Messenger (Guardian Trilogy Prequel 1) (9 page)

“Probably for the same reason we suspect
they
are to blame… They singled you out the same way you did them.”

“But…but why would we ever do that to each other? It doesn’t make sense.”

“No,” he agreed, “It doesn’t. But I have a feeling we’ll understand it soon.”

“Why soon?”

“Because they looked like they were just as inquisitive about you as we are of them.”

“So you think they are going to stay around long enough to understand what happened?”

He laughed ominously under his breath. “I’d go so far as to say I know it.”

And as it turned out, Eran was correct.

After I returned home, with Eran watching to ensure I made it safely down the path to our door, I didn’t see him or the other three for several days. I kept my head down while working in the garden, avoiding fleeting looks at the Jurgen home as much as possible. I failed a few times and wondered if Eran had noticed. But by the end of the week, I ventured into the night again and crossed paths with all of them.

The evening was cool with a dense mist that had settled over the area. Dew had begun to form on the patches of grass scattered along the graveled dirt road. My toes scooped up the droplets of water, dampening my shoes and causing my feet to resemble stiff, beaded slippers. I was in the middle of balancing on my left foot to wiggle the beads away when the sound of crunching gravel broke the serene night.

The image of the three with stark-white hair flashed through my mind. Before it was gone I had withdrawn my sword and spun around, slicing it through the air. It made a whistling sound but came to a dead stop directly overhead.

My arm felt as if it had hit a solid wall, sending a penetrating vibration down my limb, but in fact it was my wrist that had landed in an iron-tight grip.

When my eyes settled on the face of the person holding me, I found Eran grinning back.

“You’re quick,” he commented with his unusual accent.

We were suddenly close enough for our breaths to skirt each other’s face and for the heat radiating from our bodies to become trapped between our chests. And, despite my efforts to disregard it, he was intoxicating.

He seemed to detect my reaction to him and broke into that proud smirk.

“I’ve been training,” I said, reverting back to his remark.

“So that’s what you were doing just then?” he asked, playfully mocking me. “With your foot? Were you training?” When my nostrils flared in anger, he promptly submitted, “Or what was that a dance?”

“I don’t dance,” I replied flatly.

He blinked in astonishment. “You don’t…”

“No, I don’t dance.” I didn’t want to admit that I lacked the rhythm.

His stunned stare continued, making me self-conscious. Then slowly and with deep sincerity, he whispered, “That will need to be remedied.”

Despite my frustrations with him, anticipation ran through me like heated liquid, burning my stomach until it became a distraction.

While trying to ignore it, I asked, “Do you have a timeframe in mind on when you plan to let me go?”

“How is it I know you can be trusted?” he teased.

“You’re the one restraining me,” I reminded him.

“After you came at me with a sword,” he countered.

“Because you snuck up on me.”

He chuckled.

By this point, our chests had somehow connected and the jostle of his laughter vibrated against me. It was enticing, more than I’d wanted it to be.

After sliding my sword back into its sheath, I found him observing me. To sway his attention away, I pointed out, “You moved so quietly, I didn’t hear you at all.”

“Huh,” he mumbled and looked up at the horizon. It seemed to be in an effort to avoid continuing the conversation.

“How did you do it?” I persisted.

“Do what?” he asked, breaking into a casual stride in the direction I had been going.

I followed, repeating my question. “How did you approach me without making a sound?”

“Oh, I…” He shrugged. “I step with subtlety.”

Without knowing it was coming, I burst into laughter, which brought his attention back to me and an amused smile to his face. I would have kept on laughing but with my head down something caught my eye.

“Your boots are bone dry,” I pointed out.

There was no way he could have stayed on the graveled road without me hearing him and no way he could have crossed the fields without saturating his feet.

He peered down at his boots before candidly remarking, “Yes, they are.”

I expected him to continue, to explain himself, but he rejected that approach entirely.”And where are we off to tonight, Friedricha?”

I had intended to argue back and to squeeze an answer from him, but a single word brushed all that aside.

Coming to a stop, I blurted, “We?”

He rotated at the waist to examine me, his eyes lit mischievously. “I told you,” he stated, “I am your escort.”

I remember him using a different term the other night, one jarringly similar to the name he had given himself and his legion in the afterlife, but I wasn’t able to mention it.

“You are mistaken if you think I-”

He interrupted me without any sign of guilt. “I don’t mistake you for someone interested in protection, Friedricha. I’ve seen the way you handle a sword…and I’ve come to understand your sense of independence.” He added under his breath in a not so complimentary way, “or rather your demand for it.” Before I could show any sign of offense, his voice rose to its normal level. “I am escorting you solely out of a need to understand what happened the other night between you and the three individuals who caused you to panic. I don’t know where they are, but I do know where to find you. So, the only way I can accomplish my goal is to remain by your side until you and your three nemeses cross paths again.”

“And what if we don’t cross paths?”

Without hesitation, he replied blithely, “Then you will be gifted with my charming personality for a rather lengthy period of time.”

I sighed through my objection, which made him feign insult.

Leaning toward me, he teased further, “You never know, Friedricha, you might actually enjoy it. I’ve been told I’m fairly charismatic.”

With him so near, his scent moved past me causing my heart to do something unexpected. It skipped a beat. I had to calm it before I could muster a concise thought, which turned out to be in his favor.

It was easy to see how he would be told this.

