Custodian (Elemental Paladins Book 5) Page 2

  She scrunched up her nose, looking rather adorable, “No. Thank you.” She cleared her throat, making eye contact, “It sounded as if you were having a crisis of faith,” she then prompted.

  “A crisis of faith?” He scoffed, “I guess you could call it that. Empty figureheads tend to do that to me.”

  Red eyebrows arched perfectly over wide, blue-grey eyes, “I assume you are referring to the Goddess you spoke of. You are disappointed in her.”

  “‘The Goddess,’“ he quoted. “I thought you would have me believe that was you.”

  “And I thought you would have me believe it isn’t. Or rather, that you do not want it to be,” came her prompt reply.

  He eyed her for a moment, taking in her sincere yet stoic countenance. The woman was clearly not mentally sound. But if she was not going to offer her body as solace as he had originally assumed, then perhaps she could act as a surrogate for his true anger and he could still gain some sort of catharsis from the encounter.

  “Alright. Goddess ...” he tipped his head in deference in her direction, earning a nod in return.

  “Where would you like to start?” she demurred.

  “With the senseless slaughter of your children,” he ground out.

  The fickle woman was already shaking her head, red hair somehow managing to shimmer even in the dull, artificial light of the dingy tavern. “Not my children; you wardens are my warriors, my guardians. Not my children.”

  Mordecai felt his hand freeze midway to his mouth, the jar of clear liquid shaking a little. Wardens? How did she know that word? He thought back to his earlier ravings. He had been rather vocal, it was true, and he couldn’t quite recall if they had included him naming his brethren so overtly. But given he was a drunk Scotsman in a German-speaking tavern, he hadn’t exactly been worried about being overheard. He must have used the term unthinkingly. Deciding to fully embrace the moment as the strange woman across from him apparently was, he replied;

  “Semantics,” he waved a hand.

  “Semantics? No. Not at all. Big difference, as a matter of fact. You were tasked with the burden of maintaining the balance between the domains of the world. I created your ancestors, it is true. But I did not birth them. Not like my Custodians.”

  Mordecai had to hand it to her – she sure knew her stuff. She had obviously been observing them for some time to overhear so much of their society. He was going to have to talk to his Order about the potential danger of a woman with her knowledge. But for now, he couldn’t deny he was enjoying the encounter.

  “Your precious custodians of nature who have not been seen for a couple of years now. I thought they were always supposed to walk the earth?”

  Her eyes darkened and for a moment, he swore he saw them swirl like a barely-contained tornado, before she spoke; “Circumstances change.”

  Mordecai snorted, feeling his anger bloom rich and dark once more, “Convenient,” he spat.

  Her back stiffened, shoulders straightening in a snap, before she sighed, the sound escaping her lips, regretfully. “I feel your pain, my warrior,” she murmured, softly. “I feel every pain – everywhere, and all of the time. How could I not? I am not cold or careless or selfish as you would so conveniently believe. I simply cannot control everything, everywhere, all of the time. I am all-knowing but not all-controlling.”

  Mordecai shook his head, “You see, I find that hard to believe. How can the Mother of all creation not be in control of her creations?”

  “Dana.”

  “What?” Mordecai was surprised enough by the abrupt change in topic that he momentarily lost his anger.

  The stunning woman smiled at him, humour evident in her clear eyes, “My name is Dana. If we are going to continue our discussion, I’d like you to call me Dana.”

  Mordecai narrowed his eyes, “I thought you were a Goddess?”

  She smirked, “Even Goddesses have names.” Dana leant back in her chair, appearing to be completely at ease. “As for your prior inquiry, there is one small thing I didn’t plan on when I created Nature and her protectors; evolution.” She laughed, the sound very self-deprecating yet still one of the most perfect sounds he had ever heard. “Ever changing and never ceasing transformation. Such a simple thing with the power for so much greatness. And yet, also so much cruelty. Watching nature morph from the smallest and simplest of organisms into the most intricate of creatures … it was like a dream. But, one of the first lessons I ever learned was that balance is a harsh mediator. The world demanded balance for such beauty and grace – pain, trials … sickness.”

