Read Guardians of the Akasha Online
Authors: Celia Stander
“What are you doing here!” She had to tilt her head back to look up at him.
“You seemed ill when you left the table; I wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said. His eyes caressed her face in a way that belied his clipped tone, making Keira’s cheeks burn. She freed herself from his touch and stepped back.
“I’m fine. You can go back to the party.”
“Really?” He lifted a sardonic eyebrow. Here was a man not used to being dismissed. He took a step closer to her.
“Keira, darling, are you in here?” Cylvia called from the staircase, interrupting whatever he was going to say.
“Oh damn, my mother!” Keira whispered, desperately looking around for a place to hide.
“In here, quick!” He took her arm and pulled her towards a walk-in closet. He pushed her inside and shut the door behind them. The narrow room overflowed with Cylvia’s designer outfits. Ball gowns, fur coats, and suits were crammed into every space.
On the other side of the door, Cylvia was talking to herself. “I was sure I heard voices up here,” she murmured. “Hmm, where did I put that face powder.”
Keira stood frozen, listening to her mother rummaging through drawers. She stood with her back against a rail full of dresses; Marco still had his hand on her arm.
She wanted to hiss at him to move away, but didn’t dare make a sound with her mother standing outside the door. She had to be satisfied with crossing her arms and scowling silently.
He slowly bent forward and whispered in her ear, “Am I annoying you?”
His warm breath caused delicious tingles to run up and down her spine. She bit on her lip and tried very hard to blank him out.
She was getting angrier by the second, with herself and, even more so, with Marco.
What the hell is going on with you, Keira? Two days ago you nearly killed a man for touching you, and here you are acting like a—a—hormonal idiot
, a prim Keira voice scolded.
This is so completely different
—, a dreamy Keira voice answered.
Oh, this is just great. Now I’ve got multiple personality disorder
, Keira thought and clamped down on the voices.
Glaring at Marco, her eyes caught on a small scar that started in the corner of his mouth and ran down into the cleft of his chin. His was a face used to the elements; his slightly crooked nose had obviously survived a brawl or two. His dark hair was cut short, no need for expensive hair gel there, and very different from the young men Keira was used to with their soft white skins and artfully done hair.
Just then, Keira heard Cylvia leave the room. She shoved Marco back and fled. She only stopped long enough at the top of the staircase to pull herself together and watch her mother walk through the patio doors to the marquee outside. Once collected, she followed at a more sedate pace.
Back at the table, Victoria eyed Keira’s flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair and interrogated her as soon as she sat down.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, thanks, Aunt Vic—a slight headache, that’s all.”
“Hmm,” Victoria took a sip of her champagne, then changed the subject. “You haven’t told me yet, how are your charming friends, Sammy and Alison?”
“They are fine, thanks,” Keira replied and took a gulp of water. She didn’t want to tell her aunt she was staying in the city by herself.
“Good. So you’ve got a couple more weeks free until you have to decide what you’re going to do about your future?”
“Yes. I—we’re just hanging around, you know, enjoying the free time,” Keira answered.
“Good,” Victoria said again. She had a knowing glint in her eyes that made Keira feel oddly paranoid.
At that moment, Marco entered the tent and took his seat next to Keira. She tensed, turned her back to him and started a stilted conversation with an old, hard-of-hearing gentleman on her other side.
Keira spent the rest of that long, miserable afternoon smiling politely at stories of new babies, new marriages, divorces, and deaths. At one point she thought if she had to hear about one more bloody birth epic, or another long-suffering deathbed saga, she would lose her mind. Scolding herself for being insensitive and inconsiderate didn’t help at all.
She tried her damnedest to avoid all the curious, sometimes well-meaning and sometimes not, questions about her plans for the future, her love-life or the lack thereof. Unfortunately she couldn’t escape her cousin, Giselle, who stopped by Keira’s table to introduce her fiancé. She made a point of mentioning that he had just graduated from Cambridge and would interview for a position at Keira’s father’s firm. She touched her hair and forehead an absurd number of times, flashing her blingy diamond ring for all to see.
