Guardians (Seers Trilogy) (12 page)

“
Get
from him?”

My less than graceful reaction didn’t seem to affect her. “Yes. Before you end things.”

I didn’t care what my expression looked like—I was too shocked by her words to keep my surprise in check. “End things? You mean, when I die?” It felt a little weird, being blamed for dying, like it was a dumb accident I could avoid with a little smarts.

Her slim eyebrows drew together. “No. I mean when you leave him.”

“What do you mean, leave him? I’m not going to leave him.”

She looked genuinely confused. “Surely you can’t be serious. No Seer stays in this world for long. Some make it ten years, but those are the strong ones.” She saw my shoulders stiffen, and she inclined her head respectfully. “I mean no offense. But you’ve already lost so much. You want a normal life, Kate. A steady life. Patrick cannot give you that.”

I bristled, but tried to keep my tone conversationally polite because I knew she wasn’t trying to be antagonistic. At least, I didn’t think she was. “I love Patrick. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“The words of a love-struck romantic who’s had no taste of reality,” Claire interrupted, her voice smoothly accented. “You will mature and age—he will not. You will see friends and family grow, see them with nice houses and jobs. They will not live in constant fear of Demons. They will have children—eventually grandchildren—and you will not. With Patrick, these things are not possible. Those around you will lead normal lives, and you will long for that. It’s only natural. And you will look on at their happiness, knowing that theirs can go on forever, while death will eternally separate you from Patrick.”

I swallowed hard. Mostly because she’d touched on some sore topics. I hadn’t actually gotten up the nerve to ask Patrick about the possibility of, well . . . having a family together. And here was perhaps my least-favorite Guardian dashing my hopes with a few short words and without any real explanation of
how
. Still, I didn’t want her to see my hurt. I tried to keep my voice even. “I know. I’ve considered those things—”

A single eyebrow rose, stopping my words. “Have you? Your eyes tell a different story, Kate.”

I felt my gaze narrow. “Look, I know you’re trying to be thoughtful, but this really isn’t—”

“I’m not doing this for you alone,” she overrode my protest, her eyes almost flashing with the intensity of her emotions. “This is for Patrick’s sake as well. It will be easy for you to move on, but it is infinitely harder for an immortal to forget.” She cocked her head at me, her small face open and honest. Her words felt so cold. “Are you simply looking for someone to hold you during your period of weakness and mourning? Someone to kiss you when you feel afraid? Someone to whisper loving words in your self-doubting ear? Because if that’s all you require, it would be best for Patrick if you were to seek comfort elsewhere.”

My face was flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. My voice was low, but it wavered with the rush of emotion I was feeling. “I don’t know where this is coming from, but you have no right to judge me like that.”

“Judge you? I aim to help you. To show you what your infatuation entails, so you can stop this before you and Patrick become even more enamored with each other.”

“I love him. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him. No matter what I have to sacrifice.”

She actually sighed. “Even if this isn’t just a passing fancy, you’re not thinking about what’s best for Patrick. If by some miracle you are able to live a long and happy life together, you will die. There’s no stopping that. And where will that leave him? Alone and aching.
Forever
. Surely you don’t want that for him?”

“So you think I should just break up with him and start the separation now? Great idea, thanks.”

My sarcasm wasn’t lost on her. Her mouth twitched. “I don’t want you to torture him needlessly. Not only that, but—you don’t deserve to be stuck in this world. You didn’t make that choice.”

“Maybe I didn’t choose to be a Seer. But I’ve made my choice where Patrick’s concerned. And no matter how good intentioned you are, you can’t change my mind.”

She was silent for a moment—I thought maybe I’d convinced her to keep her mouth shut—but then she spoke steadily. “I know from personal experience that you are making a terrible mistake.”

That stopped me. I couldn’t just toss out a reflexive, “Oh yeah?” Instead I simply waited for her to continue.

She did, slowly. “I was once in love with a mortal—a Seer. He promised to stay with me. He was . . .” She straightened in her chair. “I let my guard fall, put down my defenses. We were together for almost two years before he moved on.”

I knew her hurt was genuine, so I tried to soften my firm words. “Claire, I’m sorry. But you’re not Patrick. And I would never leave him.”

