Chloe's Guardian (The Nephilim Redemption Series Book 1) (13 page)

The sanctuary was peaceful and quiet. It felt good. With a deep breath Horatius closed his eyes, concentrated, and tuned into the Chatter.

First it came in torrents, then he singled out the voices from the correct quadrant. Discussions about the Keith Clan, its different generations and family lines, led him to the right group of Pure. By isolating those conversations and blocking out the others, Mebahel’s voice became clear.

“Hello, Horatius. Checking in so soon?”

I just wanted to report that I have saved the girl several times.

Leviah was nearby and he chuckled.

“Good. That is why you are there.”

It seems circumstances are worked out here for her. Her life is better. I am ready to finish up. To come back.

The long silence that followed made Horatius wonder what they were thinking.

“Horatius. There is much more to Guardianship than a few heroic saves.”

Yes, but—

“Do not kid yourself,” Leviah said. “You are in for the long haul. It will take far more time than this to accomplish anything worthwhile.”

“Focus on issues greater than just circumstantial,” Mebahel said.

“The girl’s spirit is demoralized. She needs to find the source of hope,” Jabamiah chimed in. “That does not happen over night.”

“It can take years,” Leviah said. “Years.”

“Give it at least another week,” Mebahel said. His tone included the sound of a smile. “Then we will talk again, all right?”

“Do not be discouraged. You have great potential, Horatius. You are very sincere in your desire for redemption,” Jabamiah said.

Horatius closed his mind and the Chatter disappeared.

A week? Can I last another week?
Maybe, if he got focused and was able to stay off the booze. He’d make the girl’s life come together. The Celestials wanted her encouraged? He could do that. He just needed a good plan, based on an accurate assessment of what she needed.

And what she needed was a better job and a new boyfriend. Easy. Then she’d be safe
and
happy. He would help her with her résumé and applications. They’d mingle with some new people and find a boy to take her mind off that oaf Todd. Maybe this church had a youth group where she could meet a reasonable boy.

Before he left the church, he filled out one of the flyers by the door with Chloe’s contact information and indicated she was interested in learning more. He left the church and went back to her house.

This time, her sister had the door open before he took his hand from the doorbell. Her head was down, and she was concentrating on her cell, texting.

“Finally. I’ve been— Oh, it’s just you.”

“Unfortunately, yes. It is I.” Her bright red nose was faded, and her eyes were less droopy.

“You’re supposed to be Benji’s babysitter.”

“That, I am not.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I am
so
late. I should have left twenty minutes ago.” She checked her cell phone. “Mom took Nana to a doctor’s appointment and left me with Benji. But I’m supposed to meet Claire and Bethany at the mall. We’re seeing a movie. Then I don’t know what. We’ll hang out probably. At the mall. But I can’t if I’m here with Benji, can I?”

“Ah. I am sorry. But is your sister here?”

“Of course not, or I wouldn’t be stuck.” She came out onto the porch and plopped onto the glider bench and rocked rapidly back and forth.

“Is she at work?”

“Nope. Larkspur.” A text chimed in and her thumbs blurred to send a reply.

“Ah.” It meant nothing to him. “Larkspur?”

“The festival. Renaissance Festival. We go every year. Used to anyway. She and Todd take—took me. But not this year. They are…” She drew a finger across her neck and mouthed
over
. “It’s my birthday next Saturday. I’ll be sixteen. You can get me something nice, since you keep showing up. A silver bracelet, maybe?” She held up her naked wrist. “I’ll share my cake with you. I’ll have to make one myself this year, I guess. Unless you want to bring it. Mom won’t get it. She hardly gets out of bed anymore. Tony won’t even remember. He forgot last year and he hadn’t even moved out yet. Chocolate, of course. The cake. I like Mermaids Bakery. It’s downtown. The Turtle Dove. Dark chocolate, cream cheese. Pecans and caramel. You’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven. Unlike their Heaven cake. That has fruit and
zucchini
in it. Who ever heard of
that
?” She stopped and stared like it was his turn to ramble high speed nonsense at her now.

“This festival. What is it? Where is Larkspur?”

Her phone chimed again and she took a second to text back.

“I love it. We can go next weekend, okay? You can drive. I won’t have my license till Monday. And you
have
to wear a costume. Everyone does, or they don’t let you in. It’s south of here, a little past Castle Rock. Chloe went today to spy on that idiot Todd and her replacement,
Rebecca
.” She said the name in a pinched voice with a sour face. “So, want to go? On Saturday day with me? And bring the cake? They have different sizes. I like the biggest round one.”

She talked so fast, he had to pause a moment to let his brain catch up with her words. While he tried to process, her eyes suddenly opened wide.

“Hey,
you
could watch Benji. Mom should be back soon. Only an hour or two. Or so. He’s a good kid. Just don’t let him have peanuts. He’ll blow up like a puffer fish. He likes piggyback rides. And that way you’ll know where he—”

“No, no. No no no. Hold on. I don’t like children. And they most certainly do not like me.”

He backed down the stairs, but Michelle jumped up off the glider and skipped down the steps past him.

“Come back here. I did not say I would. I have things—”

“Thanks!” she yelled as she ran down the street, not slowing at all.

“Wait. Come back here,” he called out, running to the edge of the yard. She disappeared around the corner. “Of all the—” He cursed several crude words but turned and found two young eyes staring at him from the doorway. The words coming out stopped and got stuck in his throat. It took a moment to regain his composure under the gaze of the little boy wearing green pajamas with dinosaurs.

“Hello.” They stared at each other. Horatius didn’t know what to do. “I really cannot take care of you. I have to go to Larkspur and find your sister.”