Keira gritted out her congratulations and well wishes, all the while conscious of Marco’s eyes following her every move. His gaze burned on the back of her neck, causing her to flush hot and cold in turn. He didn’t try to talk to her again, and Keira didn’t know if she should be grateful or annoyed.
Eventually she managed to extract herself from the party. She said goodbye to her parents and Aunt Vic and made countless promises to visit more often. She pointedly ignored Marco. Before leaving, she went to greet Mary in the kitchen. No time for a visit today: she got a quick hug, then the bustling, flushed little woman was off again haranguing the waiters.
Sinking gratefully into the backseat of the Bentley Richard had waiting for her, Keira closed her eyes in exhaustion as they retreated down the drive.
Chapter 8
Keira spent the next two days roaming London’s streets with her camera as her only companion. The viewfinder became the filter through which she viewed her surroundings and it kept her mind off of matters best forgotten; matters such as terror-filled faces, demanding parents, and hypnotic blue eyes. She walked until exhaustion forced her back to the apartment where she spent the evenings downloading photos to her laptop, editing her portfolio, and dreaming about National Geographic glory.
On the third morning, the shrill ringing of the apartment’s doorbell interrupted her preparations for another day of exploring. Opening the door with the security chain still fastened, she peeked at the person standing on the other side.
“Miss Keira Wilde?”
“Yes?”
“Good morning, Miss Wilde. I’m Detective Constable Paul Samuels, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” The policeman handed his warrant card through the narrow space and waited for her reply.
Still thinking about the day ahead and the areas she wanted to visit, Keira could for the moment not think why a policeman would want to speak to her. Then, with a shock running through her like an ice-cold lightning flash, she remembered.
In an even, tightly controlled voice, she asked the policeman to wait a moment. She closed the door, slid the security chain off and opened it again. A tall man in plain clothes smiled at her.
“Hallo,” Keira said. “I’m sorry, but I’m actually on my way out.”
“That’s all right; I don’t expect to be long. This is a routine investigation,” he said.
“How can I help you?” Keira arranged her face in a blank, enquiring expression.
“Well,” he cleared his throat. “Your friend, Miss Samantha Knight, informed us that you were attending a party at a club called Poison Ivy on Friday evening, correct?”
“Yes?”
“At what time did you leave the club?”
“It was about midnight, if I remember correctly.”
“Was there anyone with you at that time?”
“No, I left on my own.”
“How did you get home, Miss Wilde?”
“I called for a taxi, which never arrived, so I walked to the Underground and took the train.”
“Did you, at any time, see anything out of the ordinary or hear any strange noises?”
Keira shrugged and asked, “Such as what exactly, Detective?”
“Such as screams for help, sounds of a scuffle, that kind of thing. Also—well—green lights, a tornado—”
“Excuse me Detective, but ‘a tornado?’” Keira raised her eyebrows.
He looked embarrassed and gave a small laugh. “Yes, well, we had a statement from a man who was found wandering around the area. He claims to have been attacked by a crazy woman, said there were green lights—” the Detective’s voice trailed off.
“Okay, well, just following procedure and trying to find any witnesses. Thank you for your time.” He cleared his throat again. “Here is my card, if you think of anything, please give me a call.”
“Sure, I’ll do that,” Keira said and watched as the Detective walked to the elevator.
She slowly closed the apartment’s door and slid the chain back with shaking hands. She took a few trembling steps to a chair against the near wall and fell into it. Keira dropped her head down onto her knees and exhaled in relief. For the first time in days, the tight coil lodged in her midriff started to unwind.
The next moment she jerked upright as her mobile phone rang in her pocket. “Hallo?” she answered, nearly dropping it in her haste to answer.
“Good morning, Keira. Are you busy?”
“Aunt Vic, hallo. No, I’m not busy. Is everything all right?” Keira asked, slightly concerned. Victoria usually got her assistant, Simone, to phone for her, citing her dislike of all things ‘new fangled and technological.’
“Everything is fine, why wouldn’t it be?” Victoria answered.
“Well, it’s just that—oh, never mind. It’s nice to hear your voice. What are you up to?” Keira smiled and sat back in the chair.
