Guardian

“It’s your own fault,” Daisy said, not even bothering to look up as she snipped the tips off of the rose stems.

“I was minding my own business!” I growled, regretting that I had told her.

“If you’d been in class, it wouldn’t have happened, but—“ she gave me a stern look as I opened my mouth to interrupt. “That isn’t the real problem. It’s your temper. Always attacking when you should be retreating.”

“I won’t let them walk all over me like I’m human,” I spat, hating the lecturing tone in her voice. My sister was barely four years older and better in every way.

She sighed, brushing back a blond curl—perfect and beautiful, unlike my wild black mane. “Maybe if you acted a little more like them, you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself.”

“I’ll get stronger.”

China blue eyes snapped up. Worried. “What would you do if hurt someone?” she asked, shaking her head. She lifted the roses and put them in the vase and began arranging them into a dew-speckled elegance.

“They’d deserve it, and then they’d leave me alone.”

“Violence only begets violence,” she said melodically, choosing to ignore the fact that I hadn’t really answered the question.

“So you think I should just let them hurt me?” I blurted, incredulous. I already had bruises, on my throat, on my sides, around my wrists and arms from where he had pinned me. My pride was the worst of all.

“You antagonize them. Werewolves act on instinct. Just show that you accept their dominance.”

“No way. I just want them to leave me the hell alone. I go my way and they go theirs. What’s so difficult about that?”

Her smile was a little condescending. “Just because you submit doesn’t mean you become a slave. If you keep fighting like this, it’s going to escalate. It’s going to go to a place you don’t want it to. Today is just the beginning.”

I heard my own words echo in my head. Don’t cry over this. It’s only going to get worse.

The thought of Matt catching me again, touching me again, made a humiliated burn creep into my cheeks. I had been such an idiot to think he was serious, that he couldn’t control himself.

“That’s that…Andy, set them, would you? I’ve got to go confirm the delivery,” Daisy.

With a sigh I slid off of my stool and to the counter. I looked at the roses, dipping with the weight of their petals. Peach, pink, mauve…glittering with water droplets, they were beautiful. I set my fingers around their green stems. This time the magic was painless, shifting from my fingers to the flowers seamlessly. Their drooping heads perked up and they had a faint glow as I looked at them from the corner of my eye.

Another sigh escaped me. I knew how I sounded to her. Stupid. Childish. It sounded like that even to me. But I wouldn’t bend over backwards for them just because they thought I had to. I wasn’t part of their pack. I just wanted to be left alone.

I shivered, feeling the memory of Matt’s fist in my hair, his face next to mine. I blushed. He must really think I’m an idiot, being so scared.

But what had he been doing up there? I thought the roof would be a place I could finally escape from everything. No one went up there anymore, not since the Botany Club had built the garden last year.

“I’m not safe anywhere,” I breathed to the flowers. The roof had been the last hiding spot I could find where I wouldn’t get accosted by students or caught by teachers. Where could I go now?

The roses seemed to quiver in sympathy. I’d thought about leaving, running away. I’d even tried once, when I was sixteen, right after I had been beaten by half of the JV football team.

Unknown to me at the time, a heavy, ancient ward, laid down by who knows what wild thing, encircles the entire mountain. It keeps unwanted humans from wandering in, and desperate non-humans like me from getting out.

I had been found unconscious at the base by Sheriff Farkas, the older cousin of my chief tormentor. I stayed dead to the world for a week and had woken up to the scolding of my life.

Karmic-ly speaking, I must have majorly pissed someone off in a past life to be stuck here.

Daisy came back from the office, the handheld pinned to her ear with her shoulder. She was rapidly writing on a notebook, pen scratching noisily against the paper.

“Mmmhmmm. Right. Right….Oh, the old Miller house? Ahahhah. At the top?... Gotcha. Yes, it will arrive shortly. Anything you want on the card?...‘Welcome home’. I understand. Thank you, have a nice evening.” Daisy put the pad down and plucked the phone from her shoulder.

“You heard that right?” she asked pulling a card and pen from her apron.

“Yep. Miller place. At the top.”

She nodded. “Must be the new arrivals. Doesn’t one of the boys go there? Isn’t he in one of your classes?”

“Mmmm.” I said, noncommittally, flashing back to this morning. Great. Well, maybe he wouldn’t remember me. I smirked at nothing, as Daisy put the card in the placeholder.

“You’ll probably be a good hour there and back, so just head home,” she said, brushing her fingers against her jeans. “I don’t want you to get behind on your homework.”

“Ri-ight. Later.”

I grabbed the vase and headed for the door, the water sloshed around the rim, but didn’t spill.

“Be careful.”

I wondered which she was referring to, me driving or the flowers.

“Mmmm,” I answered as the bell above dinged with my departure.

The drive was boring, to say the least, as the car swung left and right rhythmically up the curved road. The water sloshed in the vase where it was strapped to the passenger seat amidst notebooks, broken pencils and dried up ink pens.

My old Nova squealed with each application of the break and the seats creaked as my weight shifted. But I made it, pulling into the gravel drive just as the sun was beginning to set. It was going to be Hell going back down. ‘

I plucked the flowers out of the seat and headed up to the front porch. The light was fading too fast to get a good look at the house. It had been a long time since I had been up here. The river behind it was a great spot in summer for the kids, but I learned very early that I wasn’t welcome.

