Messenger (Guardian Trilogy Prequel 1) (34 page)

I took a step, stopping when just an inch was left between our chests.

“None…,” I mumbled to myself, my eyes dropping to his lips.

“No, I…,” he said and his voice quieted.

He realized where my gaze was locked and that I was leaning closer. His pulse thundered in his neck as his expression turned from confusion to surprise. His dazzling, stunned face was the last thing I saw before our lips touched.

His were warm, soft, and welcoming, giving way to mine for a brief second before he overcame his response to my unexpected behavior. Then his hands came back to my cheeks, cupping them to draw me in, to meet me with the same sense of relief and excitement.

All that had built up between us over the months came rushing forward, surging into our kiss, and we clung to each other with a driven need as our lips caressed each other.

There was no exploration, only a simple honest need to release the passion between us. Yet with my eyes closed, I felt everything, every brush and quiver. His lips moved with mine, finding a mutual rhythm that only threatened to enflame us more.

“Sir!” someone shouted. It sounded like Claudius.

I jerked but Eran only paused. He then slowly drifted away until our mouths had parted. Continuing to hold my face in his hands, he tipped his head until our foreheads rested together.

He took time to recover before drawing back entirely and exposing us once again to the outside world. His breathing came in steady but deep breaths even though the blood still pulsed rapidly through him. Once it had calmed, he called out quietly.

“I just need a minute.” His voice was husky.

I realized my fingers were gripping his clothing at the waist and uncurled them.

We parted simultaneously to address a sea of faces. Some tried to hide their smiles while others found no humor in our display.

We had forgotten entirely about them.

“Yes, Claudius,” Eran said, restrained.

“May I have a word with you?” Claudius sounded just as reserved.

“You may.”

“In private.”

Eran turned back to me. Leaning forward, his mouth settled next to my ear. “I’ll come find you,” he whispered.

I had to close my eyes to control my excitement.

I opened my mouth to respond, but his lips swept across my earlobe. At that point, I could do nothing more than exhale my enthusiasm.

Hearing it, he pulled away and gave me his trying, enticing smirk.

Claudius met him halfway and they strolled through the throng and into the dark. I watched them the entire time they were visible.

Enough attention was left on me after that I felt more comfortable sneaking back to my tent. Once there, I sat on my bed, listening to the celebration outside. They returned to their revelry and I smiled in appreciation at it. Then the sound of Eran’s voice stood out. It was close, just on the opposite side of the tent wall.

I stood to leave and give Claudius and Eran their privacy. What made me stay was the use of my name in their conversation.

“You don’t accept it but you know it is true,” Claudius said, his voice rising enough for me to hear him clearly. “You of all others, Eran…You’ve told us, reinforced in us the importance of managing our weaknesses. And she, Magdalene, is your weakness.”

Gone was the exhilaration I felt just seconds earlier. Now a sickness began to form in my gut.

“Enough,” Eran demanded. “I appreciate your concern, but my feelings will not get in the way of my responsibilities.”

A long pause told me that they had come to an impasse.

Claudius ventured one final suggestion. “Sir, allow me to become her guard-”

“No.”

“Please, Sir.”

“I can handle this.”

Silence from Claudius confirmed his doubts. As it droned on, the pain in my stomach grew worse. His friends, my friends, our greatest confidants were opposed to our feelings for each other.

It was rational. I grasped their reasoning. Having feelings for someone you are guarding distracts and potentially jeopardizes the person you are intending to protect and the person handling the protection. So why did my heart feel like it was sinking?

Taking control of the conversation, Eran’s tone turned commanding. “You will not address me on this subject again, Claudius.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said, but it was spoken reluctantly.

By the time Eran came through the tent flap, I was lying down and my eyes were closed. I didn’t open them, not even when I heard him stop beside me and kneel. Seconds passed and I imagined he was evaluating me. Then a lock of my hair was moved gently from where it had landed against my nose, sadly tickling me inside. I heard him shift and felt his lips press lightly against mine. It was fleeting, a good night gesture, and had they stayed any longer I would have given in to my desire to tilt into them. When they were gone, I heard him settle back against the bed next to me and I felt his stare.

I wanted to talk to him and let him know I heard the conversation, but to what end? What Claudius had said had been correct. Our feelings for each other were as much a threat to him as they were to me. Therefore, I didn’t acknowledge him, but I sensed his mind racing right up until I found myself in the afterlife, certain he would come to the very same conclusion as me…

There was no hope for us.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: BOOK OF DOSSIERS

T
HE NEXT MORNING
I
AWOKE TO
more sound than I expected. The camp should have been quiet with the messengers and guardians, save for a few sentries, still in their beds. What I heard sounded like the fluff of tent fabric falling and being folded.

I slipped on my boots and picked up my sword before leaving my bed. On exiting the tent, I found my assumption was correct. The camp suddenly looked barren. With the tents gone or flattened along the ground the hills beyond them to the west and the other camp to the east were exposed.

The messengers and guardians were departing.

Witnessing it brought out another round of sadness. I’d dealt with grief over Eran while in the afterlife all night, now I awoke to find my friends leaving too.

“You’re back,” Hermina commented appearing next to me and placing a hand on my shoulder.

“I didn’t see you in the hall,” I said, referring to where I’d just been. “Any of you…”

“We didn’t sleep.”

My head fell to the side in astonishment. “Any of you?”

“We thought we’d start on getting back to our lives,” she explained kindly.

“Yes, right, of course…,” I staggered.

