Messenger (Guardian Trilogy Prequel 1) (33 page)

We made another twelve stops to similar locations to recruit men equivalent in size with a motivation for stimulation. It took us the rest of the night and most of the next day, leaving just enough time to return to camp before the sun set the day after the Fallen Ones were defeated. When we arrived, we found the camp being reconstructed. Others had returned to the camp next to us and were doing the same.

As Eran and I stepped up to the community fire, without having to be called, the messengers and guardians gathered around us, confused and slightly concerned, before Eran addressed them as only a colonel could.

“Today we are victors,” he said and cheers rumbled through the crowd. “Our enemies did not believe we had the resilience to defeat them and we proved them wrong.” Again, he was met with optimistic shouts. “How? By working together. Yes, they attacked together, but they did not
work
together, and thus they acted separately. That was their failure. They are not strong enough to defeat a united front. Knowing it, they have fled.” Yet again, the crowd cheered. “And they will not return until they are united themselves. From this point forward we will work together. We will maintain open communication. We will assemble when we are in danger. We will defend ourselves and each other with vigor equal to what our enemies would use to defeat us. This is our time…this fight is
over
!” A deafening roar was emitted from them, releasing the pent up exhilaration that only comes from surmounting the odds.

“Sir,” Ganzorig called out as the noise died down. “What of the prisoners?”

As this question was posed, Eran’s eyes shifted to the back of the camp and his lips tilted into a sideways smile. “Their escorts have just arrived.”

Eran’s confident grin caused us to turn around, where we saw fourteen men marching through the tents, all of their faces now familiar to me.

“These guards,” Eran said, “will transport the prisoners and take up their positions at the prison. From this point forward, all incapacitated Fallen Ones will spend the rest of their existence under the control of these men. When one is in your possession, your messenger will alert my legion in the afterlife and
they
will escort the Fallen One to the prison. The rest of you are free to leave.”

A mixture of acceptance, excitement, and complacency sifted through the crowd as they began to disperse. After so many days and having faced such dire circumstances, it seemed our castoff wasn’t the kind they wanted. It was Alban and his jubilant personality that corrected it.

“A celebration,” he bellowed, “to mark the moment and say our farewells!”

Instantly, the crowd’s energy soared, food was brought out, and Alban began splashing his concoction into every spare mug he could locate.

Eran took in the view, smiling in agreement, before ushering the guards to the tent that held the Fallen Ones. From there, he gave his commands and directions to the prison. They nodded and appeared to begin preparing to transport their prisoners.

I hadn’t moved from my spot, so when Eran caught me watching him, my heart skipped a beat. He blinked in a way that made me think I’d surprised him but didn’t make any motion to cross the camp toward me.

Night had arrived, causing someone to stoke the community fire. It gave off just enough light to show the impassioned energy in Eran’s eyes and to reveal the tips of the guards’ wings over the tent behind him as the prisoners were carried away.

As Eran and I stood in a locked stance, the camp came alive around us. Groups gathered, people cheered, a few began to sing while making music with their hands and feet. I noticed very little of it, narrowing my attention until it was centered on nothing but Eran. The noise fell to a whisper. The energy pulsing around me was consumed by my steadily increasing heartbeat.

Eran took a step forward, beginning to walk in my direction when Claudius moved into his path. Eran’s lips pinched closed in frustration. Claudius asked him several questions to which he replied. Being too far from me, I could only see their lips move. Eran’s specifically drew me in. When it seemed that Claudius was struggling to craft more questions, Eran apparently insisted he either get on with it or step out of the way. Claudius moved to the side.

Eran continued another three paces before Lorencio stopped him. Again, he held a brief conversation before Eran ordered Lorencio aside.

He made it to the fire before Cilla approached him, subtly blocking him from my path and asking further questions. As she did, Eran clearly didn’t think the conversation was noteworthy enough and drew in a deep breath to calm himself. She noticed and stepped away.

Next, Caius interceded but before he had a chance to speak, Eran simply walked around him and continued on toward me.

At this point, it was obvious the guardians were intervening and attempting to block Eran’s route to me, although I couldn’t discern why. They collected near a tent to observe us from afar.

I promptly forgot our audience as Eran’s eyes locked on me and my mind began to replay the last time we stood together in this camp. The mesmeric feeling of his tender hold on my cheeks returned, instantly shaming me for wanting that feeling to last.

He seemed not to notice my reaction and launched into his reason for approaching me.

“I want to tell you that I was wrong about you.”

“Wrong?” I mumbled, unable to shake the trance he had over me.

“You do have the mind to conquer Fallen Ones,” he stated. “What you did when they attacked, by waking the messengers and doubling our forces…you saved us.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Yet you still need me, and you know it.”

I expected his smug smirk to follow that statement, but he wasn’t being playful. He was absolutely serious.

The intensity of his blue-green eyes was magnificent. The rigidity of his handsome face, set into determination, left no doubt as to his belief in what he’d said.

As he stood in front of me, his chest rose and fell faster and the set of his jaw grew more rigid. His eyes reflected no thoughts but were fiery with emotion. He seemed to want to take action but something was holding him back. Then, in a fleeting second, that inhibition seemed to disappear.

“Dance with me,” he said, calmly, persuasively.

