Chapter 8: The Guardian

I checked my phone for the twelfth time in ten minutes. The time said eleven thirty and my thumb hovered over the keyboard, shaking. Dorian's text message remained at the top of my screen; it said "Back entrance. 11:45. Don't be late." I typed 'Ok' and erased it. I typed again 'I'll be there' and deleted it again. Finally, I put the phone in my pocket and stood up from my seat

Zoe continued humming to herself on the bed. The same pop song, over and over. It was the same tune she always hummed to when she and I first moved in together; that time she was a shy girl who was always apologizing for almost everything. Right now the humming seemed to seep into me like ants under my skin, I wanted to yell at her to shut up, and throw pillows at her head. Instead I reached for my jacket and pulled the zipper up around my body without even looking in her direction.

"Why leave so soon?" She asked.

Her voice was soft and sounded human and I looked to her brown eyes, her hands resting on her lap. She looked like she used to, back when she'd ask me if I wanted any of her chips.

"You know I am." My voice was harder than I expected

Zoe tilted her head. "He says good luck."

"Who?"

"Raze." She smiled. It was small and shy, but it twisted my stomach anyway. "He said you will need it."

I wanted to ask her why she was helping him, why she wasn't trying hard enough to fight him back. I wanted to ask her a lot of things but my throat was dry and closed up,my fingers felt like ice, I didn't have time to ask any question that wouldn't change anything

I walked out, shutting the door.

The library was a black outline in the even blacker sky. There was no light coming through the windows, not even a single student outside. The back door of the building faced the old cemetery and the air was thick with the smell of wet dirt and rust. I pulled my jacket tighter around my body and walked towards the figure who was standing near the door. It was Professor Vance, tracing a circle in white chalk with symbols along the border. He didn't look up when I reached a few feet away.

"You came early," he said.

"I couldn't stand being in that room any longer."

He made a quiet noise in his throat. It wasn't a tune, not even a word, just a low vibration, like a motor that was kick-starting inside of him. His hand slid over the concrete quickly, each movement precise. "Your vampire is late."

I crossed my arms. "He's not my vampire.

Vance's lips quirked up on the right side. "Right."

I heard footsteps behind me and I turned around. Dorian stepped in from the shadows, His pale skin looked like it was glowing under the moonlight. His hands buried inside his pockets, his shoulders were tight with a ready posture. He stood so close in a way that I could feel the coldness radiating from him, his gaze moved from Vance to me and then back again to Vance again.

"You're late," Vance said.

Dorian completely ignored him. He concentrated his attention on me, his eyes moving over my face as if he were inspecting me for any wounds. "Are you ready?"

I was desperate to say yes, to say it like I meant it.. I wanted to be brave. Instead it stayed trapped in my throat, it was too thick and heavy for me to push out. I nodded.

Vance stood up from the ground and dusted off his knees. "This is the plan." He pointed to the chalk circle on the ground. "I'll open the lock with your blood and I'll go inside first to get the guardian distracted. Then you two are going to go up to the third floor. The grimoire is on a shelf in the back corner. It glows. It's not possible for you to mistake it for anything else when you see it."

"How long do we have?" Dorian asked, his voice strained.

" Five minutes or four minutes, maybe less." Vance produced a thin, silver dagger that gleamed under the moonlight. "The guardian does not suffer from intruders."

I stared at the dagger, my palm beginning to sweat immediately. "What does it look like?"

Vance's expression was flat. It doesn't look angry nor scared, it was just blank. "You don't want to know."

He held the dagger out to me, hilt first. " Stretch out your hand."

I looked from the gleaming blade to Vance. "Do I have to?"

"Do you want the book?" He said

I held out my hand and Vance took my wrist, making a quick clean cut on my palm before I could have a moment of regret. It was a searing and a hot sting, I bit my lips together so hard that I could taste my blood like metallic. Droplets began to pool and then streak across the chalk circle, the blue symbols beginning to glow.

The back door opened.

"Go," Vance instructed, pushing the door wide and going inside. "Stay close.”

The air in the library was cold and stale, like a basement left unopened for years. I could taste the dust on my tongue. Books floated in the air. Not flying. Just hovering, rotating slowly as if they were being watched. Shadows writhed on the walls. No footsteps to be heard, yet I could hear breathing. Someone else's breathing. Something else.

Dorian led the way, his large body obscuring most of my vision. "Stay behind me," he told me.

"I'm not a damsel, Dorian."

He didn't protest. He just grabbed my wrist and began pulling me toward the stairs. His fingers were cold, and his hand was shaking. Slightly. Just enough for me to feel it.

I pulled my hand away. "You're afraid."

He walked forward. "I'm cautious. There is a difference."

We climbed the stairs. The wooden steps creaked under our feet and the sounds amplified in the quiet, echoing as if screams were bouncing off the walls. Second floor. Third floor.

The guardian was waiting.

It didn't have a face. Just a form. Tall and thin, with hands that had far too many fingers and too long arms. It was positioned before the back corner, swaying as if a tree was blown by the wind. No eyes. No mouth. But I felt it looking at me.

"Thief," it hissed. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Thief. Thief. Thief."

"RUN!" Vance shouted from the bottom of the stairs. His screaming echoed up the stairwell. "I can only hold it for one minute!"

Dorian pushed me toward the shelves. "GET IT!"

I ran.

The guardian moved quickly. Too quickly. Its fingers latched around Dorian's neck before he could get away and he was ripped from the ground, his feet kicking the air while his hands clawed uselessly at the grasping fingers.

I yanked the grimoire off the shelf. It was warm, pulsing like a heart, and when I flipped it to a random page, the words glowed gold.

"By blood and bone, by earth and stone...."

The guardian stood still.

Its head swung toward me. No eyes. No mouth. But I knew that I was being watched.

"Continue reading!" Dorian breathed out, choked.

I opened my mouth again to read the next sentence aloud.

The grimoire was yanked out of my hands.

I spun around.

Vance. He stood there holding the book against his chest. He was smiling, but not with nerves, not with happiness. The smile was slow, satisfied, as though he'd waited for this exact moment for his whole life.

"Thanks for opening the lock," he said. "Now give me the book."

I blinked. "What?"

He cocked his head. "I said, give me the book."

Dorian dropped to the floor, panting heavily. He choked, his hand flying to his throat. "You... Traitor..."

Vance gave a harsh laugh that scraped against my ears. "I didn't lie. I am a Nephilim." His eyes flared gold. Gold, not blue, and certainly not human. "Just not on the vampires' side. The demon council paid more than the vampires ever could."

My legs were shaking beneath me, and I felt hollow from the inside out. "You work for demons?"

"Work for them? No," Vance sneered. He pulled a silver dagger from the belt and held it in the air. "I am them."

He raised the blade to the air

"Sorry, Arya, no hard feelings."

Dorian hurled himself at him.

He went in between us, the dagger embedding itself in his chest. There were no blood-vampires that didn't bleed-but Dorian fell nonetheless. He crashed onto the floor, hitting with a dull thud, and didn't move.

"NO!" I screamed.

Vance gripped my hair in one hand, pulling me toward him. The hold was iron and I scratched and kicked, but he didn't even blink.

"You're coming with me," he said, his voice raspy and hot against my ear. "Raze wants to meet you properly."

He tugged me forward toward the stairs. Dorian’s body remained motionless on the floor.

The guardian let out a whisper. "Thief."

And Vance clutched the golden-lit grimoire tightly in his other hand.