“It’s been…interesting,” she said carefully before surveying the camp. “And I doubt it’ll end any time soon.”

I knew she was referring to the Fallen Ones and how the revelations would now haunt us until we left this earth.

“If you need me, I’ll be here,” I said.

“I know,” she replied casually, not needing to look my way in order to reinforce it. “We will be too.”

Another tent ballooned out as the spikes were pulled free of it, bulging like a mushroom before settling loosely onto the dirt.

“Have you seen Eran today?” she asked.

The sound of his name sent a buzz through my stomach.

“No, have you?”

She tipped her head to the side and stepped out from the way of his view.

He was just beginning to swivel his head in our direction as she did and our gazes met. In reaction, every muscle in me tightened.

While Hermina continued her stroll, Eran walked to me. His expression was inquisitive and lit with excitement after seeing me.

“Hello,” he said, discarding the traditional ‘good morning’.

“Hello,” I replied, unable to keep the passion from my voice.

As he reached me, he rotated around to watch the activity, as he had been doing from his previous position. “They’re almost finished,” he assessed.

“Yes, they are,” I said awkwardly, wondering if he was going to mention his conversation with Claudius. Bracing myself, I hinted, “They’ll be saying goodbye soon.”

“Yes, they will,” he agreed flatly. There was no insinuation as to him doing the same.

A throat clearing drew our attention to someone behind us and we found Enderl approaching.

“You’ve recovered,” I said.

He gave me a shaky smile.

“That’s quite a demonstration of your resilience in having done it so quickly,” Eran commented. “Is the rest of your camp in the process of searching for those who attacked us?”

He was keeping up the guise for the sake of the man’s innocence, which was an effort I respected.

“I hope not,” said Enderl, shifting the book he was clutching. “I don’t think they’d have a chance against Fallen Ones.”

Instantly, Eran and I bristled. Our backs went straight and our necks tensed at this reborn’s acknowledgement of that name.

“Your attackers weren’t nobles with contraptions or giant beasts trained to do their bidding,” he said hesitantly. “They were winged men and women.”

Neither Eran nor I spoke. My mind raced to determine ways to repair the damage done to this man’s awareness, while I imagined Eran doing the same.

“They are the reason I am here, in fact.”

He shifted the book in his hands and held it out to us. I took it and lifted the cover to the first page. On it was a sketch of me. Beneath it was a paragraph, which I promptly read.

Birth Name: Friedricha Schaffhausen. Messenger Name: Magdalene. Partner to Eran (Guardian). Average of five feet with petite body structure. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Appears to be in late teens but projects greater maturity. Speaks articulately. Leadership skills, though defers to others until issue is significant. Has a “bounty” on head? Excels with swords, carries rapier with gold and silver handle. Frequently argues with Partner. Prefers rolls for breakfast. Unable to cook.

“What is this?” I asked, hearing my voice come out as an order.

“A book of dossiers on you and everyone here,” Enderl replied earnestly. “Not to worry, your secrets are safe with me.”

“Why?”

“Recitation is my profession. I record…things. This time, however, my records have far more significance, of the earth-shattering kind. I don’t want them to fall into the wrong hands, so to speak.”

“You mean our enemies’ hands?” Eran asked.

Enderl nodded. “I’ve come to realize your enemies are my enemies.”

“Thank you, Enderl,” Eran said extending his hand to the man. They shook and Eran added, “What will you do now?”

Enderl appraised the camp where only two nights ago every one of us had nearly lost our lives. “I think,” he said pondering out loud, “that it would behoove me to begin dossiers on the Fallen Ones.”

Even though the evidence of our fight was almost completely gone, the memory lingered, and I immediately saw the genius in Enderl’s endeavor.

He shrugged. “One never knows. It might be of benefit some day.”

He then dug his hands deep into his pocket, rotated on his heel, and ambled back in the direction of his camp.

We watched him until he disappeared behind a tent.

“I should have known,” Eran chuckled. “He was curious about us from the start.”

A breeze drifted through the small valley then, rustling the book’s pages. Drawing my attention, I looked down in time to see them flip to the next dossier. It was Eran’s. The sketch was a remarkable likeness. Swiftly, I read through the paragraph analyzing him before he could subtly take the book from me.

Birth Name: Thomas Jurgen. Guardian Name: Eran. Partner to Magdalene (Messenger). Average of six, possibly six and a half feet, with strapping build. Brown hair. Aqua eyes. Appears to be in his late teens but presents himself as older, more experienced. Patient, sound judgment, capable with strategy, organization. Foresees challenges. Has the respect of his peers. Best swordsman I’ve come across. Doesn’t sleep often. Has strong feelings for “ward” (Magdalene).

“Has strong feelings…,” I mumbled while continuing to stare at the book.

Eran already had it in his hands and was slowly closing the cover.

I had a feeling he was grateful when Jeremiah and Hermina approached us to say farewell. She would be seeing me later in the hall, but she embraced Eran while Jeremiah gave us a formal nod of respect. They then plodded up the hill, under the dead trees and out of sight.

From that point, the exodus began.

As the messengers and guardians left, they sought us out and we said our goodbyes under the pressure of their curious stares. All but Hermina seemed to find Eran’s decision to stand beside me as inappropriate. Yet when we were the last ones left in camp with only the hushed noise coming from the camp beside us, Eran turned to me.

“I have something to say.” He didn’t seem overly pleased by it and my mind immediately returned to his conversation with Claudius the night before.

“All right,” I said before bracing myself.