Chapter 3

Guardian Mansion

Concealed location deep in the Snowy Mountains

Sweat poured down Raven's spine and any minute now his sneakers would gift him with a face-plant over the side of the treadmill. Lactic acid burned his thighs and the machine whined loudly with each heavy thump of his feet, as though it screamed for him to take out the little red tag and force things to a halt.

But he wouldn’t give in.

His mind still raced, even though his limbs throbbed.

And to top it off—if that was possible—someone had messed with the songs on his iPod, switching them for shitty dance versions, torturing his ear drums with a techno-mix of songs he, until now, enjoyed. One bloody guess as to the identity of the culprit.

Like right now, why did whoever-it-was feel the need to dance-up Ed Sheeran? Weren’t his songs dancey enough? And what the fuck was Ed Sheeran doing on his playlist in the first place?

He should just bite the bullet and learn how to upload a playlist on his own.

Although, the remixes did get his legs pumping, which was the whole point. Not that he’d admit that to EJ.

“Screw this,” he groaned, ripping the earbuds out as some young punk blasted through the tiny speakers.

Calling it quits, Raven pressed the stop button on the treadmill and rejoiced in the slow wind down, much to the machine's relief.

He snatched a faded gym towel and bottle of water from the holder on the machine and sucked in a breath of clean, cool air as he exited the sweaty gym.

His room was on the third floor of the mansion he shared with Aric and EJ since they’d settled here roughly a century ago. Right after EJ had received his first vision. Although they’d made modern improvements, an underground garage being the most recent, the exterior remained largely unchanged. Even with the countless rooms and loads of privacy, the three of them still preferred to congregate in the common areas.

Raven strode along the hardwood floor of the main hallway toward the front of the house, separated from a sunken living room by a few solid timber posts and railing. He paused and peered over at the oversized painting consuming the far wall. A scene of a world similar to this one all but destroyed, silver-winged angels carrying mortals away from the destruction etched out with heavy strokes.

Did the painting predict the future if Fate’s plan failed?

Maybe it represented the past, and this realm was a direct result of the Guardian’s triumph over evil.

If only the latter was true, he'd at least have some proof that good could prevail.

Strokes of golden light along the top of the canvas made his heart ache for the Heavens. God, he'd been in the mortal realm for so long, the memories of his home began to blur.

He clenched his jaw and his foul mood briskly returned thanks to that stupid painting.

Raven turned away and stomped up the first flight of stairs. Aric and EJ's banter traveled down the hall from the entertainment room—or bachelor pad, as EJ called it.

Bar was more accurate.

Raven leaned his shoulder against the arch of the open double doorway and crossed his arms. EJ leaned over the pool table, his sandy blond hair peeking out beneath a dark grey beanie, a tight expression of concentration on his face as he nudged the eight ball smoothly into the right corner pocket.

“Bloody hell, man. You beat me again,” Aric grumbled from across the table.

“You're gonna need more than your remaining centuries on this earth to win, Ric.” EJ flipped the balls from a pocket back onto the table.

“Man, you have an unnatural ability with a pool cue.”

“Among other things.”

“You know what? It just became my new mission in this realm to kick your ass at pool.”

EJ roared with laughter. “Bring it on.”

Aric shook his head and placed the final ball in the rack at the end of the table and lined it up for another game.

Those two had the same brotherly banter since the day they all found themselves permanently kicked out of the Heavens.

EJ stood slightly shorter than Aric, but possessed the same sculpted warrior’s build they all did. The main difference was EJ could pass for late twenties, a good five or so years younger than Aric and himself could get away with.

And yes, EJ had a natural gift for pool since the game’s creation.

Both males glanced his way.

“Hey, man.” Aric nodded at Raven, chalking the tip of his cue. “You work off some steam?”

“Tried.” Raven threw his iPod to EJ, who caught it in his palm. “What the fuck did you do to my music? Swap it out for every shitty remix you could find?”

EJ raised a brow. “So shitty you listened to it for over an hour?”

Damn it, good point.

Raven bit the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling. “Regardless, it still sucks.”

EJ threw his head back and laughed. “All in good time, Rave. Eventually, you'll submit to the dark side.”

The smile dropped from Raven’s face and his heart sank; EJ’s comment hit way too close to home.

“I'm off to shower and hopefully, scrub those torturous sounds from my skull. Let's meet in the study after and we'll go over our plans for tonight.”

