Darker Side of Worlds (Guardians Book 2) (The Guardians Series) Read online

  Nothing eased his anger at Nessa for somehow leaving him. What was he going to do without her? How far would be too far of a line to cross to bring her back, if she even wanted to come back.

  His trench coat skimmed over the counter, and he sighed and paced the small length of his kitchen as he waited for the microwave to ding. The viewing window to Dale’s room was wide open, and he wasn’t certain what had angered him more; watching his brother break the rules again or seeing Dale lose complete control over the powers Ciara had given to him.

  The room was in flames. Not one inch of the room wasn’t touched by the fire, and Dale stood in the center of it all, without an ounce of regret on his face. Thankfully, his powers wouldn’t work on anything from his own world, so no real damage done. God forbid he’d been with a Guardian or using Ciara’s hoping power, then it would create damage.

  The Word Speaker had been only somewhat a threat to his side when he was teetering between light and dark before. Now, he could make or break the war if he was alive when it finally did occur, thanks to Ciara.

  “If it ever fucking occurs,” he snarled as he yanked the microwave door open as it beeped.

  It wasn’t the first time he had questioned if the war was real. After over a thousand years without so much as a ripple, he had a list of doubts. Unless something had changed, neither he nor his brother knew much about Huracan and only trusted he was a God because of the powers he’d gifted them. In reality, there was no real reason to believe the fight was real.

  He looked up once more at the viewing doorway to Dale’s room. The fire still danced all over the boy’s body, and he hadn’t even bothered to control himself after seeing what he’d done to his surroundings. Sooner or later, Dale was going to figure out how to control a few more of the gifts Ciara didn’t even knew she had given him, and the whole group of them might be damned when he did.

  With a sigh, he walked toward the table with his pathetic excuse for a meal. “You can’t blame anyone but yourself for this.”

  He’d known it was a risk to give Ciara what she wanted, and not just because they weren’t allowed to interfere. However, he’d been watching the pair of them together, and Dale had seemed to have picked a side, the right side. Even as the days passed without Ciara to ground him with her own spirit, Nessa had seemed to do it.

  “So why the hell did that mermaid not stick?” He squeezed the fork in his hand so hard the metal bent, and he dropped it on the table. “Huracan, if you did this to punish me for helping Ciara, that’s interfering too!”

  The shout was useless, the God came and went as he pleased, and until recently, it was a rare event. Still, that didn’t mean he hadn’t punished Dale for his role in helping, since he could no longer reach Ciara or Stryder.

  Nessa had been the boy’s match. He could feel it. She had calmed Dale in a way no other could, and she had been teaching him, not just about her world but about himself. He’d tried to be better because he wanted both Ciara and his Guardian’s approval. They were equal in every way.

  “Except they aren’t anymore. Fuck!” he growled and jumped up so fast the chair flew backward.

  Nessa and Dale had been a perfect match when he’d had nothing extraordinary about his gifts, other than that he was a Word Speaker to begin with. Now, his gifts were the strongest that anyone knew about.

  “Which means Nessa, like Alcott, was no longer enough.”

  He didn’t like the look on Dale’s face. He didn’t have to ask to know what the Word Speaker had been thinking, Dale was going to do something foolish, and after all the times he’d helped the last two Word Speakers, he was completely unable to help.

  He growled and picked the chair upright. His whole being itched with the desire to visit Dale, but his muscles still remembered the beating and torture he’d taken for helping his last two charges find ways out of the war and find happiness. His job description wasn’t granting happy endings. It was collecting Word Speakers and Guardians to fight on his side of the prophesized war. He needed to remember that.

  His brother might be willing to break another set of rules, but he wasn’t. Huracan was watching, possibly now more than ever after his indiscretions. Dale needed to find his way back to the right side of the war on his own.

  Chapter Two

  Dale’s head throbbed, and he slowly peeled his eyes open. The room was dark, thanks to his blackout curtains, but it didn’t stop him from flinching in pain. He groaned as he rolled and groaned again when his hand slammed into the almost empty Jack Daniels bottle.

