Revelation (The Guardian Series Book 3) Read online

  “Do you like it?” my mom asks.

  I turn around to face her. “Mom, I love it,” I say. “I love the crown and I love the dress. I love it all so much that I think I’m going to cry all over everything so you’d better get me some tissues.”

  She laughs and hands me the box from her bedside table and then hugs me tight. “You look so beautiful, sweetie. My heart is literally overflowing. I love that you want to wear the dress I wore on the happiest day of my life.”

  I beam up at her.

  “Besides the day you were born of course,” she adds.

  I choke out a laugh through my tears. “I can’t stop crying,” I say with a smile as I dab my eyes with tissues. “Probably because of all the pregnancy hormones, according to that book you gave me.”

  “Oh, just wait until the third trimester,” she laughs. “You’ll be sobbing over hams at the supermarket.”

  She hugs me as I laugh and cry in her arms and think about how happy I am right now, and how incredibly happy I’ll be on the day I marry Alexander … and every day afterwards to come.

  But in a small back corner of my mind, one I’ve been desperately trying to keep contained, I know that Avestan is coming back. And possibly bringing someone worse. And all this happiness I’m feeling could vanish in an instant.

  Because the driving objective behind the dark, malevolent force of energy headed our way will be to ensure that our baby is never born and my wedding to Alexander—this wedding that I’m preparing for with so much love in my heart and hope for the future—never happens.

  Chapter Nine

  “You sure you don’t want to get married sooner?” asks Alexander as he strips off his t-shirt. “Like tomorrow?”

  I laugh as I meet his smiling eyes. I’m in his room and he just got back from running. I came here to meet him after my last class so we can go out to eat but the sight of his bare chest and his shorts hanging low on his hips and the sheer male scent of his sweat is making me want to tear off the rest of his clothes and forget about eating altogether. I shake my head to clear it and try to respond to his question.

  “I like the idea of waiting until March, the first day of spring,” I say. “Like a new beginning. Growing a new life together.”

  “In Australia,” he says with an irresistible smirk, “spring is in September.”

  I smile. “Yes, I realize, Professor Ronin, that the vernal equinox and autumnal equinox are switched in the northern and southern hemispheres. But I like that it’s still an equinox, where almost everywhere in the world gets equal time for day and night. It’s balanced.”

  “You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he says.

  “You’re not the only one who plans things.”

  He smiles. “The student has become the master,” he says with a laugh and I pick up his sock off the floor and throw it at him.

  “Do you care that I’ll be pretty enormous by then, though? I’ll be eight months,” I say, touching my stomach. Surprisingly, my baby bump is still barely noticeable. My mom says that’s common with first pregnancies.

  “Are you kidding? I didn’t think you could glow any more than you already do but every day you get a little rosier and more beautiful. By the time March comes along I might have to wear a blindfold to keep from ravaging you during the ceremony.”

  I laugh. “I actually think a very pregnant bride fits with the whole ambience we’ll have going on out there in the Redwoods. I’ll be like a fertile earth fairy.”

  He pulls me tight against him into his arms. “Something about the way you just said fertile is making me want to drag you into the shower with me right now.”

  I smile and can’t help but sigh as he kisses me. There’s honestly nothing I’d like more.

  “But Edwin is home,” I whisper as my eyes flick to the closed door of his room.

  “And?”

  “And it would feel weird.”

  “We’re two consenting adults, expressing our love as the universe intended. Trust me, Edwin realizes we’ve made love before. You’re pregnant.”

  I smile. “Very funny. But he might hear us.”

  “What would you say if I told you he was quite deaf?”

  I laugh. “He is not.”

  “Okay,” he smiles, “but I’m looking forward to having our own place where we can be as loud as we want,” he says as he kisses me again, “whenever we want.”

  “We need to figure that out soon, by the way,” I say as I give him a peck in return. “Every dollar I earn for work goes toward school. And you’re a student, too. How are we going to afford rent?”

  “Money isn’t an issue for guardians.”