Her chin lifted a fraction, her abrupt smile fake and chilling. “Every story is different, it’s true. But each one has an ending. Don’t forget that, Kate.” She stood suddenly, tossing a nod toward my cereal. “Enjoy your breakfast,” she said quickly, turning and treading lithely from the room.

***

I forced myself to eat, though I hated soggy cereal, and, for the record, I really wasn’t all that hungry anymore. I was more bothered by Claire’s attempt at conversation than any secure person should be, but I knew that wasn’t because I believed she had a point.

Okay, so maybe I could see where she was coming from. Mostly I was just annoyed that she’d think so lowly of me. It seemed wrong that she’d even attempt to judge me, because she hardly knew me. I was also bugged that she’d brought up some things I’d been carefully avoiding up until this point. Suddenly my head was filled with all these new things I’d never thought deeply about—most important, Patrick’s feelings. I mean, I knew he loved me. But what if Claire was right and our relationship only hurt him in the end? What if he ended up as lonely and crabby as her? It wasn’t something I’d considered thoroughly before, but now it was all I could think about.

So much for a relaxing Saturday.
Thanks a lot, Claire.

I rinsed out my dish and placed it in the dishwasher, wiping my hands on a nearby towel before moving to put the milk away. That’s when the doorbell rang, signaling Patrick’s arrival. I closed the fridge and crossed the kitchen, quickly moving through the entryway. I reached for the door and managed to pull it open before the twins started crashing down the stairs.

The sunlight did amazing things to Patrick’s hair. It highlighted the dark brown strands while making some parts look decidedly blond. It was a good look for him. The scattered freckles on his smooth face were even more obvious in the sun, and his beautiful eyes seemed to glow when they met mine. His hands were in his pockets, but he was already drawing them back out to wrap me in an embrace, right there in the doorway.

“Good morning,” he whispered near my ear, despite the twins yelling a chorus of “gross” in the background. His encircling arms around my shoulders were tight yet gentle. Setting the side of my face against his firm chest was the natural, easy thing to do. My own arms flexed around his waist, my hands rubbing against his lower back as I attempted to draw him closer. As I embraced him, I listened to the sound of his heart beneath my cheek, felt the deep breaths he took, smelled the scent of lingering soap on his skin. The fears Claire had awakened—even the ones I hadn’t before acknowledged—receded, and I tilted my head up so I could place my lips to his strong jaw.

“Good morning,” I breathed in answer, sliding my mouth along his skin with closed eyes.

I felt him shiver, and I inwardly thrilled at the thought that I could affect him in the same way he affected me.

His head shifted and our cheeks brushed together briefly before he pressed his lips to my left temple. His voice was barely audible. “I need to take you out more often.”

My mouth twisted into a smile, my eyes cracking open so I could find his lips with my own. They slid together, fitting with a perfection I doubted could be improved with time. His kiss tightened my stomach and made my heart thump and my lungs constrict. His fingertips on my shoulders seemed to be filled with warm electricity. Everywhere he touched began to tingle, and when one hand lifted to cup my jaw, my knees weakened dramatically.

“Yo, Kate!” Josie griped at the base of the stairs. “Are you going to let him in or not?”

“At least go up to your room,” Jenna groaned, sounding completely disgusted.

Patrick smiled against my mouth and then leaned away to face the twins, one supporting arm still wrapped around my waist. “And how are you two?” he asked easily. I wondered how he managed to sound so normal—I was still pretty breathless, and my cheeks were warm, knowing I’d forgotten my sisters were present.

Josie’s nose wrinkled. “I’m scarred for life.”

“Me too,” Jenna agreed, pretending to be sick over the banister.

I rolled my eyes at them but didn’t dare speak. I didn’t want my sisters to hear how my voice would surely waver.

I don’t know if Patrick knew my thoughts, but he spoke quickly anyway, drawing attention back to him. “So, what have you girls been doing this morning?”

“Being bored.”

“Want to join us?” Jenna asked, hopeful.

He hesitated. “Well, I don’t really like being bored. Do you have any other ideas?”

