Kalindra (GateKeepers) Page 3

  A shadow of a grin bowed her lips. “Who exactly do you think we’re talking about?”

  He stared. Confusion filled his mind. Just how many other monsters lived here? So many that Kali didn’t know the harpy?

  “The harpy. The one who protects the gate. Who are you talking about?”

  * * * *

  A hint of a chuckle slipped past Kalindra’s lips. Did the man seriously not recognize her? She knew she looked different when harpy, but not that different.

  As least, she’d always been able to recognize her sisters no matter what shape they were in. Then again, her other senses helped with that, she supposed. Not to mention, she rarely saw any of them in their human form. They stayed harpy unless visiting Earth. And the last time she could remember that happening was in the early 1800’s.

  Moot point. There was no denying the truth in front of her. This man didn’t recognize her as the gatekeeper. Thought she was servant to…herself.

  “Right,” she said. “The harpy. You think her a monster, then?”

  Teasing him was cruel. She really should reveal who she was. But she hadn’t been this entertained in ages. People never told her what they really thought of her, too afraid of what she could do. Here was her chance to learn the truth. She glanced over her shoulder, and saw a teasing come on look on his face.

  “You don’t?” he asked when she met his gaze.

  “Why do you see her as one?” she asked.

  She wouldn’t even know where to begin to answer that question, were it asked of her. Did she see herself as a monster? Sometimes. But she lived with the belief that she worked for the greater good. Her cause was worthy. Only suited to one such as her. Maybe one had to be a bit of a monster to guard the gate. To do what needed to be done.

  “She brutally killed two people–”

  “Vampires,” Kalindra cut in. A small distinction maybe, but an important one. At least to her. To her it was everything.

  “Fine, vampires. Wait, how did you know that?” He shook his head. “Never mind. The point is, she did it without a hint of remorse.”

  “You think they deserved remorse after what they did to those humans? What they did to you?”

  “I’m not denying they were monsters. But that doesn’t make her any less of one.”

  It took a moment to gather her thoughts. There was logic in his words. Yet, even though she considered herself a monster, she still didn’t understand why Cameron did. More than that, it bothered her that he thought so badly of her.

  “But what makes her a monster?” she asked eventually.

  “She’s a harpy.”

  He said nothing else. As if her mere existence made her a monster. But that wasn’t right. Being a harpy didn’t define her. Her actions did. They made her a monster. Not her actions today, but in centuries of days like today. All the things he knew nothing about.

  She turned to him then, leaning back on the counter and staring straight at him. Appraisal, paired with obvious attraction, shone clearly from his eyes.

  “Do you think all beings from Outremer monsters, then?” She raised one eyebrow in challenge.

  He wanted her. That much was obvious. He didn’t know she and the harpy were one and the same. Also obvious. She doubted he would call her a monster in this form, wanting her as he did. Not until he learned the truth.

  With a small smile, she wondered how much deeper he would shove that foot into his mouth before he figured out who she was. Or until she revealed herself. Understanding filled his eyes, followed by caution.

  “I can’t imagine anyone seeing you as anything but the beauty you are.”

  The charming smile he threw her rattled her brains. For a moment, she forgot the game and basked in the feminine glow building inside her. It had been so long since anyone had looked at her as a woman. Usually, others just looked at her as something to be feared.

  Kalindra shook off her mental haze. Cameron had one hell of a smile. That thing was lethal. All cleaned up, there was no denying his attractiveness. His hair had the slightest curl to it, which made her hands itch to run through it. And it was filled with a mesmerizing array of highlights and lowlights. Brown was too simple a description. His jaw should have been too pronounced. Too harsh. But instead it gave him a tough countenance that appealed to the warrior inside her. As did his wide shoulders. Shoulders built to carry a heavy load.

  But his eyes captured her attention. A piercing shade of emerald green. She could get lost in his eyes.

  “You find me beautiful?” In this form, she added in her head. He thought her other half a monster.

  “Come on. You must know you’re beautiful.”

  One side of his mouth crooked up, distracting her. She couldn’t deny the pleasure such words brought her, even as she realized how shallow such sentiments were. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder. Cameron was only attracted to half of the whole picture.

  “So, because I’m beautiful, I get spared the title of monster, but if I looked like, say, the harpy, I would be one? That hardly seems fair.”

  His smile slipped, and she felt the loss. She missed that smile. But the point needed to be made.

  “I didn’t mean to offend,” he said after a moment.

  “You didn’t,” she assured him with a laugh. The whole conversation had been refreshing.

  What did that say about her? Not many creatures would take such pleasure out of discussing why they might or might not be a monster. Maybe she really had been spending too much time by herself.

  “I’m entertained, not offended,” she elaborated.

  Suspicion entered his narrowed eyes. His lips flattened into a thin line. “Who are you?”

  “Kali.”

  “What are you really doing here, Kali?”

  “It’s my duty.”

  “Right. To serve the harpy.”

  Kalindra bit the inside of her cheek as the smile she tried to hold back shook the corners of her mouth. She glanced at the ceiling to hold back the chuckles.

