Guardian (30 page)

The white-haired man shook his head. “Turning her in the confines of a fight, you’re lucky you escaped with your life.”

He grabbed the scientist’s wrist. “This is my life,” he gritted. “She’s my life. Everything rests on her.”

The scientist’s eyes fanned to the edge of Vessler’s mouth, where Damon’s stitches strained beneath his anger.

Vessler shoved the man’s hand away.

“We’ve shown promise in Nashville,” Shindler said hopefully. “Especially with the group of new scientists working around the clock.”

“No. She’s the one. Only her.”

“But, sir, without the DNA change completed, there’s no promise that the … offspring … would be Darklings.”

“Even if it’s not by her choice, I’ll find another way to complete the change.” Vessler rested his head against the cool table. No more Halflings. Just darkness. Just hate. A beautiful army of his Darklings. Light, golden skin and eyes as dark as the coldest night.

And all in allegiance to him. Their father. Their creator.

Will was huddled over her when she woke. Nikki sat up, her side screaming in protest. She put a hand over her right kidney and applied gentle pressure. About a million sets of eyes were on her when Will stepped back, unblocking the rest of the room. She was on the couch and they were all around her.

Mace and Raven were about a foot away, a little blood splattered here and there on their T-shirts and jeans. Vine stayed in the corner, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, and straight across from her, the females and Zero stared down, looking anything but confident.

Vegan spoke first. “Nikki, we’re so glad you’re okay.” The last time she’d heard Vegan’s voice was when the females were bashing her and wishing her gone. When she should have heard Vegan, her friend, rally in her defense. But she hadn’t. Now, she was suddenly glad Nikki was okay? Really?

“What were you thinking, running away from us in Europe and going to stay with—” Zero stopped midstream when Vegan elbowed him in the stomach so hard it disturbed his white hair.

She turned from Zero and happened on Mace. He studied her with the intensity one gives a freshly polished gemstone. She knew what he was thinking, that maybe Vessler pushed her beyond the point of no return. Could she ever come back to him out of that strange blackness she’d sunk into?

She ached for him, but it hadn’t been her choice to leave Viennesse in the first place. He’d—they’d—all pushed her away. Even Will, the only one she thought she could count on to be objective. Her gaze narrowed slightly, and she was sure Mace noticed the change. He always reacted when she showed some sign of strength. She took a careful breath and tried to ignore the poker in her side. “Wow, you all seem so worried.” She hadn’t meant for her tone to be sardonic, but hearing her voice caused a spike of pride.

“Of course we were worried,” Winter said. “We didn’t know what Vessler would do to you. Nikki, there’s something we need to tell you.”

She froze for a moment, trying desperately to remember what had just happened beyond “something horrible.” She and Damon were fighting. On the lawn. Mace and Raven were there. Her eyes fanned to the two of them for a moment—both still fresh from the fight—but neither offering any clue. What had happened? Her head was aching, make that pounding, out rhythmic blasts to her brain. She pressed her hands to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Nikki, I know this must be difficult, but—”

Movement around her. Tension in the air. Mace’s voice. “That’s enough.” Then he was there, hovering and reaching around her to lift her into his arms like she was some broken china doll. “No more talk until she rests.”

She didn’t want to go with Mace. She’d pushed him away at the beach house, though now she couldn’t remember why she’d been so angry. Everything was blurry, and she wondered if she’d been drugged.

A stiff voice, filled with irritation, ended her thought. “We need to know what happened. This can’t wait, Mace. We need answers.” Well, whatever happened, it has Zero all worked up.

“No!” Mace’s words so abrupt, she squeezed her eyes tighter. “Not. Another. Word. Until. She. Rests.”

And he swept her from the room and up the stairs. Rescued. Again.

Welcome back,” Mace said as Nikki turned and stretched. He looked like he’d been sitting in the chair by a window for some time. “How’s your side?”

She yawned and looked down at the covers. “Okay, I guess. Not as bad.”

“Going to be sore for a few days if your kidney is bruised.”

She nodded and noticed the movement of her hair against the pillow. She chanced a quick peek to the right and to the left. Hair fanned around her. Had he done that as she slept? She remembered being angry with all of them—including Mace— but now she just felt relieved to be here. Safe.

He rose and stood with his back against the door. Her sentry, her guard. And she doubted any being—regardless of its origin—would be able to penetrate the wall of Mace. She watched his hands fist. Not angrily; this was a motion she’d seen many times. He’d contract, then flex his fingers, and then they were usually touching her somewhere. As if the digits had a will of their own and wouldn’t resist, no matter what his mind said. She realized she was anticipating his touch. But Mace just smiled down at her and clamped his hands behind his back.

She hoped her disappointment wasn’t too easy to read. But of course, it was. Mace seemed to have an instant translator where she was concerned. “Looks like I need a babysitter after all.”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“You tend to order me around a lot.” Where had that come from? Then again, she couldn’t deny it.

He sank onto the bed. “Remember on the boat when I told you my judgment is all messed up where you’re concerned?”

She nodded. “I do, but I don’t want to be locked in a cage.”

“Nikki, your life is more important than we ever imagined. From the beginning I’ve felt the urgency to protect you. But I don’t want to lock you up in any way. If anything, I want to help you fly. But you’re like a bull …” He ran his hands through his hair.