“You got it, man.”

“Roger that, Rave. And don't forget, we can hear you singing.”

Raven flipped EJ the finger as he turned and headed up the last flight of stairs to his room.

He had the whole third level to himself; a master suite, an oversized en suite bathroom and a private study. At the time of their arrival—banishment—on Earth, all those centuries ago, the two had declared Raven their leader. He was, after all, the one who created their mission, and Aric had convinced him the leader should have their own quarters.

Even now, he didn't give a shit about his space, the rooms on the second floor were just as luxurious.

Swinging open the double doors, Raven crossed the lush carpet to the bathroom on the far side and wasted no time showering—without singing.

Stepping outside the shower recess, the image of a worn-out version of himself confronted him in the mirror above the basin.

His shoulders sagged.

Even after his past few mornings under the sun’s rays and a full seven hours sleep—loads more than Guardians needed—his skin was dull with decent size bags—no, suitcases—under his eyes. Raven pinched his cheeks, hoping for the skin to react, awaken and brighten somehow. It didn't.

As he turned toward the door, he glimpsed the small patch of crimson feathers on the inside of his right wing, standing out like splatters of blood against the black.

Concealing them was becoming harder. Each day he woke, hoping they’d turned back to black, that there’d been some kind of sick mistake.

But they didn’t change. There was no mistake.

He’d sensed the moment his faith in Fate began to slip away at the exact moment his first crimson feather appeared.

Bet Fate’s enjoying this twist, he thought bitterly.

Unless this was her twisted plan all along.

Raven threw his towel at his reflection and tucked his wings back inside the thin slits in his flesh as he stomped to the walk-in closet. He grabbed a pair of faded black jeans and navy tee, and shoved them on. He stormed out of his room, heading to the main study, on the ground floor.

The war room.

Upon entering, Raven rounded the oversized mahogany board table in the center of the room, striding toward the rear and grabbing a bottle of water from the bar fridge.

Maybe a little early for bourbon.

He took a gulp before sinking his ass into the soft leather seat at the head of the table. On his right, EJ fired up two laptops and Raven mentally rolled his eyes at Aric, sitting to his left, as he not-so-discreetly slid a coaster under Raven’s bottle of water.

“So, where’re we at?” Raven prompted.

Second thought, maybe it wasn’t too early for a bourbon.

Aric leaned in, his elbows on the table, interlacing his fingers under his chin. “Seems you’re still the only one with a Chosen assignment on your plate.”

EJ lowered the screen on the laptop in front of him. “I wonder why, after all these centuries in this realm, Fate suddenly decided to assign one to you. I mean I just presumed she’d taken that role away too, you know, after she threw us out. Even though she said we’d remain Guardians.”

Raven shrugged. “Dunno. I couldn’t even begin to understand the decisions she makes.”

“Maybe she’s finally gotten over her little tiff and letting us back in the circle of trust.” Aric grinned.

Raven laughed. “I seriously doubt that.”

Leaning back in his chair, he took another sip of water before placing it back on the coaster. Wouldn't want Aric losing his shit over condensation rings on the table.

He turned to EJ. “How’s the Fallen tracking coming together?”

“I reckon by the end of the week I’ll have all the data from those oversized, ancient maps transferred onto the laptop.”

“Still don’t get what’s wrong with using the maps. At least they don’t need power…or a degree to operate,” he grumbled.

EJ smirked but, apparently, had the sense not to reply.

Aric swiveled his chair to face Raven. “Speaking of Chosen, how are things going with Tayla?”

EJ leaned back in his chair. “Damn, Rave, if only all Chosen were as pretty as her, it would sure make protecting them a helluva lot more…”

Raven slammed his palms on the table. “She's not some piece of meat put on Earth for your entertainment, EJ.”

EJ held his palms up in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

Raven dropped his head in his hands. “Fuck.”

Aric leaned over and squeezed his arm. “You have some serious rage rolling off you, man. What’s going on?”

Raven lifted his head. “Nothing.”

By the frowns on both their faces, he knew they didn’t buy his bullshit and the subject wasn’t case closed.

Raven cleared his throat. “Tayla’s fine. She’s settled in and seems to be following along her path. Whatever that is. God, I’d forgotten how frustrating it was not knowing where a Chosen’s path led.”

EJ nodded. “Or how their path would tip the scales back in Fate’s favor.”