With my thoughts deceiving me, I redirected them.

“And what will you do once you learn why the three individuals affect me, and me them?”

“I’ll leave you alone,” he said casually. “Be gone from your life forever…as you so clearly wish.”

I almost stumbled at his promise but caught myself in time.

That was what I wanted, wasn’t it? So why did I stumble? Why was I torn between relief and disappointment?
I spent the remainder of our walk to our destination analyzing these reactions and failing to come up with any reasonable answer. But once there, something else tore my attention away.

The sting at the back of my neck, the perspiration and the shakes didn’t begin this time until I had paid off the guard at the wall to allow us to pass. As he tucked the coins into his pocket, smiling a wide gap-toothed smile, I grunted and absentmindedly rolled my shoulder back to stop the pain.

Before I knew it, my hand was at the back of my neck pushing down the fine hairs there.

One look at me told Eran that the panic had returned. His hands came swiftly to my shoulders, pressing with tender, consoling resolve.

“Friedricha,” he said, although his voice sounded hollow and warbled, as if it were coming down a tube. “Friedricha, look at me. Look at me.”

“She going to be sick?” the guard asked in disgust.

“No, she’s not sick,” Eran said. “Friedricha, look at me.”

I did, although it was a struggle. The muscles in my neck had grown rigid.

The effort ended up being worthwhile because for some reason Eran was a comforting sight.

“You’re not alone,” he said, his voice returning to its typical stubborn determination. “I’m right here beside you. Do you understand? Nod your head if you understand.”

I nodded.

“Good, now do me a favor. Breathe. Draw in a slow, deep breath from here.” He placed a hand on my stomach, which was unexpected, and sent a pleasant, distracting jolt through me.

I followed his request, concentrating on his hand.

“Now hold it,” he instructed. “And release it.”

I exhaled, which sounded like a wheeze.

“Repeat.”

When I inhaled this time, my heart slowed its pace and my hand on the back of my neck stopped its shaking.

“Better?” Eran asked, his entire focus seemingly on me.

I smiled, grimly.

His hand dropped from my stomach.

“You should go back,” he insisted.

I noticed how he mentioned only me…

In response I furiously shook my head and he sighed irritably.

The guard, who had been watching my episode with lip curled in disgust, interrupted then. “Get on now. Go before I force you back out the wall. I don’t want her leaving anything behind,” he added, the repugnant expression never departing his face.

We started in the direction of our destination, slower now.

“How…,” I said and paused to shove back the fear still clawing at me from the inside. “How did you know that breathing would help me?”

“I’ve seen men twice your size go through what you just did, and I’ve seen it often. Breathing from the stomach tells the nerves in this body…in your body that there’s nothing to fear.”

“Thank you,” I said, humbly.

He kept his head up and eyes alert as he replied. “You’re welcome.”

He surveyed the house we were now passing with remarkable vigilance, in only the way someone who had been in similar situations knew how, and a sense of peace washed over me. This home was again within a densely populated, walled city. There were plenty of places to hide, yet Eran’s diligence made me feel protected, as much as I opposed it.

When we reached the home we had come for, Eran placed a palm on the door, blocking me from knocking.

“Remember, breathe… It might be the only way to get you through the night.” His lips turned down in a frown before he muttered to himself, “Since you seem to insist on going through it.”

Before I could argue my reasoning, he swung open the door and entered without waiting for the hosts to greet us.

This shook everyone in the packed room, including the three with blindingly white hair, which I instinctively knew was Eran’s intention.

As I saw them, the panic did rush back to its most intense level, but as I took a deep breath Eran’s hand came to my lower back and instantly calmed me. He escorted me to the only vacant chair and slid it back in the direction of the door before allowing me to sit in it. From then on, he stood at my right side. I couldn’t see his eyes as the guests began filing toward me, but I knew they were pinned on the three who caused me so much terror.

As I took messages from each guest, the crowd circulated back to their spots along the wall until only the three were left. They hesitated, eyeing me with suspicion. The girl was wringing her hands; one boy was twitching his shoulders, the other was flexing his neck. All of them appeared to be in pain.

An uneasy standoff commenced with Eran and me watching them as warily as they were us. It lasted several tense seconds, long enough for others in the room to begin to notice. Before it could go any farther, Eran drew in a breath, apparently to end the evening but one of them found the courage to step forward.

She looped a strand of her bright hair behind a delicately small ear and then tucked both quivering hands under her armpits before moving to stand before me, outside arm’s reach.

“I didn’t think this was a good idea,” she began stiffly. “My brothers insisted on coming. They are…inquisitive. They’re the ones who heard about the other messenger and thought it would be entertaining to meet her.” She narrowed her eyes at me before commenting with an eerily flat tone, “We no longer find it entertaining. If it was up to me, I’d end this pain right now.” At her veiled threat, Eran’s hand slipped inside his cloak. He didn’t withdraw it but waited with alert patience to see what she would do next.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

My question seemed to startle Eran, who I’m guessing didn’t think an amicable conversation was the best approach at this moment.

“I am Kaila. The tall one,” she said motioning to her brothers behind her, “is Deschan. The other is Cedric. We are the Kohler triplets.”

“If you no longer came to meet me, what is your purpose here?” I asked.

She didn’t blink as she answered my question with one of her own, which I detected as having an interest in seeing my reaction to it. “There are more like you, aren’t there, Messenger?”