“A bull?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, but you’re constantly taking on risks, trying to test the boundaries.”

“That’s who I am, Mace. And it’s not going to change.”

“I don’t want it to change. That’s what I love about you. But you’re also called to be a leader. And a leader doesn’t always get to do what he wants.”

She was called to be a leader? Seriously? With pounding surety, his words rang true and scared her. “That’s why it feels like you’re constantly pushing me but at the same time holding me back?”

He shrugged. “I guess. I’ve never thought of it that way. Leading isn’t easy. You have to make the hard choices. It’s seldom the thing you want.”

A new respect for Mace sifted into her system. With all his infuriating stop signs, he was really trying to prepare her to move forward.

She needed to change the subject. “You saved me, didn’t you?”

The lines of his face contorted for a moment, then the tension smoothed. “You were doing all right on your own.”

“I don’t know what happened. There was this blind rage that just overtook me. Damon, he … he …” Her voice cracked and her throat closed.

With a sigh, Mace reached toward her and allowed his index finger to trail along her hairline, coercing stray strands from her face.

Instinctively, she knew he intended to discuss the obvious: her, Damon, what happened. She’d have to somehow guide the conversation into a different direction, because she needed to sort the vivid things she’d dreamed while he stood guard at her door.

She forced out the words. “Raven is downstairs. Is he staying here? Are things back to normal?”

The index finger slid to her chin and moved silently back and forth beneath her bottom lip. She really wished he’d stop that. It made it difficult to continue.

“He spends a lot of time with Dr. Richmond and at the lab these days.”

“The lab?”

“Yeah, he’s been watching Vess— He’s watching Omega. Things are as back to normal with Raven as they can be. Before today we’d been taking turns sitting outside the gate of Vessler’s mansion.”

“For me,” she said, voice so soft it could have been an echo. “What kind of guardian would I be if I didn’t?”

Nikki stared at the door for a long time. “You rescued me twice today.”

The perfect face flashed a frown. “Twice?”

She nodded. “Downstairs.”

His jaw tightened. “Yeah, about that—”

Nikki lifted her fingertips to his lips to stop his words. It worked. Mace was almost always leveled by her touch. The tightening of his lips beneath her fingers, the quickening of his breath as he exhaled puffs that landed on the back of her hand, the look in his brilliant-blue eyes …

With great force, Nikki pushed all that aside. Everything had changed. Everything. The weight of that pressed against her shoulders like the safety harness of a roller coaster that spun and tossed you from side to side then left you inverted.

His breathing slowed and remained steady—Mace was always steady—but somehow comfortable now, as if he’d eased into a warm pool. When her gaze touched his, she saw it—relief and awe and joy all rolled into one package. He tried hard to contain his emotions, but she’d studied him as much as he had her. The cadence of his voice, the soft sound of his breathing, the firm feel of his battle-toughened hands that could turn to silk against her skin. He was pulling her into that place of quiet safety that she only knew with Mace.

She looked away.

But that moment of eye contact told her everything she feared. Nothing stood in their way now.

What Mace couldn’t understand was that at the same time a new wall stood in their path. One that rose higher than ever before. He couldn’t know, and she couldn’t blame him for that. But, oh, she wanted to. It would make this so much easier.

“We need to talk about … you.” His lips brushed against her fingertips as he spoke.

Nikki’s eyes drifted shut in an attempt to capture and seal the emotion he was giving off. What would it be like to simply feel? To be allowed a sensation separate from all the pain attached to it? She didn’t know. And unfortunately, she was about to give up her one chance of learning, as she knew what Mace was talking about. They needed to discuss who and what she was. The day’s adventure was a blur, but tiny portions flickered with crystal clarity in her mind. Nikki wasn’t human. She’d heard Mace and Raven say it. And if her suspicion was correct, it was the worst kind of trick. Because it meant her actions in the next few days would ensure her ticket to hell.

“How is she?” Vegan asked as she handed a cup of coffee to Mace.

“Resting again.”

Vegan motioned with a dip of her head to Zero, who widened his eyes in question. She dipped her head again, a little more forcefully.

“Sorry, dude, for pushing her earlier,” he conceded on an exhale.

“It’s all good, Zero.” Mace stared into the depths of the coffee mug. Things should be good. Should be better on every level, and yet …

“What’s wrong, Mace?” Winter asked. A blanket of her long, dark hair framed her face, and when combined with the way she sat arrow-straight on the couch she looked like a portrait from a different time. No, not just seemed; Winter belonged in a different time. Her perfect posture, her manners, the frequent glints of wisdom in her golden eyes. How long had she lived? What had she endured?

Mace hadn’t given much thought to the hundreds of years that stretched before him. That now stretched before him and Nikki.

Nikki was raised by humans. And the confines of human life rested within a hundred or so years. But that limit became meaningless when he watched her eyes change. Why wouldn’t she talk about the fact that she was a Halfling? She’d deliberately shut him down, even though he’d seen in her eyes she knew.

When Winter repeated the question, he stared at her a moment before answering. “It’s Nikki. She wouldn’t talk about what happened on the lawn with Vessler.”

Heads nodded. But they didn’t understand. This went beyond a need to adjust. There was a fierce determination in Nikki’s eyes, a resolution in the set of her jaw, and the hint of a departure in her touch. Nothing had been spoken. Words wouldn’t have been as loud.