“Yeah, that, too,” Raven scoffed. “Anyway, things have been quiet, but I'll head out tonight and do the rounds, just to be sure.”

It had been almost a week since he'd seen her, and his body was so tense he could snap someone's head off.

Duh, he just did that, didn't he?

After centuries of no Chosen to protect, he wasn’t satisfied with relying on the spiritual tether they shared. He had to see her with his own eyes.

Aric pushed away from the table to stand behind his chair, leaning his forearms on the backrest. “Any sign of your brother lately?”

Raven shook his head. “Haven't seen or heard from him for almost a month now. But as we know, that doesn’t mean he isn’t lurking in the shadows.”

It would be so much easier if that connection was still operational.

The three Guardians finalized their plans for the evening and wrapped up the meeting. Tonight, Raven planned to swing past Tayla's cabin before catching up with EJ and Aric in town to patrol for Fallen. They’d rendezvous back at the mansion prior to dawn, for check-in and a nightcap. Or three.

Standard routine.

Leaving the study, Raven trailed behind Aric and EJ as they headed to the dining room, chatting away to each other. Although only a step or two behind, he didn’t take in any of the conversation. As though his body went through the motions, but his soul was MIA.

He sensed distance between the three of them.

No, disconnect.

The worse the situation got, the sooner he’d have to come clean and tell them. He wasn’t naïve enough to think they didn’t suspect something wasn’t right, but he didn’t know how the hell to raise the subject. Hey man, just so you know, I have some crimson feathers…

Yeah, he could imagine how well that conversation would end.

Entering the dining room, Raven spotted Ellen placing steaming hot food in the center of the enormously long dining table.

Aric and EJ sat in their usual spots and dove straight in.

Ellen wasn't an angel like Raven and the other males—not that he referred to himself as an angel. She was mortal. Well, used to be a mortal. He smiled, remembering the moment he’d swung open the front door to find her standing patiently on the porch, her hazel eyes lit with joy, silvery grey hair fresh out of curlers and tied in a loose bun, and a warm caring smile on her face. She'd politely introduced herself, stating she'd been sent to ensure they took care of themselves. In the absence of contact with the Heavens, he’d taken her word for it and invited her in.

Years later, she mentioned one night over a few too many ports, Fate had offered her the task of taking care of a brotherhood of immortal warriors, in exchange for immortality in the mortal realm. She’d agreed without hesitation. He’d thought the idea was ridiculous—why the hell would a brotherhood of immortal warriors need taken care of? But as it turned out, they kinda did.

Although Ellen employed a handful of mortals to help, she prided herself on cooking their meals. Tonight, she’d prepared a smorgasbord, a combination of succulent grilled meats, steamed fresh vegetables and sweet-smelling pastry filled the air.

But all his stomach did was churn.

Pouring bourbon from the crystal decanter, Raven butted against the side table, content to observe Aric and EJ fill their plates with mashed potatoes, baby carrots and homemade chicken pie, while praising Ellen.

Ellen appeared beside him and glanced at his liquid dinner. “You're not eating again?”

Raven sighed. “I just don't have an appetite.”

She turned, fiddling with the glasses on the side table. “I dropped in to see Tayla the other day. She’s doing well. I told her about this yoga class in town and I think she's going to try it tonight.”

Raven twisted toward her. “Thanks, Ellen.”

Ellen possessed a grace and beauty that made her easy to warm to, which was exactly why he'd accepted her help to settle Tayla into her cabin a couple of months ago. He couldn’t exactly do it himself, as revealing himself to a Chosen was forbidden, and no way would he trust a mortal to give Tayla the care and attention she deserved.

Raven had hung back in the shadows. As always.

Ellen smiled, straightening her blouse and adjusting her long, beaded necklace. “I'll put a plate together for you and leave it in the fridge for later.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

Ellen turned, briefly chatting with Aric and EJ on her way back to the kitchen.

Raven peered back at his brothers, filling their plates for the third time, the two bodies seeming out of place at the large table. Would more Guardians arrive eventually, or would it be the three of them until they somehow completed their impossible mission? His chest ached at the thought of a house full of Guardians, a family away from home, all living under the same roof. Where everyone crammed around the dining table, several different conversations happening at once, chatting and passing food to one another, laughter echoing off the walls.

Where meal times were chaotic but filled with countless memorable moments.

Moments he hadn’t realized he longed for, until now.

Didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t as if he’d be around to enjoy them.