  “What? You never told me that.”

  “I offered to pay your tuition and you wouldn’t let me.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t let you. It’s important to me to earn my own way. But you never told me money isn’t an ‘issue’ for guardians. What does that even mean? You guys print your own angel cash?”

  He laughs. “I didn’t tell you because it isn’t important.”

  “Okay … well, even if guardians are somehow miraculously and ‘unimportantly’ loaded, I have to be able to explain to my mom where our money is coming from.”

  “Don’t worry,” he says with a smile, “I have a plan that I think will make you happy.”

  “You, Alexander Ronin, have a plan? I find that hard to believe.”

  He chuckles. “You know Edwin bought this house, right?”

  “Yes, of course. My mom was his realtor.”

  “Well, our tenant in the guest house is moving out soon. You and I could move in there if you want.”

  “Really?” I’m surprised and delighted. I always loved the guesthouse in the back of Alexander’s yard. The main house is on a large piece of land with a little stone path along the garage that leads to the one-bedroom barn-style guesthouse far in the back. It has an open living space with a gas fireplace, a large bedroom loft, a bathroom with a claw foot tub, and a very cute efficiency kitchen. A lot of houses in San Mar have guest houses or in-law quarters. The city creates incentives to build them, due to the high demand for student housing.

  “Why is Travis moving out?” I ask. Travis is a very nice grad student who I’ve always suspected is a guardian but I can’t get Alexander or Edwin to confirm it because they refuse to reveal anyone. I’ve thought about just walking up to Travis and asking him—straight up—if he’s a guardian angel, but I’m afraid he’ll think I’m a total nutbag if he isn’t.

  “Just moving on,” says Alexander vaguely. “He has other places he needs to go.” That’s as close to confirming Travis’ guardian-ness as I know Alexander will ever get.

  I nod.

  “So are you coming into the shower with me or not?” Alexander asks.

  “Not,” I say with a laugh, “as much as I’m tempted.”

  “You’re tempted?” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I think I can work with that.”

  I smile and my eyes trail over his tall, athletic frame, sans clothing now, and I swallow. He steps closer, closing the distance between us, and kisses me, softly at first, and then with a depth of feeling that makes me sigh, stroking his tongue with mine and causing me to melt against him.

  I feel him smile as he kisses down along my neck and slides his hands under my shirt, “Shall we take this off?” he murmurs and I laugh and lift my arms and we walk towards the bathroom kissing and laughing as we peel off the rest of my clothing.

  “I’m glad you changed your mind,” he says as we step under the hot spray of the shower and he kisses me again.

  I smile and shake my head as the water cascades over us. “You’re not very angel-y, you know that, right?”

  He laughs. “I love being un-angel-y with you.”

  I smile as we gaze into each other’s eyes before he bends to kiss me softly and I slide my hands over his broad shoulders and around to his muscled back, where I pull him closer.

  “You’re not so
angel-y either,” he murmurs with a laugh as he kisses me again.

  I’m sitting in the kitchen and Edwin is at the stove and I’m feeling slightly embarrassed that my hair is still a little wet, but I’m fully dressed, of course, and looking presentable and for all Edwin knows Alexander and I took separate showers. Right? He could believe that. At any rate, I’m trying not to think about it. I don’t know why it embarrasses me, but it does. I can’t help it.

  Alexander is still in the bathroom shaving and brushing his teeth. I actually like it when he has a bit of a five o’clock shadow—I like the way it feels rough on my lips when we kiss and it makes him look even more dangerously attractive, if that’s even possible. My knees are getting weak again just thinking about it … “For God’s sake, Jane, Focus!,” yells my inner drill sergeant, trying to get me to come back to the present and remember where I am and what the heck I’m doing. I chuckle to myself and attempt to gather my senses.

  “Edwin,” I say, shaking my head to clear it, “can I ask you something?”

  Edwin pours me some tea and sits down across from me in our now-familiar seats at the kitchen table. “Of course.”