  He considered her words for a moment before realising what she was alluding to, “The chades.”

  “Yes. The chades,” her voice was almost a sigh. “I didn’t plan on my guardians turning against their elements, and yet, it happened. The balance to evolution? Devolution.”

  Mordecai barely even registered how drawn into the conversation he was. How he had all but stopped humouring the woman in front of him and was instead now conversing with her as if she truly was Mother Nature. “And the wardens who keep devolving? You’re telling me you can’t stop them?”

  Dana shook her head, “Believe it or not; I truly cannot. Other than wiping them from existence, that is,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

  “That sounds like a damn good plan to me,” his voice was gruff and Dana was already shaking her head once again.

  “No. Balance. The scales must be balanced at all times,” she lectured.

  Mordecai slammed his fist down onto the table, causing the jar to jump but not the woman, “Fuck the scales! Hundreds of wardens and paladins died today. Hundreds! What does that do to your precious balance?!” He felt the sick anger rising up within him once again and felt his paladins stir. He cast a stern look in their direction which had them resuming their seats but the frown on their faces told him they were paying close attention to the ongoing scene.

  “Nature’s equilibrium has been disrupted, it is true. But not by me and therefore, I cannot be the one who balances it.” Her response was mild, as was her countenance, as if his palpable anger had no effect on her at all. She tilted her head, sending the red mass shimmering once more, as she appeared to think. After a moment, a small frown creased her forehead before she shook her head;

  “No. The chades cannot be destroyed. Instead, they must be healed. They are a blight on our people – an infection. Infections must be cured, not eradicated.”

  “Fine,” Mordecai gritted his teeth. “Cure them then.”

  Dana frowned at him, impatience finally showing, “I cannot. I create and I destroy. This is my purpose. This is my balance. I created you to maintain nature. Evolution has created a counterbalance to that.”

  “So create something to fix it then!” Mordecai shouted, hands slashing angrily through the air.

  “I ...” Dana shouted right back, before abruptly cutting herself off. She blinked those intriguing eyes of hers, head tilting to the side. “What did you just say?”

  Mordecai settled back against his chair, “You said you are a creator? Well, create something new. Something that can treat this new blight stalking the earth.”

  “Hmm, that actually isn’t a bad idea,” Dana said, sounding interested and surprised at the same time.

  “Yeah, well. I’m full of good ideas – just ask me,” he gave a rude snort.

  The beautiful woman was eyeing him quite differently now and he saw calculation in her gaze as well as lust if he wasn’t mistaken. He was more than a little surprised when she reached out, grabbed his long-forgotten drink and tossed it back in one healthy swallow. Dana cringed but didn’t cough or gag as he suspected she would have.

  “The impurities in that concoction …” she shook her head, blue-grey eyes suddenly locked on his; “What if I said you could help me create such a cure, right here, right now? What would you say?”

  Mordecai nodded his head, vigorously, “I’d say, aye!”

  “I take it that would be anot
her way to say yes?”

  He snorted, “Yeah, honey. That means ‘yes’.”

  She pursed her lips, “But what if the cure required a sacrifice? The biggest possible sacrifice that existed?”

  “Like my life?” he guessed, feeling his paladins tense over the possible threat. But Mordecai wasn’t worried. He was back to believing the redheaded beauty was intensely deranged and although he was concerned for her mental welfare, he held no such fears for his physical person.

  “Not your life, no.” She responded, “The life of another – made with the sole purpose for restoring balance to the elements.”

  He felt his eyes widen in surprise, “The life of another?”

  Dana nodded, her own eyes intense, “Someone you have never met. May never meet.”