In a minute, he regretted asking. Josie proposed we have a Guitar Hero tournament—a game Patrick had somehow avoided playing until now. If the twins thought it was odd that he’d never played before, they didn’t reveal it. Or maybe their excitement managed to hide it. But in a few minutes, we were all in the family room, and Josie and Patrick were battling each other while Jenna and I waited on the couch for our turns. Josie did a lot of showing off, which was to be expected. She played on the “expert” setting, complete with dance moves and occasional bursts of singing.

At least Patrick was familiar with many of the more popular songs. Probably thanks to Toni for that one. His quick reflexes also came in handy, though it was obvious he wasn’t much of a gamer. He had hand-eye coordination, but he was used to using those skills in a fight, not for fun. Still, his ability to adapt quickly to new things saved him from losing too badly.

When the song was over, Patrick pulled the guitar strap over his head, handing the thing gingerly to Jenna. “Good luck,” he told her simply.

She just laughed, her long hair wavering as she stood up from the couch. “You were even on easy,” she told him. She fiddled with the strap, trying to make it smaller. The guitar started to slip from her grasp, but Patrick was quick to hold it for her. Once it was the right size for her eleven-year-old body, Jenna slung the guitar over her head, and soon the twins were playing the hardest song on the game.

Patrick lowered himself next to me, his eyes wide on the colorful screen. “Holy. Cow.” His voice grew more pinched. “How do you even hit all those notes?”

“Pure luck,” I muttered.

“Practice,” Jenna grunted, jerking the guitar up harshly.

“Talent,” Josie disagreed with a shake of her head. Her fingers flitted quickly, but her stance was easy—almost lazy.

I slid my fingers into Patrick’s hand and we watched my sisters play without saying another word.

When the song was over, Josie surrendered her guitar to me. I shrugged it on and Jenna and I had a turn together. I wasn’t great, but I was able to hit most of the notes on the “medium” setting. While I was still holding out the last chord Josie urged Patrick to take Jenna’s guitar.

“Come on! You can beat Kate!”

“That I doubt.” But that didn’t stop him from taking his place beside me. As we started to play I was struck once again by the normalcy of the moment. Just like last night, I felt like we were a normal couple. Only this time I had Claire’s words running through my head the whole time. Wherever Claire was hiding in the house, I mentally thanked her—very sarcastically—then tried to focus back on the game.

Grandma came home just as the song was ending and she asked for all of us to help carry in the groceries. It took a few trips to haul all the bags inside, and an invisible Toni sat at the table the whole time, smug in the knowledge that he didn’t have to share in the work.

Once the groceries were in, Jenna dragged Patrick back to the family room so she could have her turn to “beat Kate’s boyfriend.” They were such little sisters.

I wandered in behind them, with Toni following near my elbow. “So you’re teaching him how to play? Sweet. Maybe he’ll get addicted and let me steal one.”

I shot him a look since Patrick couldn’t—the song had started—and spoke softly. “You’re a lost cause.”

“And proud of it.” He watched Patrick, then began to cluck his tongue sadly. “Man, he sucks.” He raised his voice. “You hear that Patrick? You suck!” He turned back to me, his voice normal once more. “So where’s Claire?”

“In the living room, I think,” I said, hanging back so the twins wouldn’t have a chance of hearing me.

“Sweet.” Toni grinned. “I swear I’m going to teach that girl how to flirt, even if it takes a hundred years.” He turned to leave, but something made me reach out and grab his arm.

“Toni,” I hesitated, then kept my voice below a whisper. “I have something I want to ask you. It’s a little . . . awkward.”

“Now, now, things are only awkward if you believe them to be,” he chimed happily. At least he followed my lead and kept his voice lowered. I didn’t think Patrick could hear us.

I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to be asking this, but I was seizing the moment. “Come here,” I whispered, reaching for his wrist.

“Gracious, Kate!” Toni burst out loudly, making Patrick practically whirl around. “I can’t
believe
you’d ask me that—how incredibly awkward!”

“Shut up,” I growled, my cheeks warming with color.

The twins yelled for Patrick to pay attention, and though his eyes met mine quickly in question, he turned back to the game. I hoped the twins would keep him busy for a couple more songs.

I glared at Toni, yanking on his wrist to drag him from the room. I pulled him through the kitchen and down the entryway, pausing when I realized I’d have to take him upstairs to avoid anyone hearing this conversation. Especially Claire, who was reading in a large armchair in the living room