Victoria got straight to the point. “I have a proposition for you. I am going to Europe for a few days and I want you to accompany me. I have to check on one of my estates. It’s a bit remote, on the border between the Czech Republic and Germany, and needs some renovation work. I would appreciate you taking photos of the buildings so I can discuss exactly what I want done with the contractors once we get back. What do you say?”
“Oh,” Keira said, taken aback by the sudden invitation. She loved Aunt Vic to bits, but had never before been asked to go anywhere with her. She wasn’t even aware that Victoria knew about her photography. She was also sure that Victoria could have any professional photographer she wanted for this assignment. But suddenly, the idea of a few days on a remote estate in Europe seemed like total bliss. The past week has been an emotional roller coaster and Keira was ready to get off.
“It sounds lovely, Aunt Vic, but I can’t say for sure yet. I’ll have to discuss this with my parents first.”
“I’ve already done that and they’ve given their blessing. Well, that’s settled then. My car will pick you up at the apartment tomorrow morning at nine. My plane leaves at eleven. Don’t be late.”
“Aunt Vic—” Keira stammered, but Victoria had already rung off and left Keira staring at the dead handset. “Well, isn’t that typical,” she said.
The rest of the day was spent in a mad rush of packing clothes and equipment, charging camera batteries, arranging with the doorman to water the plants, and leaving messages for her friends to tell them she’d be gone for a few days.
*****
London was painted in dusk’s pastel oranges and reds, the light slowly retreating and shadows advancing, when Simone entered Victoria’s office and asked if she required anything else for the day.
“No, thank you, Simone. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Victoria said. Her assistant gave her a respectful nod and left the room.
She swivelled her chair back to the window and stared out at the darkening sky. It had been thirteen years, almost to the day, since she first realised Keira’s destiny.
I should have told her so much sooner. Well, better late than never. She’s strong enough to do this.
For many generations, Victoria had watched each crop of young fools in the Wilde Family grow up into older fools, sometimes sensing a promising flicker of magick, more often not.
Those few children whose gift shone bright and true, were invited to attend the Initiates’ School and they became part of the inner circle. They became Guardians of that which connects all things in this dimension and the next: the Akasha.
And it was not only the Wildes. All around the world, the allied Families would nurture their magickal children and when they were ready, send them to the Initiates’ School to be trained in the way of the Guardians.
Once graduated, a handful of the best candidates would be selected and sent to Victoria for further training. Not everyone managed to reach her high expectations, but those who did, joined the Draaken, the elite warriors and magickae tasked with keeping the Guardians safe. When a seat on the Council fell vacant, members of the Draaken were eligible to fill it.
Despite all those Victoria trained as Guardians, Draaken, and even members of Council, her job was not complete. She kept searching for that one child in whom the pure flame of magick burnt with a hot intensity that would not be extinguished by anything or anyone. The girl who would become the next High Priestess.
Thirteen years ago, Victoria finally found that child. At first she could hardly believe it. Could she hope that the search was finally over?
It was a Sunday afternoon. Victoria was visiting her great-great nephew and his wife. A day wasted, she was sure. A year before, at a family wedding, she thought she caught a whisper of magick from their young daughter. Keira was five years old and would be sent off to boarding school the next year; if Victoria was going to meet the girl and get a proper sense of her abilities, she had to do it now. However, after an hour in the parents’ company she was convinced that it would be completely impossible for those two, ignorant on a scale that defied comprehension, to have a child with even the slightest magickal potential.
She excused herself on the pretence of wanting to admire the gardens and went for a walk outside. By coincidence she saw the little girl sneak down the stone steps to the lower garden and race across the lawn towards the far trees. Victoria followed her out of curiosity. Unnoticed, she watched as the girl whispered to a black raven, which had flown down from a branch to perch on the small forearm she held out to him.
Victoria silently followed Keira and her companion as they went further into the trees. After a few moments, little woods folk appeared from the shadows to walk with the young girl. She was soon surrounded by twittering birds, several hares, two red foxes, and a mother doe and her young. Victoria heard Keira laugh and greet all the animals by name. She even called out to the wind and the trees, both of which answered her with friendly sighs and whispers.