  “I don’t believe I said I serve the harpy,” she said after a moment.

  She dared a glance at him when he didn’t reply. His whole body had tightened as his focus honed in on her. Such intensity. She sucked in a breath in appreciation. No denying the man was attractive. More so when he glowered at her.

  “Yes. You did.”

  “No, I said I serve her. I never mentioned the harpy. That was all you.”

  It was mean to tease him. But so much fun!

  “Who else is here?” he demanded.

  She spread her arms out. “Just us.”

  “Then who…” He broke off, his eyes narrowing on her. “What do you mean, just us?”

  Kalindra merely smiled at him. Answer enough.

  “The harpy?”

  She raised her eyebrows in answer.

  She had to admit, it clicked sooner than she’d have thought. Most others, humans at least, tended to reason away things they didn’t understand. But she saw comprehension before his eyes tracked over her form in a new evaluation, the heat reflected in their depths born of anger instead of attraction.

  “You said your name was Kali,” he accused.

  “Even monsters need names. If you must know, Kali is short for Kalindra, the name my mother gave me. And before you ask, yes, monsters have mothers, too.”

  Now, he would try and backtrack. Tell her that of course he didn’t think her a monster. Try to explain his earlier words. Try to dislodge that foot shoved up his mouth.

  “Who is this she you serve?”

  Her smile widened. This human kept surprising her. Never quite what she expected. Smart and quick on the uptake. But even handcuffed and beaten, he’d never begged.

  When she thought of humans, words like weak, gullible, and simpering came to mind. But Cameron… None of those words fit him. Her eyes roamed over his form, her lips twitching at what she found. Maybe she had the wrong impression of humans. Or maybe Cameron was an exceptional one. Just the fact that he
was going head to head with her made her give him a measure of respect.

  “The gateway. The one you and your friends crossed through. Somehow…” Her smile slipped a little bit. That mystery still bugged her. How had they gotten past the defenses? And why had she not been summoned the moment they crossed?

  No matter. He would explain it to her, and she’d make sure it never happened again.

  “You call the gate a she? You said it was a friend.” More accusations.

  Put that way, it sounded sad and pathetic. How could she explain the gate to someone who’d never felt anything like the connection between gatekeeper and portal? They were linked in ways only her three fellow guardians could ever understand.

  Yes, the gateway was sentient, in a way. It didn’t speak to her, per se, but she felt its emotions. Felt them deep in the pit of her stomach, and knew they were real.

  Friend might have been too strong a word, but in a way it was more truthful than any other description she could think of. For so long, the portal was all she had. All she would ever have. They were connected in a way no human could understand.

  “I call it a she, though I suppose it doesn’t really have a gender. But it isn’t just an empty portal, either. If you could feel it like I could, you’d understand. It would be foolish not to think of her as sentient.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Not at all. She has a mind. Choices. She chose me to serve her. To be her companion in this world. Keep her safe.” Kalindra turned contemplative, as she often did when pondering her role in the world. “For so long, we’ve been together. Us against the world. I will be her companion until the very moment I die. And when I do, she will choose another, and the two of them will share the bond.”

  * * * *

  Anger drained away as quickly as it had come. How could he stay upset when he saw the desolation on her face? Or heard the bleakness in her voice? He doubted she even knew it was so evident.

  Her loneliness infused every word she spoke. It called to him on a primal level. Demanded he help. Even after learning who, and what, she was, he still felt compelled to erase the sadness in her eyes.

  Ridiculous. She didn’t need his sympathy. Certainly not his protection. He was her prisoner, for heaven’s sake. He should be feeling bad for himself, not her.

  But her words wouldn’t get out of his head. I will be her companion until the very moment I die. And when I do, she will choose another.

  No one should feel so replaceable. Especially not someone who dedicated her life to keeping the world safe. Someone who spent her life protecting his worthless behind while he’d been doing what he could to undermine her. Using the gift he’d been given to sneak others into Outremer in a get-rich-quick scheme that had almost cost him his life. One that had cost others theirs.

  Shame filled him. He’d called her a monster. To her face. And she’d been…entertained? But who was more monster? Her or him? After all, if not for him, those men he’d brought through the gateway tonight would still be alive. Still be safe in their beds, secure in the certainty that monsters were nothing more than children’s stories.

  He was a joke of a keeper. For the first time, he wished his grandfather had chosen someone else. Someone worthy of protecting the shard. But who? His grandfather had raised him after his parents’ death. It had just been the two of them for as long as he could remember. There was no one else.

  His appetite deserted him. Cameron put down the knife, and cleared his throat. Piercing gray eyes stared at him as he looked up. The sadness in their depths had been replaced by curiosity. He froze. It seemed as if she could see directly into his soul. He’d heard of creatures that could. Valkyries could supposedly see auras surrounding beings that told of the purity of the soul. Never before had he wondered what his soul looked like, but he suddenly wished he knew. Was his beyond redemption?

  “What?” he asked when the silence became too much.

  “You feel bad. About what?”

  Surprise had Cameron clenching his jaw. Maybe she couldn’t see his soul, but what other powers did she have?

  “You can see my emotions?”

