Born of Silence (Immortal Guardians) (4 page)

They carried him between them, following long, winding hallways. Garrick could only stare at the ground, unable to even lift his head. When they finally dumped him in his cell, he was forced to remain in the position they left him, still unable to move in the slightest.

****

Ally walked through her new house, still shocked that it was
all hers. Her father had given
it to her as a gift for her ascension to godhood.

She still couldn’t believe it. She was a goddess. And the parents she’d known and loved weren’t actually her parents, just two people manifested to raise her in an attempt to keep her hidden.
She had loved her parents though—still did, and always would, in fact—even though they no longer existed.
As it turned out though, she had known her real father all along. Her uncle Pha
nes—or Eros as he was called more commonly
—hadn’t been her uncle at all. He was a god, and not
only a god, but the first god. T
he Protogonos. And her mom, well she was a goddess, too. The Goddess of Treasure who’d been so desperate to keep Ally hidden from her enemy that she’d been the one to create the
humans
who’d raised her.

She
reached the bottom of the staircase, holding the banister tightly as she spun off the bottom stair. Three figures traced into her entryway, causing Ally to yelp. “Oh, Jesus,” she squeaked, eyeing the three robed women she’d met only days ago. “What are you doing here, trying to scare me half to death?”

The eerie voices laughed. W
ithout being able to see their faces, it just made them all the creepier. The Fates had shown up when she was at Unitas, the temple she’d been whisked away to once she found
out she
was a goddess. They had triggered one of the most terrifying and miraculous experiences of her entire life. She’d ascended because of them, and a part of her would be eternally grateful for kick-starting that for her.

Looping her hair behind her ear, she said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk to you like that.” Now she felt stupid. These three ladies inspired fear in countless gods, including some of the most powerful gods ever to exist.

“Fear not, Alaina. We’ve come to help with the arrangements for your mating,” they answered as one.

“Wedding,” Ally corrected.

“Potato,
potahto
,”
they replied
. The common expression took
her
a
back a little bit and she stared at the robed women even more.

“Oookay…” She paused. “Would you like to sit down or something?”

The three women said nothing, but they did walk into the adjoining room where they each sat down, lined up in a row on her cream-colored couch. Ally took a seat as well, right across the coffee table from them, and waited for their explanation as to why they were in her house.

Or even how they got into her house. Eros had told her that it was warded against intruders.

When it appeared that they were content simply staring at her, she cleared her throat. “So, you want to help me with the wedding?”

“Yes,” they said. “You’re the Protogonos’s daughter. We’d be honored to help you.”

Ally stared at them, wishing now more than ever that they’d lose the robes. It was
unnerving
talking to people
while unable to
see their faces. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

As one, they snapped their fingers and a massive trellised archway appeared in the room, adorned with blooming flowers and lush green vines that wrapped the white frame. After another snap, a five-tiered wedding cake appeared on a round table with a shimmering tablecloth. They snapped their fingers again, and Ally looked down at a puffy white wedding dress that now covered her body.

Whoa.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” she said, freaking out at their immense power. She still didn’t know what to do with hers, and hadn’t had time to work on it. In fact, she hadn’t even been able to help bring Raider’s girlfriend, Nitro, out of her near-death state even though Raider had begged and pleaded.
That had been entirely frustrating, being unable to help someone who meant so much to Draven, when she was supposed to be the daughter of the most powerful god in existence.

She couldn’t even trace yet, and here the Fates could trace and manifest things with a snap of their fingers. She was only still working on being able to summon clothes on her own body. Clothes that she already
owned
.

A loud racket sounded in the entryway
and she
looked over to see Thrash running down the stairs at a clip. He met her eyes, popped a single eyebrow at the dress that she wore, looked at the Fates, popped the other eyebrow and walked away without a word.

They women snapped their fingers once more an
d everything disappeared at once. Ally was even back in her jeans and tee.
Then they sat there, their robed faces hidden as they likely stared at
her
as if nothing had happened, and
a
s if they hadn’t heard the massive werewolf crash down the stairs on his way to the kitchen. Thrash had only been
t
here for a few days, but he ate a lot more than she thought someone
could
eat.

Focusing her attention on the Fates again, she had the urge to run over and pull their hoods off just so she could see what they looked like. Were they old hags? Did they even look human?

“Look out,” one said. For once, it was said apart from the other two.

“She’s thinking about it,” another said.

“Hold on to your hoods,” the first one finished.

Ally’s mouth gaped open. “How did you—
”

“We’re the Fates. We know all,” they replied in what
she
decided was their tri-voice, whe
n
they all spoke
in unison
.

As if suddenly in a hurry, they stood. “We must go,” they s
aid. “We’ll be back.” They
poofed
out of the room, leaving their outlines behind in the purple smoke that floated in their wake.

A scream sounded
from another room
, and Ally jumped t
o her feet. It was
Skylar. She ran out of the sitting room, her shoes squeaking over the tiled floor as she ran past the curved staircase. She reached the game room and skidded to a stop as she caught sight of what was happening inside. Thrash had turned into his wolf form and was star
ing down his nose at Skylar
,
his massive form dwarfing her four-year old brother.