  “Alexander once said that guardians can merge with dark guardians and then they transform into something else. Where do they go?”

  He looks thoughtful. “You could think of it as disappearing into time and space.”

  “They just disappear? They don’t leave their bodies behind?”

  “Usually,” Edwin says. “It’s actually quite beautiful. It looks like a shooting star. But depending on the guardian’s circumstances, they may leave their mortal shell behind so their loved ones aren’t left with questions.”

  “How do their loved ones think they died?”

  He takes a deep breath and meets my eyes. “Have you ever heard of dry lightning?”

  “You mean lightning without rain?” In the deep recesses of my brain I vaguely remember Finn describing it once as a weather phenomenon. Like ‘thunder snow,’ which apparently is also a real weather phenomenon, and not the name of a superhero on the Cartoon Network for kids, despite how crazy it sounds.

  He nods. “When a guardian dies in battle or if they merge and choose to leave their shell behind, the injuries are usually explained by dry lightning.”

  “And they don’t come back if they merge?”

  “No,” he says.

  “Not as mortals? Starting over?”

  He shakes his head. “Merging is a last resort. And permanent.”

  “What if they did come back? Would they remember anything?”

  He scrubs his chin, looking thoughtful again. “They can’t … but if they somehow managed it, and it was similar to a normal transformation, I suppose their souls could retain some remnants of their experiences and wisdom,” he says. “But not consciously, no, at least not at first. They’d be starting over as mortal infants.”

  I nod, absorbing the information. “I asked Alexander this once, but I’m not sure I understand why all the guardians don’t just do that? They could merge with the dark guardians and rid the world of evil once and for all.”

  He shakes his head. “Evil can never be extinguished completely. Where there is light there will always be darkness. That’s why maintaining the balance in our favor is so important. But to better answer your question, much like everything else in life, merging isn’t guaranteed. The power it takes is immeasurable. If you attempt to merge with a dark guardian more powerful than yourself and you don’t manage it, you can leave things worse off than before. It involves an enormous energy exchange … and transformation and is only to be used as a last resort. There has to be a particular type of connection between the two guardians—a willingness to take things beyond the natural order, opening yourself to risking the ultimate sacrifice.”

  “Does Alexander have that type of connection with Avestan?”

  Edwin meets my eyes. “I’ll answer it this way,” he says, “Avestan has that type of connection with Alexander. His hatred and thirst for vengeance causes him to take risks. It’s his power, but it’s also his liability.”

  I swallow. “Alexander once said he would merge with Avestan if he had to.” My stomach is in knots as I say the words.

  Edwin doesn’t respond.

  “Aren’t you shocked? You can’t let him do that.”

  “Declan, if it came down to saving your life, I could never stop Alexander from doing what was needed. And now that you have the baby to protect as well, any entreaties I could make on your behalf would be even less likely to have an impact on his actions. And, to be frank with you, I wouldn’t make them. Protecting your child is paramount.”

  “But Avestan is still recovering in Nusquam, right? How would he even know I’m pregnant? Even if he saw me right now, you can’t tell. I’m barely showing.”

  “Avestan isn’t the only one to worry about.”

  “You mean Alenna? You think she’ll come after me again, too?”

  “I was thinking of Malentus.”

  “But how would he know?” I ask, feeling very cold suddenly.

  “None of them know yet,” he says gravely, “but it’s only a matter of time. Avestan will figure out, eventually, that you’re pregnant and Alexander is the father. That’s why Alexander and I, and the other guardians, are prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure your baby is born safe. Because a child like yours, born of a guardian and a sprite, could very well tip the balance in our favor for good.”

  He takes my hands across the table and meets my eyes before he continues. “We can’t have any illusions about how this could go. These are grave stakes, dear. Grave stakes indeed.”

