eyes didn’t lie. Five of them stood beneath her, clutching their clubs and growling at her. This was a new one. Usually ogres kept to themselves. And as far as she’d known, none had tried to breach a crossing.

“Are you all lost?” she asked with an edge to her voice.

“Give us human, we let you live,” one grunted.

They wanted a human? What could they possible need with a human?

“Um, no. What makes you think you can come to my home and make demands?”

These jokers clearly had no idea who they were dealing with. Honestly, making demands? Of her?

“Just want man. No need you.”

A man? What were they…

Cameron. These ogres were after Cameron. It must be him. Her gaze shot to the left, toward her home half a mile away.

Somebody had been keeping secrets. And when she got back, he’d damn well tell her.
Or else.