The Sentinel Keeper (Forest Series) (8 page)

The very last thing he needed right now was to face his warriors, but Blane, Aslan and Shara were sitting at the kitchen table when he walked in.

“Jesus,” he cursed, sidestepping them and heading straight to the storeroom. “Haven’t you got anything better to do but wait for me around here?”

Aslan leapt to his feet following Melchior to the storeroom.

“What the hell happened?’ he asked.

“Beth’s sleeping,” Melchior said. 

“And the Priest?” Aslan asked. “He is going to want to speak to her.  Have you told him yet?”

Melchior knew he had to face their questions at some point, both the Priest as messenger of the Gods and his own warriors. He owed it to them. The problem was, he didn’t know what he was going to do.  He chose to face the easiest audience first. Better now than later.

“Yes, she is a Dreamwalker,” he said and pulled a chair up to the table and sat with them. “I figured that out earlier just before the fucking Priest hit town. But I am pretty sure she is not working for Niyan.”

Blane frowned.

“How can you be sure?”

Melchior sat down with them and started tucking into a side of beef.

“I saw her dream and there is no way they are on the same side. He had her tied down and was about to kill gut her with his favourite weapon.”

Shara froze. Then speared a delicate strawberry with a long talon. 

“Not the stone knife.”

“You got it,” Melchior nodded.

She bared her fangs in a quick hiss. All three men leapt up, chair flying as they stepped quickly back from the table. Shara’s venom could spit as far as her arrows, and the result was far more deadly. Her eyes were narrow yellow slits as she looked down. After a few seconds he retracted the fangs and started to gently nibbling on the fruit.

The others slowly moved back to the table, exchanging glances as they righted their chairs and sat back down. Something dark had gone down in the days that the Dark Lord had held Shara his prisoner before he had left her on the rocks for the birds of prey to tear her apart. She had never spoken of that time, but the damage was all over her like a scar that would never heal.

“How is it possible she is alive?” Aslan said. “When the Dark Lord killed them all decades ago. How is it that she has just appeared out of nowhere?”

“It could have something to do with the fact that she clearly no idea what she is, or what sort of danger she is really in,” Melchior said. “It doesn’t seem possible, but it appears that she grew up all alone and doesn’t know her own powers or what they mean. But the gift is passed down from mother to daughter, so her mother must have been a Dreamwalker as well. But she has never know her so it may have seem as if the bloodline had died out. That’s possibly why she is still around.”

Aslan leaned over and snagged a chunk of beef from Melchior’s plate.

“And yet she dreams of him. She is going to lead him here Mel, you know it.”

Melchior frowned, but a heavy feeling descended on him.

“Yes. That I know to be true. He is using her somehow, and I think it is to find me. He has not killed her yet for a reason. But she is here now and I will protect her. I won’t let him touch her,” he said.

He could feel the room grow still as all eyes locked on him.

“What’s that my man?” Aslan asked with a quick sideward glance at Blane that Melchior did not miss. “You feeling her?”

Melchior stilled any more comments with a glare.

“Let me say this. She is of special interest to me. And nobody will touch her.”

His eyes held Blane’s yellow ones for a second longer than the others. He nodded and looked down.

“Nice,” Aslan let out a slow breath. “You deserve it man. She’s hot she can kick your ass. I like her already.”

Blane choked back a laugh. Melchior stood up and turned his back, calling an end to the small tête-à-tête.

But Aslan jumped up and walked with Melchior as he headed back to the storeroom.

“Have you been with her yet?” he asked.

They all knew about his curse and Aslan had nursed him back to health during the one and only time he had tried to defy the gods. He had stood beside his Lord as they had sent the girl off into her final resting. The last thing Melchior wanted right now was his old friend’s wise counsel.

Melchior shot him a look, but shook his head. “Not yet.”

“What if he finds her,” Aslan asked, his voice low so the others couldn’t hear. “She could put all of us at risk. If he finds her, he finds us. You are taking a big risk my friend.”

The thought that had been plaguing Melchior was now out in the open.

It was a no-win situation for him with Beth. Better to get rid of her now and save himself the undeniable pain of her loss later. He knew she had to go, but he also knew that to send her out alone into the human world was to risk her certain death. The very thought of it sent a pang of pain through his chest. And the uncomfortable truth was that he didn’t want her to leave. The thought of never seeing those dark fathomless again laughing up at him again was inconceivable.

Aslan’s searching blue eyes held him. Nothing was worth the lives of all these people. Not even a female he craved with his every being.

Melchior felt himself nod.

“I can’t compromise the location. I’ll going to get her out of here as soon as she wakes.”

But even as he spoke a piercing scream cut through the air.

Beth.

Aslan’s eyes were cold as he reached for the long blade hanging over his back.

“Too fucking late,” he said.

Beth was sitting upright in the centre of the bed as Melchior burst into the room, the other’s close behind him. Her eyes were wide in terror and a deep crimson stain of wet blood was spreading down the sheets she held clutched to her chest.

He raced over and, shielding her with his body he ripped down the sheets. Behind him he heard Shara hiss.

A deep cut slashed across Beth’s chest. It was not a deep blow, but it was long and deep enough to send blood streaming down her. Melchior felt his hands shake with rage.