He didn’t answer.

“Really. I must go. Go back inside now and play, or watch television or whatever little people like you do.” They stared at each other some more.

Those little eyes looked so trusting.

“I have a lot to get done and very little time in which to do it. I really want to get circumstances in line so I can go back home. If I can just find Chloe, I can get this worked out and be on my way.” He couldn’t believe he was justifying himself to a little child wearing flannel dinosaurs.

The boy stepped forward and held out his hand to give something to Horatius. The gesture elicited unexpected fear.
What might he be handing me?
A writhing, half chewed worm? A gooey booger stuck on his finger?

“How about you keep it, eh? I don’t need one of those.”

When his fingers opened, Horatius flinched. But all that was in his little palm was a tiny rubber tyrannosaurus rex. And it looked free of debris—gooey or otherwise.

How ridiculous. Even embarrassing. “Ah, a very nice dinosaur you have there, little fellow. Nice dinosaur. Oh, you want me to take it? You better keep it. I can’t take your nice little toy there.” The boy moved it closer, like he wouldn’t accept no for an answer.

“Okay, for just a minute though. I will watch it for you.” Horatius reached for it, but the boy pulled it back just before Horatius got it. A huge smile split his face and he laughed like bells ringing.

“Twicked ya,” he said.

It took a moment to realize the boy was only playing with him. The boy held it out again, his face serious.

“You know the saying,
fool me once
,
shame on you. Fool me twice
.... Well, maybe you don’t.”

His palm still held the toy out toward Horatius.

With a swift move, Horatius snatched it. The boy’s eyes opened wide and Horatius realized his mistake. Just as he started to hand it back to the tyke with apologies ready, the ringing laugh started again.

“Now you do it to me,” the boy said. “Let me twy.”

Remarkable. He’s unexpectedly cute. And not terribly annoying.
“Okay. But first, tell me your name.”

“Benji, silly.”

“Okay then, Benji Silly. Now it is your turn. See if you can grab it, Benji Silly.”

They played a few more rounds with Horatius holding the dinosaur and letting Benji Silly try to snatch it away.

“Okay, you keep it now. I really need to go. Let’s get you settled inside and I will be on my way.”

“You can’t leave me alone. I’m only—” He held up four fingers. “This many. You have to wait till Mommy comes back.”

“I can’t stay here. I have things to do. I need to go to Larkspur.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Take me with you.”

“I can’t take you with me.”
He may be cute, but he’s not
that
cute.

“Why not?”

“Why not? Well, that is obvious. You’re just a child.”

The little trusting eyes looked at him again.

“Mommy takes me.”

“To the Renaissance Festival?”

He nodded.

“That is not a period the young should see. It is practically medieval. Plague, war, pillage, rape—” Horatius pulled his lips in and clamped down. He had not meant to say all that to a four-year-old.

“What’s those things?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Um, it is just bad people. Bullies. You have heard of bullies? No? Well, they are people who are not nice.”

“I’ll get my pack-pack. And a juice box and some goldfish. Come on.” He went into the house. From inside he called, “Do you want some goldfish?”

Horatius shook his head. He could not believe he was considering this. “
Hic sunt dracones
,” he muttered to himself. Probably even worse than dragons in unchartered waters.
He pulled off his Ray-Bans and followed the little kid inside, wondering what in the world he was getting himself into.

***

Chloe hid in the shadow of a tree, watching from behind the dark side of its trunk. The air smelled of suntan lotion, manure, and beer, depending on which way the breeze blew. Cheered on by raucous spectators, two men dressed in medieval battle gear kicked their horses toward each other in the fenced yard, their lances aimed at each other’s chest plate. She didn’t notice who knocked off whom because her attention turned to the faces in the bleachers, scanning the people for Todd. The picnickers on the grass around her were already eliminated. Plenty of under-clad onlookers, red from the sun and squinting to see the show. But no Todd.

“Chloe?” A hand landed on her shoulder from behind.

A shot of adrenaline hit her heart and she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want Todd to find her first. A whole different scenario had played out in her head—with her in control, her looking calm and nonchalant, not desperately hiding behind a tree.

Slowly, she turned around, sorting like lightening through the possible ideas to explain herself.

Horace
. Horace was there, all seven-feet-or-so-tall of him, decked out in the most ostentatious, gaudy costume she’d ever seen.

“What are you doing here?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you.”

“Are you working here?” She gestured to his getup, hoping his presence was a coincidence.

“I am looking for you.”

“You just happened to look here?”

“Yes. I thought of this exact tree and came. See? I was right.” He gave her that mirror-perfected smile again.

“Michelle told you.” Chloe would have to teach that girl to keep her mouth shut. “What do you want?” He couldn’t find out she was looking for Todd. He’d think it was pathetic.

“Hi, Chloe,” a young voice said, coming from behind the puffy pant leg of the hulking mass of Horace.

It took a second to process it was Benji. “What are you doing here? How’d you get here?”

“We came in a tacky cab.”

“You brought him with you? Is Michelle here, too?” She looked behind them for her sister. All she needed was an entire circus troupe hanging around.

“Shelly went to a movie. We playing. He’s fun.”

Of course Benji liked him. Benji craved attention. And he’d especially enjoy it from a giant with a friendly smile. “What are you wearing? Where’d you get that?” His clothes were the exact same costume that Horace wore, only a tiny replica. His
Cars
backpack was in stark contrast to the golden brocade and braiding. “Aren’t you dying in this heat?” Then to Horace, “You can’t dress little kids in stuff like this. He’ll get heat stroke.”