Otherworld Protector. Jane Godman
went after Moncoya with his fists swinging, he could not predict Stella’s reaction. She might view Moncoya as the underdog. What if she decided to punish him by siding with Moncoya? It was a chance he couldn’t take. He had to get her to listen to him...or force Moncoya into revealing his true nature.
The movement in the garden drew Cal’s attention again. It had become more obvious now. It was as if the darkness itself was swirling up against the window, shifting and changing shape as it pressed against the glass. The voices he had heard earlier were clearer now. Soft and persuasive, they murmured an incantation. Another sound, like giant beating wings and distant hoofbeats, caught Cal’s straining ears. Stella appeared not to notice these out-of-place sounds. Moncoya, his hearing as finely tuned as Cal’s, looked up with a frown just as the first crack appeared in the giant wall of glass.
Cal faced a difficult choice. He couldn’t remain invisible and shield Stella with his body. Materializing was dangerous because Moncoya would see his face. He would know whom he was dealing with. But Cal’s first duty was to his charge. Those thoughts took a fraction of a second. Then he reacted like lightning. Materializing, he grabbed Stella by the hand and threw her—protesting loudly—down onto one of the oversize cushions as far from the window as possible. Before she could bounce back up again, he covered her body with his own.
He was just in time. The entire glass wall at the rear of the casa imploded, showering the room with shards of glass. Moncoya’s howl of fury rose above the sounds of mayhem as the shapes of the night poured into the room.
“Who dares approach Moncoya in his lair?”
“Lair?” Despite Cal’s efforts to keep her completely covered, Stella wriggled partially out from under him and turned her head to see what had happened. But Cal kept her pinned in place with one of his legs spread across her body. He knew her too well. If there was danger, his feisty charge was likely to throw herself right into the thick of it.
The amorphous mass of the darkness began to shift and three winged figures could now be seen within the quivering cloud. Although their features were indistinct, their figures were female and they were on horseback. Moncoya lifted his hands and the formless horses reared up as though in fright.
“What are they?” Stella’s breath was warm as it tickled Cal’s ear.
“Valkyries.” He answered her absentmindedly. His thoughts were occupied with escape, his eyes measuring the distance to the door. “Be ready to run when I give you the word.”
“You know why we come.” One of the Valkyries moved slightly ahead of the others. Her voice was compelling and echo-like. As the Valkyrie spoke, the shapes around her shifted as though straining to get closer into the room.
“Your audacity is beyond astounding. I have staked the first claim. She belongs to me.” The words were spoken in a booming voice that was totally unlike Moncoya’s usual subtle tones.
“You wrong us. We do not come for the star. Ours is the task of escorting the fallen.” Cal wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought the Valkyrie’s voice seemed to be fading.
“I will give you fallen aplenty. With her at my side, the conclusion to the battle will be swift and bloody, the outcome final. Otherworld will be mine.”
The Valkyrie’s horse lunged nervously as, laughing, Moncoya took a step forward. He raised his hands again and the dark cloud changed, becoming a swirling smoke cloud before gradually dispersing. In its place, as if by magic, Moncoya’s party friends began to pour in through the gaping wall. Laughter and music filled the room as they danced across a floor somehow miraculously clear now of glass and debris. The change in atmosphere brought even more theater to the scene.
“Now,” Cal urged and, to his relief, Stella leaped to her feet and kept pace with him as he ran for the door. As they burst through and into the night air beyond, he grabbed her hand, hauling her to the parked vehicles. Selecting the largest and most powerful of the motorbikes, he swung himself onto it, gesturing for Stella to get up behind him. She obeyed, clasping her arms tightly around his waist and pressing her cheek into his back.
“Can you start it?”
He fished the keys out of his pocket. “It’s mine.”
The engine roared to life and they screeched out of the drive just as the door of the casa flew open.
“I’m so glad I’ve got you for my guardian angel,” Stella yelled as, both barefoot and clad in shorts, they streaked down the hill into the busy city streets.
“Who told you I was an angel?” Cal shouted back over his shoulder, cutting across a stream of traffic.
* * *
“Can we talk about this on the way? Because I for one would like to put as much distance between us and Moncoya as I can.” Cal was throwing clothing into a suitcase while Stella sat curled up in a chair in his hotel room, watching him. Despite the heat, she was clad in one of his hoodies. The sleeves were rolled back and, when she stood up, it hung almost to her knees. Her feet were still bare.
“Talk while you pack. You can start by telling me about Otherworld.”
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Otherworld is a realm inhabited by supernatural beings. It exists alongside the world of the living, but is invisible to most humans. The intrusion of the Otherworld into this one does take place, but, when that happens, it is mainly unobtrusive and harmless.”
“Are you talking about ghosts?”
“Ghosts are the most common manifestation of an overlap between Otherworld and the world of the living, yes. But ghosts are not the only beings to inhabit Otherworld. If they were, my job would be much easier. Ghosts are generally not aggressive, although there are breakaway groups within their numbers, notably banshees and poltergeists. The Ghost Lord is not one of those leaders who seeks to take control of the whole realm of Otherworld.” Cal snapped the suitcase shut and looked around, checking the room to make sure he had collected all of his belongings. “Let’s go.” He glanced down at her feet. “We’ll get you some shoes on the way.”
Stella followed him out of the room. “It sounds complicated.”
“Tell me about it. Just as this world has its different countries and races and religions, so Otherworld has its own dynasties. It is not a physical realm, but it is as fiercely fought. Debates rage as furiously there as they do here. Battles are as bloody, if not more so. The difference is that the weapons used are deadlier and the methods employed are more ruthless. It is my task to ensure that the war for Otherworld does not spill over into the world of the living.”
“Sounds like a hell of a big job for one man.” Where in all of this do you find the time to babysit me? And why? Stella massaged her temples, trying to get rid of the ache that was forming there.
Cal chucked the suitcase into the trunk of a particularly nondescript car, and then held the passenger door open for Stella. She slid inside. It had not once occurred to her not to go with him. Her every instinct cried out that he was her only hope. Against what, she had no idea.
“Car. Bike. You must have known we would have to make a quick getaway,” she said as Cal started the car.
“I know Moncoya.”
Stella shivered. She wasn’t ready for that conversation. “Who are the aggressors in Otherworld?”
The city traffic was heavy and Cal joined a line of cars heading for the suburbs. “It changes over time, with different dynasties fading in and out of prominence. The vampires are always at the forefront of any conflict. Their prince has caused us problems on and off for the past few millennia. Rage is the most powerful underlying motivator for the vampires.” He grinned down at her stunned expression. “Makes them bloody difficult to negotiate with, I can tell you.”
Stella swallowed the obstruction in her throat. “You mean proper vampires? The full-on, bloodsucking kind?”
“Is there another kind?”
“But