She rushed forward again just as Skylar let out another squeak. She almost reached him when his alarmed
screech
turned into a laugh and he clapped his hands. She came to a stop a few feet behind him.

“Again,” Skylar said, reaching up and petting Thrash’s nose.

Ally
stood, blinking at the scene, unsure of what to say or do. She looked down to see that Jake, her Shih Tzu, was wagging his puffy white and tan tail as he watched Thrash. His tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth as he grinned up at the wolf.

Thrash morphed then, back into his human form. His clothes had torn from his change from man to wolf, but he quickly grabb
ed a pillow from the couch and
stood to his feet.

Skylar roared with laughter, dancing around and clapping with glee. When he saw Ally, he skipped over to her and grabbed her hand to urge her toward Thrash. “Did you see it? Did you see?”

“Yes.” She looked down at her muncher and then back up at Thrash. “What was that?” she asked him angrily.

He raised a single shoulder in a shrug. “He wanted to see.”

“So you changed into a
wolf?
” Ally gaped. “Can you even control yourself? What if you’d killed him?”

Thrash’s jaw clenched as he stood there, glaring at Ally in nothing but the wet mop of blond hair on the top of his head. “Can you turn so I can leave, Red? Or do you want a peek?”

He threw the pillow onto the couch and Ally hastily turned away, cupping her hands over her eyes so there was no question she hadn’t seen anything.

She heard h
is footsteps as he passed
her. Skylar’s little footsteps were much quicker as he followed behind him. “Aww,” he whined. “Can’t you do it again?”

“No,” Thrash growled.

Ally turned as she heard hi
m
go up the staircase. She
peered
at Skylar’
s
pouty face, unsure of what to say. She didn’t know what the hell
had
just happened, but she’d have words with the wolf if he ever thought about pulling that again.

****

Days had gone by. Or at least, it seemed like days. Food was brought in regularly, and at seemingly scheduled times the blond guy would come in and take the redheaded woman against her will, only to return her in worse condition and completely unconscious. Then Garrick would wait. Two would come in for him, and he’d fight them, but they’d either knock him out by a blow to the head or via syringe. He’d wake up in the lab with Dr. Fuckenstein doing something to him, and the
n
he was returned in worse shape than before. Growing skin was a bitch, leeching him of what little energy he had.
It seemed that he’d barely get fresh, new skin grown in before they’d take him for another round.

Garrick
watched
the woman. A lot. She did the same to him. His perpetual staring was purely out of curiosity
…
and boredom. He couldn’t tell what hers was about, but every time he’d try to communicate with her in any way, she’d shut down and scurry away from the window
, hiding behind the mattress of her bed
.

H
e made his way over to the glass that separated them and sat down next to it. She eyed him uncertainly, unmoving. Garrick lifted his hand, waving it in a friendly gesture, but she just slid backward, farther away than she had been, and drew her knees up to her chest as she leaned against
the far end of her room
.

Ugh. He needed to talk to someone. Well, someone besides that jackass of a scientist who eyed him as though he were an experimental rat. He felt like a godsdamned experimental rat.

A
thought
suddenly
occurred to him
:
t
he
first magic trick he’d accomplished as a little boy. Lifting his finger to the glass, he slid his fingertip along the smooth surface, spelling out his name backwards. Wherever his finger touched, the glass illuminated, displaying the name for her clearly. She stumbled forward, pressing her hand to the glass, her face awed at the sight. As the glowing letters began to fade, her
gaze
met his.
Her bright blue eyes were lovely, especially with the glinting letters reflecting off of them. They were big, framed by long
,
dark lashes.

Garrick quickly pointed to his hand, then at her hand placed against the glass.
S
he pressed a single fingertip against it. He did the same; their fingers would have touched had it not been for the window.

Slowly, she drew her hand down the glass, and Garrick willed his magic again. He followed her, line for line, spelling out the letter “D.” “A” came next, followed by an “N” and an “I.”

Dani.

Suddenly her head whipped toward the door. The guard strolled in as she scrambled away from the window, and Garrick once again h
ad to watch as she tried
to fight that blond bastard. He stood, pounding on the glass, yelling at him to stop. But, just as he’d done every other time, he ignored Garrick completely as he methodically extracted Dani from her room.

Her light was shut off once the door was closed. Garrick was forced to
wait and worry about Dani as
her name fade
d
from the glass.

Ekhart sank back into his cushy office chair with his feet crossed nicely on top of his desk. He’d spent hours reviewing the logs provided by his staff on past and current projects, and interviewing prospects that were currently housed at the Institute. Glancing over the stacks of files, his eyes immediately found the wide folder with the name “Destroyer” typed neatly on the tab. He pried it open and scanned the progress, both admiring how well the conversion was going and damning how long it was taking. Setting the folder aside, he decided he’d sit in on tomorrow’s exercise, wanting to see the progress for himself.
He’d seen the Destroyer in action quite recently, but found that he never got sick of it.

A knock sounded at the door. Ekhart pulled his feet off of the desk and sat up straight. “Come in.”