“But I don’t-” I began, only to be interrupted by his hands taking me into his arms.

Suddenly, my body was against him. My head rested on his shoulder. My arms were looped around his neck. My feet were dangling off the ground.

“You’re immune to me, aren’t you, Magdalene?” Eran asked.

“Immune?” I said, lifting my head and unintentionally whispering into his ear.

He drew in a sharp breath and a tremble ran through his chest when I spoke so closely to him. Overcoming the reaction, he returned to the conversation.

“You think of me as nothing more than a warrior,” he surmised.

“But you are one.”

“Yes, I am,” he said and appeared to have ended his questions. Something, however, drew him back. “You’ve never looked at me and seen someone other than a guardian?”

“What should I see?” I asked.

“A man,” he said plainly. “Just a man.”

The truth was I did see him as a man…a virile, imposing, compassionate man.

“I do see you as a man,” I whispered and my answer sent a another tremble through him.

His muscles flexed on impulse as he held me closer. “So you don’t dance?” Eran asked, his breath caressing my ear.

“No, never before.”

“Hmmmm,” he muttered. “Good.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be your first.”

An unexplainable reaction happened inside me then. A flash of excitement devoured me and I froze.

His chest rumbled again, this time from a deep chuckle. “Maybe there’s hope for me yet…”

“Hope for what?”

“For someone so insightful, you really are obtuse.”

“I see very well, Eran.”

“Then you do not understand what you see.”

“I see how much you miss the girl,” I said, the words leaving my mouth before I’d even planned them in my head.

He leaned back unexpectedly to look at me, openly confounded by my statement. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned a girl. What girl?”

“The one you told me about at the river. The one you’ve been pining over.”

His dancing came to a halt. He blinked and I could see an understanding in him. Good, I wanted us to be clear. I wanted him to know that I had seen how we had grown close but that he refrained, honorably, by keeping his distance. He cared for her. I accepted it. I was now ready, averse to it, but ready to let this conversation continue to its predictable end.

Except I was wrong about that end.

Eran settled back on his heels and crossed his arms over his chest, that smirk rising up so confident and carefree.

“Let me ask you a question. What was on your mind in the clearing when guardians designated their messenger? What were you thinking as I moved to stand beside my ward,
my original ward
?” He emphasized this last part to imply that he now had another, which I dismissed. “How do you think I chose my ward, Magdalene?”

“That’s really none of my business.”

“How do you think?” he insisted. When I didn’t respond, he continued. “Because she was the opposite of you.”

Finally, I looked at him. “You mean, easier to handle.”

He grinned. “That was a factor, but what other reason could there be?”

I shrugged. “She was unobservant, more at risk.”

He paused before muttering in quiet shock, “That’s astute of you.” Overcoming his reaction, he pressed on. “But could there be another reason I chose her – someone the exact opposite of you?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”

He leaned in, wrapping me again in his warm scent, before tenderly whispering, “When you asked by the river that day if I had ever met someone who I was interested in as more than a friend…”

I looked away, but he unwound his hands from his chest to take my chin and bring my face back to him.

“My answer was that I had.”

I stepped away and he let me. But he followed, his long legs striding effortlessly to match my hurried steps.

“You never asked who it was, Magdalene. Did you?”

“I already know.”
The girl you found during your travels.

“Do you?” he demanded. “Because you don’t act like you know it’s you.”

I came to a full stop.

You don’t act like you know it’s you?
I thought. The words floated in my ears unconnected to each other, separate distinct entities that held no meaning of their own.

My mind couldn’t process what he said because it was unfathomable. It didn’t make sense.

The girl was me?

Eran, a legendary warrior, hadn’t given his heart to an obscure girl he’d met on his travels? He’d given it to someone who was exasperatingly independent, who argued with him at every turn, and who would cause serious trouble for him if he were to continue acting as her guardian?

He’d given his heart to me?

He had paused a few paces back and was now waiting for me to turn around.

“Why do you think I told you on the hill that night that I enjoyed your company more than I should? Why do you think I came here in the first place? Why do you think I have such a damn hard struggle to keep myself from doing more to your lips than just looking at them?”

I couldn’t speak… or move… or think.

“Magdalene?”

“Yes,” I said, breathlessly.

“Do you remember when you told me that I could have just talked to you in the Hall of Records? That I didn’t need to fall to speak to you?”

“Yes.”

“You were right. I didn’t need to. I didn’t need to fall and I didn’t need to come to watch over you. I
wanted
to do this…I
want
to be here with you.”

“You do?”

The crunch of gravel told me that he was approaching. This triggered a mixture of reactions from nervousness to exhilaration. And then he appeared at my side, shifting to stand in front of me. Taking my face in his hands, as I’d wanted him to do since the moment he had released it last, he whispered to me softly, adoringly, unequivocally.

“There is no place else I’d rather be, in heaven or on earth, than with you.”

The breath that I’d been holding escaped as I fought the surreal feeling taking hold of me.

“Why-Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyebrows rose and his hands fell away.”Do you know how hard it is to disclose to someone how you feel when you aren’t clear on their feelings for you?”

I did, actually, very well.

“You have no idea how I feel about you?” I asked in a whisper.

“No, I don’t,” he admitted.