  Dale couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a drink, let alone three-quarters of a fucking bottle. “That’s not true,” he groaned aloud as he forced himself to set up. “College. The one fucking time you thought you belonged.”

  His mind immediately flashed to the only wild night he had ever had. He’d been eighteen and an MIT undergrad. Boston and Cambridge were his playgrounds. Or that’s what he’d told himself as he’d piled onto the redline MBTA train with seven other people illegally pledged to a math fraternity. He couldn’t even remember the name, but at the time, it had seemed like a blessing. It hadn’t really been Greek, which had been even more appealing to him. Breaking a rule, like no fraternities and sororities on campus, had just been a silver lining.

  Until he’d wound up vomiting his guts up underground at the Park Street station while the brothers laughed and kicked at him. “Real fucking good ending this time too.” His whole body trembled as he pushed himself off the bed.

  He wasn’t certain if he was going to be sick yet, but he stumbled into the bathroom, just in case. His eyes landed on the book on the counter—Death’s Delight—Ciara’s copy actually. He left the book in the strangest places because he typically had to force himself to put it down. Supposedly, the rule was once a book was over, the Word Speaker was unable to access anything from it. That would include the super special world walking power. His name for it, not Ciara’s. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Ciara yet. She’d been the one to really kick his ass into gear, and he liked that he could still check in with her sometimes.

  Content that he wasn’t going to puke at all, his hand swiped at and picked up the book. Ciara was the one person who could assure him Leather Jacket was wrong.

  He slowly walked out to his living room and eyed the space. There were memories floating over almost every surface, and the thought brought a snarl to his lips as he gently lowered himself to the couch. The book was his last lifeline. His eyes shifted over to the digital clock on the cable box. Almost eleven a.m., but would Leather Jacket return now that his taunts and messages had been delivered?

  He pulled open the book to the page he was on and wished for the millionth time that he could just keep rereading the same few pages over and over because, sooner or later, he would have to finish the book. If the rules went unbroken, he wouldn’t receive another Guardian until he finished it. He leaned back into the couch and let the words on the page seep into his mind.

  It was strange, to read the words and have tangible images of at least Stryder. Knowing the threat they faced from The Initiative was terrifying as well. The group had made a few quick appearances while he and Ciara had been training one another on various things. He knew that one of their higher officers, Jonathan, was dead. However, in the book, the man was alive and well and just about to lose his wife to demons, which would set him on a path to Hell.

  Almost twenty pages later, Dale closed his eyes and focused on the only location in the book that he’d read thus far that would take him to the Horseman and Ciara. “Will they even know who she is? Who I am?”

  Being a Word Speaker came with rules like anything else, but it also came with harsh realities for the Guardians once they learned what they were. When a Guardian wasn’t paired with a Word Speaker, their life was nothing more than the words on the pages. When a Word Speaker was present, their lives continued.

  Ciara had picked the book world over her own, and it had generated so many fuckin
g unanswered questions in his mind. He didn’t even know if she was alive. She had given him her powers, she wasn’t a Word Speaker any longer, and she certainly wasn’t a product of the author, Marie Ladaont. So he could be reading his way right into a novel where he was likely to pull a muscle bound demon as his next Guardian….and get stuck with him after his birthday.

  His eyes flew open, and he stopped picturing the run down bar in New Orleans that the four brothers frequented. Could he handle never having the sexual thrill he felt with Nessa? Or finding the loving connection Ciara shared with Stryder? Moreover, did he have any choice in the matter, since Guardians and Word Speakers were paired on a soul-deep level based on a connection that aligned their powers, not a potential love match.

  “I can answer all those questions you know.”

  Dale dropped the book onto the floor and flinched when it landed with a thud as the familiar voice reached out from across the room to him. He turned to face his bedroom, and a small shudder raced through his body at the sight of Leather Jacket. The man had a grin on his face and was practically sauntering toward Dale.