  Mordecai thought about that for a moment. Would he be willing to sacrifice the life of a total stranger? He would have liked to have said no. That such a decision was not his to make. But the echo of death and grief hollowing out his mind and body even as he conversed with the very attractive crazy female in the run-down tavern on the banks of the Danube, was enough to have him nodding his head. Besides, none of it was real. He was half drunk, with the other half of him nothing but an exposed nerve ending. And the woman in front of him needed the facilities of a mental institution more than she needed the air she breathed. So he opened his mouth and answered;

  “Yes. I would sacrifice anything to stop this happening again. Even the life of another.”

  The eyes in front of him seemed to swirl like a hidden galaxy for a second before subsiding dully as Dana spoke, “So be it.”

  ***

  It wasn’t until the following morning when he woke up to a shining, naked Goddess in his bed that he realised he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Dana had looked at him, eyes coloured vortexes of pure power and he had known; she was real. He had sat in a hell-hole of a bar, drinking illegal moonshine from an old jam jar and cursed out Mother Nature right to her face. He had then proceeded to make very drunk but still very passionate love to the Creator all night long. But it wasn’t until she stood, naked and shimmering with tears in her eyes and a gentle hand over her womb, that he fully recognised the true ramifications of his actions. The gift, the cure, the sacrifice she had warned him of? It was to be his child – their child. The look of horror and shared sadness in Dana’s eyes did nothing to alleviate his growing terror. Knowing that a goddess also feared what was to come – what they had set in motion – had made him violently ill all over the thin mattress. When he had managed to pull himself together, Dana had disappeared, and he had known he had just altered the course of the world. But in what direction, he could not predict.

  ONE

  Present Day

  “Okay, so what’s the plan?” Aiden asked, eyeing his liege who had been sitting as still as a statue for the past fifteen minutes. Given the way Mordecai had driven like a manic rally driver to get to the historical house perched on the cliff, Aiden had figured he and his fellow paladins would have been wrestling their liege to the ground in order to talk some sense into him. But Mordecai had simply stopped in front of the house Garrett was staying in and proceeded to ... glare. Nothing but glare. The frigid silence and unnatural stillness from his liege scared him far more than his temper did. Mordecai wasn’t really a cold man as most in their society thought. Aiden knew he looked indomitable with his fair complexion, ink-black hair, large six-foot-five frame, and unwavering cool green eyes. But at his core, he was a man filled with warmth and humour and a steadfast sense of duty and loyalty.

  Aiden was a life paladin along with Tobias, whilst Madigan and Bastien were both death paladins. They had been bound to Mordecai since graduating the Paladin Trials when they had been little more than thirty years old. Mordecai had been even younger, at barely twenty. Sixteen hundred years sharing each other’s brainwaves had made them all something closer and stronger than even family. But then, that’s what a bond between a paladin and a warden was supposed to be. At least, it used to be when their population had the numbers to allow natural bonds to take place, and relationships were permitted for more than just procreation or duty.

  The bond forged between the five of them had certainly been a natural one. Aiden had felt the instant connection to the Scottish Warden of Death the moment he laid eyes on him. It had been the same with his fellow knights. When Aiden had arrived at his very first training centre, he’d been a cocky little shit. Although he hadn’t been born a warden, he had been gifted with the element of life. The highest-ranking domain there was for a paladin. When you threw in the fact that he was also born a potentate, well, he was the first to admit he had tickets on himself. He had not been too impressed to learn he would be rooming with five other young men in the most rudimentary of accommodations; nothing but a piece of material over some sticks as shelter and makeshift pallets on the unforgiving ground. As such, he had blustered, ranted and raved, demanding the best sleeping plot and the best blankets.

  He hadn’t been all that big at the time, and his muscles were non-existent, unlike – and unfortunately for him – most of the other trainee paladins he was sharing space with. A few of them took exception to his piss-poor attitude and because he didn’t have his older brother with him to help fight his battles like he usually did, he had soon found himself flat on his back. But, instead of letting the other two paladins rightfully kick his butt, Tobias, Madigan, and Bastien had stepped in and saved it. They had been inseparable ever since.