  Damn her, she laughed. At him. It wasn’t as if he knew anything about her. Okay, so he knew more than most humans. That didn’t make him an expert.

  He inhaled, ready to rail at her, especially since she hadn’t stopped laughing. But then he stopped. The smile she threw his way drew him in until he felt included in the laughter. She wasn’t laughing at him. Well, okay, she was. But she was laughing at his ignorance, not his stupidity. And that knowledge alone allowed him to loosen up and smile in the face of her amusement.

  “I take it that’s a no then?”

  “Oh goodness, you are refreshing. No, I cannot read your emotions, unless you count pure observation. Your eyes were full of guilt.” Her laughter stopped and the smile dropped from her face. “What makes you guilty, Cameron?”

  His own smile fell away. Should he tell her about the shard? He could give it to her. Who better to protect it than one of the legendary gatekeepers?

  If he told her about it, she’d demand he hand it over. No doubt about it. But his grandfather’s dying words drifted back to him.

  You know the joy of this world. You understand why it must be protected from the likes of them. Trust no one of their world. And when you can no longer protect it, find a human worthy of the job.

  Could he trust her? Surely a gatekeeper was different than the average creature from Outremer. But what if she died? Could the shard fall into enemy hands then? If she failed her duty, would it matter? Their world would be exposed. How long until the next gatekeeper took her place?

  No, he couldn’t hand over the shard. Not yet. Right now, the shard was his to protect. His responsibility. He had an obligation to weigh the decision whether or not to hand it over. To decide if it was in the best interest of the shard. And if it was, he’d do what must be done for the sake of all mankind.

  First, he needed answers. Needed to be sure that it would be the right thing. Those answers would take time and careful observation.

  Guess that meant for the time being, he wasn’t going anywhere. Whether or not she tried to keep him here, he was sticking around.

  Chapter 3

  The smell of tomato and basil, mixed with the unmistakable scent of frying beef, had Cameron’s mouth watering. Hard to believe he’d been here almost a week already.

  At first, he worried he’d be bored, or that the harpy would be less than friendly. But he quickly discovered nothing about her or this place was what it seemed.

  Any number of things needed to be done. On the outside, the castle seemed like nothing more than vine-covered ruins, surrounded by an overgrown hedged fence, a trick to keep outsiders away. Inside, it was cheery and warm. Which didn’t mean there wasn’t work to be done. He was surprised it wasn’t more like the ruins on the outside, considering all the repairs needed.

  After the first few days, when she’d pushed him with questions he’d pretended not to know the answers to, he and Kali had become friendly. More than friendly. He actually liked her. Trust her? Maybe not. He’d learned enough to know her first priority was and always would be the gate. She’d kill him without a second thought, if he stood in the way of her duty. Not that he had any intention of doing so.

  Still, his first impression had been completely off. She wasn’t just some mindless killing machine. Far from the monster he’d accused her of being.

  Kali had a dry wit that never failed to make him smile. She was dedicated to her duty. More often than not, when he’d go searching for her, he’d find her training. A different weapon every day.

  Watching her with them fascinated him. Sometimes she’d be in her harpy form, learning to wield different instruments with her claws. But more often than not, he’d catch her training as human. “Need to be ready for anything,” she’d told him on one such occasion.

  The sight was truly something to behold, and whenever he came upon it, he f
ound himself glued to the floor, riveted as he watch her strike at the air and retreat. She seemed to be an expert at whatever weapon she picked up, each becoming an extension of her body as if made to be there.

  The image of her twirling a scythe as she’d trained earlier was still fresh in his mind–really, who fought with a scythe?–as he turned the corner into the kitchen.

  There she was, leaning over a pot on the stove while oil popped in the frying pan next to it. Already some meatballs were cooling on a paper towel.

  But even his growling stomach held no match to the sight of her pert behind pressing against the material of her pants as she bent over. God, the woman had a magnificent ass. All that training had certainly paid off.

  “Ouch.” Her hand flew up as she jumped away from the stove.

  He rushed over, grabbing the hand she’d pulled to her chest.

  “What happened?” He examined her arm.

  She tried to pull it away from him, but he wasn’t having any of that. She could get away if she really wanted to. Could strike him down where he stood before he even had a chance to move. But the past week had made him more comfortable around her. He knew she wouldn’t hurt him.

  He looked down, searching for a burn, or whatever caused her cry. Jesus, the woman’s arm was covered in scars. He ran his thumb over a particularly nasty one on the back of her wrist. Reminders of all she’d done for humankind.

  “It’s nothing. Just a stray bit of oil from the pan.”

  He saw it then, the slightly reddened mark on her thumb.

  She tried to pull out of his grasp. “Cameron, you’re being silly.”

  He ignored her, pulling her over to the sink and turning on the cold water.

  “This will make it feel better.”

  “It feels fine.”

  Again, he ignored her. If she wouldn’t take care of herself, he’d have to do it for her. How many of these scars were from cooking, and how many from fighting? She protected the world, but who protected her? She needed to be more careful.

  “The meatballs will burn,” she said with an edge of exasperation.