  “If you would like to know what became of Ciara, I mean. I can answer all those questions.” He sat down on the couch far too close for Dale’s liking.

  His heart was thudding in his chest. The man in the trench coat hadn’t been around since the day he’d given Dale the powers, which meant this could very well be his only way to find out about his friend. However, taking help from the enemy led him one-step closer to being with the enemy.

  As nonchalantly as he could, he picked the book up from the floor and set it on the brown wood table, doing his best not to make any eye contact with the man in the room.

  “Ignoring me will not make me go away. It won’t answer your questions, and it won’t bring Nessa back.” The man flashed in front of Dale’s TV, forcing eye contact. “Getting a questioned answered by me won’t damn your soul or your powers. Honestly, what has my brother been telling you people?”

  The allure of answers was growing stronger every time Leather Jacket offered it. Dale swallowed hard, and it felt as if he was choking down stones as his throat cringed in pain and his stomach felt as if it was going to lose the alcohol he’d drank the night before.

  “Tick tock, tick tock. What’s it going to be Dale? Endless wonder, diving into a world where they could kill you on sight, or sleeping with the enemy for answers?”

  “What happened to her? Is she living in an endless loop? Were they even able to be together once she lost her powers, since she’s not a book creation?” He bit his tongue hard to stop from blurting any other questions out. He didn’t like that he had given in so easily, but it wasn’t as if he was falling to the dark side by asking questions.

  “You’ll be happy to know your little friend is alive and well. She had her powers transferred to you. But, she still has her soul. She’s still exactly what makes her a Word Speaker. Now if it had been me, I would’ve ripped her soul from her body, just to ensure that anyone deserting my side of the war got nothing from it. Alas, my brother isn’t me and killing one of you breaks more rules than altering your fate. I’ll be honest, I’m still surprised he had the balls to do anything at all.”

  Dale let out a sigh of relief and narrowed his gaze at the man. His comment about ripping her soul from her body wasn’t lost on him, but it was not the time. “So you’re certain their world is progressing forward and she’s happy?”

  “Sickeningly so. If you took a moment and Googled the author, you’d even see she died in a horrific car accident almost a week after Ciara went to live in that world. No more books, no other ending for Stryder, other than the one he got. All wrapped up in a pretty little bow.”

  Leather Jacket dropped back onto the couch and kicked his feet up onto the table. “And as for the next question, you’re undoubtedly thinking, I’ll provide an answer. Due to her powers, her book world could continue, even without her in it, so long as she had Guardian from it. So whatever Guardian you choose, their world will continue when you’re not with them in it. Blame it on too much combined power, but it’s resonating so strongly within you, it will happen. Almost as if you want the world to continue for your Guardian when you aren’t in it.”

  Dale’s face blanched, he hated that Leather Jacket could somehow read his mind. He was correct though, Dale did want to know if the excess in powers would allow his Guardian’s world to continue without him.

  “So, how about we take care of that other little question I can feel you dying to ask.”

  Dale froze. The last question he wanted to ask was about his own Guardian, about his own chances. That wasn’t information he wanted from this brother, though. He couldn’t even trust Ciara was okay, but Leather Jacket had been trying to win him over for too long. If he did lie, sending Dale into a world that was likely to get him killed was foolish.

  “So he has to be telling the truth.”

  “You know, simply because you whispered it, doesn’t mean I didn’t hear you say that.” the man’s voice was filled with mirth.

  Dale whipped his head toward him. “If you really will answer the question you think I am waiting to ask, what damage does it to do my soul?

  The man burst out laughing so hard that Dale thought it looked as if he was having a seizure of sorts. The noise was so callous, Dale flinched away from him, his ears hurting from the almost inhuman sound.