It pretty much lived up to what I remembered. The clapboard was covered in peeling white paint that was sadly no longer white. The red tin roof was overtaken by rust. All of the windows were dark.

I hesitated mid-step. Something was wrong. A prickling feeling was running down my spine, growing more persistent as the sun set. My heart sped up as I made myself walk forward, boots almost even with the wooden steps.

I didn’t want to go up there.

The wind rustled through the trees making me jump. I laughed at myself and swallowed. This was silly. There was no reason to be scared. I must still have been jumpy because of what happened that morning. That was it.

Deliberately, I put my foot on the step. It gave an eerie groan.

“Great,” I muttered, and rushed up the last two.

I forced myself to push the aged bell. It rang dismally somewhere inside. For a moment the house stayed silent, then there was the sound of a chair scraping across wood and indistinct voices.

“Just a second,” came a woman’s voice. I swallowed down my relief. I was expecting Lurch or something to answer the door.

Seconds passed until the sound of footsteps came my way and the door swung open, minimally.

A pale face peeked out around the door before it swung fully open. A pretty middle aged woman smiled at me. “Please come on in, hun, it’s gonna be a minute before I find my check book. It’s in one of these boxes.” She laughed apologetically before taking a step back and beckoning me inside.

I gave a small smile and entered, still feeling nervous.

It was dark in the foyer, but orange light was tunneling through the hallway from what I guessed was the kitchen. More voices were quietly discussing something. The smell of food was delicious. Steak and potatoes. Homemade rolls. I carefully hid my interest as she pittered around in a dark corner.

“Honey?” she called. “Where’s the box labeled ‘Finances’?”

“Why do you need it?” A manly voice called back.

“For heaven’s sake,” the woman muttered.

“Ummm,” I started.

“Just another moment, please,” she said, her eyes flashed to the stairs. “This is so embarrassing, but I usually use my debit card and I packed away all my spare checks. Silly, silly. Just wait here a second, I’ll be back in a flash.”

She hurried back into the light where the voices were coming from.

I sighed and let my eyes rove around what I could see. There were boxes stacked against the walls and spare pieces of newspaper littered the floor. I glanced up the stairs and froze.

It almost looked like someone was standing there, watching me.

I continued to look, unmoving, trying to decipher the shape in the shadows, or was it just my imagination?

I nearly screamed when it moved, dropping the flowers so that glass and water spread over the floor.

My brain stopped as a foot came into the indistinct light and sounds seemed to vanish. I watched, mesmerized as the figure descended, silent and compelling.

The bare feet were pale and long. Jeans hung loosely down a pair of equally lengthened legs. A white t-shirt never looked so soft hugging a lightly muscled frame. I wanted to touch it, to feel the flesh beneath. I swallowed and blinked. Why did I want to do that?

But pale hands came into view and I was captured by their elegant fingers. They were still capable though, strong. They would feel so good on my skin.

My hand jerked and I blinked again, shaking my head. Why was I thinking that? That wasn’t like me…I…

“Did I frighten you?”

The voice pulled me. So soft, almost a whisper, but the silky male cadence made my breath slip out. I had to see the face.

Is this real? I thought as my gaze lifted once again. My heart did little somersaults in my chest. It couldn’t be real. Someone that beautiful couldn’t really…

I backed up a step, glass crunching under my heel. My eyebrows drew down. Hadn’t someone heard the glass break? Why weren’t they coming?

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I—You…I didn’t mean to. We can—“ I was looking at the glass, heart hammering, face reddening. I couldn’t look at him anymore. I had dropped the flowers. Not that they would be hurt. The spell I put on them would keep them looking fresh for six weeks.

“We can bring another vase,” I finally blurted, bending down to start picking up the glass.

A hand caught my arm, lifting me back up.

“You’ll cut yourself,” he breathed.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, uncomfortable with that elegant hand circling my wrist. My heart was fluttering around my chest like a frightened bird. Why did he put me so on edge. I wanted out of here before my face could burn any brighter.

How had he gotten there so fast?

Before I could stop myself, I looked up. Right into that perfect face and I was mesmerized by his gray eyes. Those lashes looked so heavy. That must be why his gaze was hooded. I wanted to touch them. I bet they would be softer than the silk of his voice.

My fingers actually twitched at my side, ready to follow the idea.

He leaned in closer, catching a lock of my hair with his free hand. He rubbed it between his fingers. That was odd. This was wrong. It wasn’t normal. I should—

“You’re not blond,” he said, that voice washing away my protests. What was he saying? “They told me you would be blond and serene.”

His fingers moved to my jaw, tilting my face up. His gaze traced over every feature, omitting nothing from its scrutiny. Finally he landed at my eyes and for several heartbeats he did not look away.

His thumb slid across my jaw, sending a delicious shiver through me. I couldn’t think anymore. Only feel.

It felt good.

“Maybe you’re better,” he said, leaning closer. Closing his eyes he took in a deep breath, close to my ear. “You smell delicious. But…” his voice grew cross, and his fingers tightened on my arm. “Why is there Were-stink all over you?”

I was watching him as he pressed his nose and mouth to my neck. I watched until the angle made my eyes ache. Somewhere deep down, a part of me was very alarmed. And I listened to it for about half-a second before his lips pressed against my pulse. There he placed a soft kiss, and his mouth brushed against the sensitive skin there as he spoke.

“I can fix that.”