  Chapter Ten

  Edwin’s words weigh on me for the next few days as I focus on school and the life growing inside me. I thought the nausea was supposed to end after the first few months, but I’m well into my second trimester now and it still raises its ugly head on a regular basis. Like today, when I need to be at the Bing’s house. It’s Charlie’s sixth birthday and he begged me to come to his party the last time I babysat and I promised I would. Mrs. Bing actually hired me to come, regardless, because she needs my help as a babysitter/game manager for all the kids. Any other day I would be more than happy to celebrate with Charlie, whom I love dearly, but today I keep getting overcome with these awful waves of nausea … ugh.

  Maybe the party will distract me. I console myself with the fact that Molly won’t be there. She’s away at college in Santa Barbara, attending UCSB—another beautiful city on the coast where her Malibu Barbie looks must fit in perfectly. It’s been refreshingly pleasant lately to go over to the Bing’s to babysit, knowing she won’t be there to give me the perpetual Queen B stink eye. I wonder sometimes if poor Charlie feels the same way—like time without her around is a peaceful reprieve.

  When I arrive at Charlie’s house there are festive balloons tied to the fence by the walkway in the front yard. Mrs. Bing must have been watching for me because she strides out purposefully to greet me and I can tell that she’s already frazzled.

  “Oh, Declan, thank God you’re here. I should have asked you to come an hour ago. Some of the children arrived early and their parents simply dropped them off and left.” She looks at me with a ‘can-you-even-believe-these-people?’ expression of incredulous exasperation before continuing. “The man who’s running the laser tag game only just arrived. Thank God the kids are all set up and playing laser tag in the back yard now, I think. I’ll need you to help keep them occupied and then we can serve the pizza and cake and ice cream. I have some carnival-type games, too, in case they get bored. I’ll need you to run those and give out the prizes ....” Her words spill out in that brain-dump way she has of bulleting information at me, but I can see as she’s talking that she’s starting to slow down as she stares at me, looking me up and down in my yellow cap sleeve dress and sandals. It’s a cute, casual summer dress with an empire waist that Liz got me for my birthday. I don’t think it shows anything but I can tell
by the expression on Mrs. Bing’s face that she knows something about me is different but she can’t quite put her finger on it. I haven’t told her I’m pregnant since it’s not overtly obvious yet. Plus, I don’t want it to get back to Molly. She used to date Avestan and who knows if they’re still in touch somehow. From the look in Mrs. Bing’s eyes, I think she’s decided that I’ve just put on some weight. Which, in her mind, I’m sure is a point of horror. She’s wearing a fitted blue dress and she smooths her hand over her stomach self-consciously before she directs me to the side gate to enter the back yard and then conveniently vanishes, telling me she has to check on the pizza.

  I push the gate open and walk toward the sound of laser blasts and hollering kids.

  “Holy Schnitzel,” I whisper aloud, channeling Liz with my eyes wide, as I take in the sight before me.

  At least thirty six-year-olds are screaming and running haphazardly in every direction with laser tag guns and vests. The man running the game did his best setting up battle barriers, which actually appear to be simple L-shaped, rectangular frames erected with plastic PVC tubing and black felt fabric stretched across them and glued on. Numerous barriers are spread out all over the large expanse of green lawn so the kids have places to run and hide as they shoot and try not to get shot in return, but half of the barriers are already knocked down, and the other half look as if they’re not long for this world. One kid must have torn off the black fabric from one of them because he’s wearing it as a cape. Another kid disassembled the bare PVC frame and is now wielding the plastic tubes like swords. And another kid, dressed entirely in camouflage, is doing ninja rolls from one lonely, listing barrier to the next.

  I watch as the camouflage kid holds up his laser gun in the air and yells at the top of his lungs, “Who wants to join Eagle Squadron?” Then he whips his head left and right and does another five ninja rolls to the next barrier. The problem is, he keeps getting shot in his laser vest target repeatedly as he rolls because the remaining barriers are spread too far apart. Undaunted, he just keeps rolling—over and over and over again, completely out in the open—until he finally reaches cover once more, and when he gets to the next barrier he shouts out, over the cacophony of screaming boys and laser gun blasts, “If you want to join Eagle Squadron, take cover over here!”