  “Aid?”

  The softly spoken voice in his head returned him to the present and he turned to see Madigan watching him with a raised brow. Right; liege quite possibly having a silent aneurysm right this moment. Time to focus.

  “Mordecai?” Aiden questioned for a second time.

  Nothing. Nada. Zippo.

  Looked like Aiden was going to have to poke the bear to get an honest reaction out of him, “My Lord ... Sir?”

  Mordecai finally threw him a disgusted look, “Cut that shit out. You know I hate it when you call me that.”

  Aiden did know. They all knew. For all his apparent primp and pomp, Mordecai was nothing of the sort. He despised the airs he felt he was forced to wear in public and it had been many years since he had demanded they call him Sir or Lord or any other such titles of dignitary.

  “What’s the plan?” Aiden asked.

  “The plan? I plan to go in there and rip my best friend’s spine from his body before I beat him to death with it,” Mordecai growled out.

  Madigan winced, Bastien rolled his eyes, and Tobias grinned a little evilly. They all knew their liege was more than capable of doing what he just said. And in his current mood? It was a genuine possibility. As much as Aiden wouldn’t mind seeing Garrett’s spine on the outside of his body, as Captain, he felt the need to at least try to be the voice of reason. Although, that role was routinely more Madigan’s thing than his own. Even as he had the thought, Tobias spoke first;

  “Well, as fun as that sounds, how about you try something a little less murdery first, huh?” Tobias asked.

  “Murdery?” Aiden mouthed silently to his friend. Tobias merely shrugged.

  “I will be murdering him,” Mordecai growled. “He knew. That bastard knew! He knew who Max was – knew what she was.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Madigan hedged.

  The filthy look their liege threw his fellow knight would be enough to flay a lesser man but Mad simply stared placidly back, saying; “Just because you told him about Dana all those years ago and you have now learned that Emmanuel may still be alive, doesn’t prove anything.”

  Mordecai slammed his clenched fist against the steering wheel, “Like fuck it doesn’t! It makes so much sense. His son and my daughter? How fuckin’ poetic is that? That bitch sure does have a sick sense of humour.”

  None of them needed to be told who the bitch was. At first, Aiden and the others had believed what Mordecai had; that the stunning creature in the s
hithole of a tavern in the middle of Germany was certifiable. Even after they had forced their way into Mordecai’s room the following morning after feeling the bone-deep shock and horror emanating through their liege, they had not believed Mordecai when he assured them Dana had been the real deal. Aiden had just assumed Mordecai’s fragile psyche had finally collapsed under the immense weight of so much death and destruction. He would never forget the raw pain that had hit them with enough force to buckle their knees when the Great Massacre had started. But even that didn’t compare to the desolation their liege had been carrying around since that night. One quick mental jolt to their synapses through the Order link, showing them Dana in all her Goddess glory, had made them all believers. And thus, the four of them had also been burdened with the loss and guilt and rage over Mordecai’s missing child.

  Sharp inhales and a prickling along his scalp returned his focus to the present. “Mordecai,” Aiden’s voice held a warning this time. “Dial it back a notch, yeah?” He fought the urge to somehow put up a shield from the frigid tendrils of energy leaking from his dearest friend. Not that it would do any good. Mordecai’s powers could pass through anything, anywhere.

  Aiden saw Mordecai grit his teeth and felt him attempting to rein in his dark energy. He knew his liege would never intentionally hurt any of them. Unfortunately, the man was extremely powerful and burdened with a very dark element. Sometimes he couldn’t help himself. But that’s where he and his fellow knights came in. Momentarily, Bastien and Madigan placed comforting hands on each of Mordecai’s shoulders and Aiden saw him take a deep breath, shoulders relaxing just enough for him to know they were getting through to him.

  “What do you suggest?” Mordecai asked at length, eyes finally leaving the mansion on the hill.

  Madigan shrugged, “Knock on the door.”