“What happened,” he spat as he fisted a sheet and pressed it against her chest to staunch the bleeding.

“The deathbringer from my dreams,” Beth gasped, her eyes wide in her exhausted face. “He saw me in this room. He is coming for me.”

Melchior heard a curse behind him. He swung around and faced the crowded door.

His eyes met Aslan’s fathomless blue ones. There was an unspoken accusation there that Melchior had to ignore right now. He turned to Shara.

“Get ready,” he barked. “Get the soldiers ready for a battle. The Dark Lord Niyan knows our location.  He will be here as the sun sets tonight.”

He saw Shara’s eyes glint with anticipation.

All three of the warrior behind him stood together as one. They hit their fists against their chest and roared to his command. Then all dropped their heads to him.

Only Aslan’s eyes held his in a cold accusing stare before they all turned and left the room.

“The Dark Lord Niyan” Beth breathed the name into the room. She was standing right behind him, the sheet wrapped around her. “That is the thing that kills me in my dreams.”

“He is real, isn’t he?”

Then the realization lit her eyes. She recoiled in horror.

“Earlier he said something strange to me that he had never said before. He said
, ‘you have found him for me’.
He was talking about you, wasn’t he?”

Melchior nodded.

“Why?” She whispered her eyes wide. “What are you?”

“I am the Warrior Lord of this Realm. I was born from the Gods, but sent here many centuries ago as a punishment. My job is to guard the Sentinel, the gateway from this world into ours. I am not a human like you. I am immortal.”

Beth nodded at him. Gone was the hard edge and her blue eyes were fragile as the weight of what he had shared with her sunk in. Her dark head bowed for a second.

“This Sentinel. You guard it from him?”

Melchior smiled. She was smart and capable. More than just not wanting to lose her, he had a deep respect for her courage and her mind.

“Yes. From him and other immortals that live in other realms. But the Dark Lord is our greatest threat. He was one of us, an immortal living above before he was cast out. He turned to the dark forces for his powers and has drawn off them ever since.”

He saw her understanding. She nodded, a warrior who accepted her fate and her destiny. With a start the word rang on his tongue. Destiny. She was his. He knew that he needed to have her, even if it could only be once.

“Tell me what I am,” she whispered. “I need to know.”

Melchior stepped towards her.

“You are mine,” he said.

Beth’s face was as white as the sheets as he picked her up and carried her into the stone bathroom. Just outside the window he could see the first snowflakes starting to fall, their white petal fluttering down through the night sky.

Her haunting face was etched in pain as he put her feet gently to the floor. Her rested her against the stone basin as he turned on a steaming shower.

God he had so little time now.

He pulled down the sheet that was now soaked in her crimson blood and let it drop to the floor. Then he picked her up and walked into the shower with her. The hot water streamed down his body, caking his clothes to him. Below him the floor ran red with her blood.

Melchior lowered her feet again and slowly washed every inch of her skin clean. His fingers moved over her as if in prayer. Reverent and careful.

Beth did not say a single word as he cared for her. As his fingers moved over her wound it closed, skin merging with skin and binding as the bleeding stopped and the flesh mended. She watched him in a daze.

“What am I?” she whispered

Melchior didn’t need to talk. He took his hand and placed it on her forehead, closing his palm over the point between her brows. Then he closed his eyes and unleashed his power. His knowledge flowed into her, stories of Dreamwalkers through the ages merged with her own thoughts. As did dark memories of each of their deaths. Beth stood there as the knowledge of her kind filled her mind. When it was over he lowered his hand, and stroked it over her delicate cheek. Her dark lashes lifted and her eyes lifted up to his. They were as black and endless as the night, but filled with a peace he had never seen in them.

“Love me,” she whispered.

*******************

Beth felt herself being lifted off the ground and her arms came around Melchior neck on their own accord, weightless as he carried her through towards the bed. She felt a deep sense of peace as he lowered her to his bed.

She opened her eyes lifted her head towards him, pulling him closer. Their lips met somewhere in the middle and she felt her mouth open, taking him.  His kiss branded her. She opened her eyes and watched his face move in the moonlight. The dark lines of his face softer now as she drew back and ran a finger down his cheeks.

“How did you get these?” she whispered.

Melchior didn’t answer her, but just lowered his head again and crushed her with a kiss. It was slow and gentle, a contrast to the hard man rising above her. He had shown her nothing but power and strength, but in this kiss he gave her more. It was what she had craved forever. From the first second her eyes met his in that forest glade.

Her blood heated instantly and she arched below him, pressing her body against his.

“Be with me,” she whispered against him neck.

He nodded. She felt a deep sadness in his eyes.

He backed her against the bed and lowered her to it. There was none of the desperate need they had felt before as he moved his mouth against hers. This was slower and deeper. A slow, languid seduction as he moved his lips down her chin and onto her neck. Her blood was heating now. There was nothing between them this time and they both lay naked in the soft light. His fingers raked down her body and she moaned gently into his neck. He moved over her, his hot tongue flicking down her breasts. He skipped over her taught nipples and moved down her stomach, circling slowly.