  “I can’t believe you think talking to me could affect your fucking soul. I can’t even believe you think your soul has anything to do with your stance on the war.” Leather Jacket pulled his feet off the table and put them on the floor before leaning too close to Dale’s ear. “Your side in the war depends on your response to the darker seductions in life. You can no more outrun the path of the war you were always supposed to fight for than you can avoid sleeping. Sorry to tell you, Dale, you belong to who you’ve always belonged too, and there’s no outrunning it.”

  Dale gagged at the thought that everything he and Ciara had done and been through was a waste. Then he processed the man’s words and sat up a little straighter, a ball of fire growing in his hands. “You didn’t say whose side I was supposed to be on this time. You didn’t brag, didn’t sneer at your brother or anything like normal.” He lifted his hand to show off the basketball-sized glow of fire. “Which means, it just might not be your side.”

  Leather Jacket’s face tensed up. Dale’s eyes followed the line of tension through his entire body. He’d pissed the man off, and despite all his talk, he wasn’t killing Dale.

  “You’re either afraid of breaking those rules of yours more than you admit. Or, you need me alive because I’m the most powerful weapon either of you has right now.”

  In an instant, his back was pressed into the arm of the couch, and he could feel his body bending backward over it. He tried to fling a ball of fire, but the man put his hand over Dale’s, and he could feel the burning sensation seeped into his own hand. He felt hit after hit crack into his nose, and he distinctly tasted blood drip into his mouth.

  Rage coursed through him, and he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the electric current running through him, thanks to Ciara and her past Guardian. All at once, he felt himself grab onto the tiny tendril of electricity and shoot it into the man’s body.

  He heard a curse and felt a slash of what must have been claws to his shoulder, and then Dale could sit upright again and the beating had stopped. Pain stung almost every inch of the top of his body, and he winced as he forced his eyes to open. Blood from a cut on his forehead dropped into his right eye and he hissed. It took force to make his eyes open despite the sting.

  Leather Jacket was standing in the kitchen, his eyes almost glowing silver, and Dale swore he saw fang’s poking out from the man’s curled lip.

  “You won’t get a chance to land an attack again, Dale Evanhart. Consider yourself lucky. I underestimated just how much power Ciara Miller had in her little body. Now I know, and it won’t happen again. I think I
’m done helping you. If that is the thanks I get.”

  “Wait! Stop!” The words flew out of Dale’s mouth even as he tried to stop them.

  The last thing he should have wanted was the man, god, or whatever he was, around. Nevertheless, at the moment, he was offering answers. After the bomb he’d dropped the day before, Dale was in no place to turn them down. Even as Leather Jacket turned to look at him with a grin, so infused with evil it made Dale’s skin crawl, he needed those answers.

  “I can’t answer it unless you ask it. We’ll say it’s one of the rules.”

  Dale blew out a deep breath. “Can you make it so I can try for another Guardian without having to finish the only book published that can take me to Ciara?”

  “Now how did a computer genius learn how to properly manipulate language like that? No matter, the answer to that is yes, but it’s breaking all the rules.”

  Dale felt his frown form at the words. There were so many fucking rules, and it was time the Word Speakers got a damned list.

  “Good thing for you, I’m not my brother. I want to win, and I have no problem taking some pain and punishment for doing things that ensure my side sees victory. You see, my side isn’t evil. My brother has twisted that too. My side is anarchy. I may have access to demons and devils from mythology, or I may not. Regardless, my side might just mean that the humans with the darkest souls take control.”

  Dale’s breathing was shallow and his heart was racing. There would be no way to go back from this if he accepted the man’s deal. He could feel sweat forming in his armpits as the weight of the situation began to encase his body. There was no good or bad. There was only his survival, his chance at a Guardian.

  “And if I accept?”

  “Well then, dear Dale, you’ll be safe to try and find a Guardian before your birthday, of course.”

  “I’ll have my free will to choose any that I want? Any book to read, any character my soul connects with?” Any female, because I’m not sharing a connection that soul deep with a man. Ever.