TWO

She wasn’t hiding, Ivy assured herself as she sat in the darkened kitchen at two in the morning. She was merely seeking some privacy – potentially the last moment of privacy she was likely to experience for the foreseeable future. She groaned, twirling the spaghetti onto her fork in a thick swirl of carbohydrate bliss before shovelling the entire thing into her mouth. Her cheeks puffed out as she chewed and she wondered idly if perhaps she had bitten off more than she could chew. She barely restrained the self-deprecating snort; she had well and truly gotten in too deep here and she wasn’t talking about the pasta.

She was a ranger, the boogeymen of their society. Rangers were notoriously lone wolves, working within their five-man unit only when absolutely necessary to track, capture, or kill chades – the plague of their society. They were also responsible for policing and punishing the paladins and even wardens when they committed a crime. As such, they were not viewed in a kind light. Not that Ivy cared. She was an anti-social loner who preferred her own company and found the social airs of their society tiresome and distasteful. So, being feared and avoided suited her right down to her very marrow.

The other perk to being a ranger instead of a sworn knight was that she didn’t have to share her vitality if she didn’t choose to. Vitality was what they called the life-giving energy all wardens required to maintain their elements. Being a paladin, she produced the unique energy in a continuous loop but was unable to harness the power of it. Without wardens, who could not produce it but could utilise it, the precious source of energy would be wasted and nature would be unable to thrive. The world would basically come to one big crashing halt – not ideal, even to a grouch like her.

As a ranger, she was rarely called upon to recharge a warden because rangers never bonded to an Order. The intimacy of such a bond was never something she had been interested in, nor was the permanency of such a relationship. She knew most paladins were born with a deep sense of duty where wardens and nature were concerned but it was not the case for her. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a sense of responsibility but her calling had led her in a different direction; to the rangers. And although becoming a ranger had essentially made her a social outcast – through fear and superstition – she was more than content with her life.

And yet, here she was, voluntarily providing Dex with vitality. Somehow, she had become the sole source of vitality to a redeemed chade. It was certifiable, considering she literally removed chades’ heads for a living. What’s more, she had also managed to become Max’s personal spy within the International Domain Council. She shook her head, unsure how her world had spiralled so swiftly out of control to a point where she was the trusted operative of a legit goddess. Life is weird, she reflected.

A few months ago, her brother had invited her to meet his new liege. When Beyden had first told her he was now a sworn paladin in an Order with six other knights, she had been thrilled for him. Beyden had been deemed socially unacceptable eight years prior and had been banned from ever completing the Paladin Trials unless he renounced his ‘abhorrent ways’. It was a social castration in their society and had meant her very friendly and very honourable brother would never be permitted to fulfil his calling. Beyden had been intensely disappointed and ashamed – but not of himself. No, he had been royally pissed at their society. It had been the first time she had ever seen her kind-hearted brother with bitterness in his beautiful amber eyes.

She had been more than a little concerned about what would happen to her baby brother in such an elitist society but he hadn’t been adrift for long, thankfully. Beyden had been offered a roof over his head here with Ryker as well as honest work at the training lodge. As a ranger, she was posted all over the world and, in the past, had preferred to move from one encampment to another. But she had requested a more permanent position at the New South Wales encampment here in Australia the day after Beyden had moved into the huge converted barn. Nikolai had been her commanding officer for years and had been stationed here since the Great Massacre, so it hadn’t been difficult to ensure she remained close to her brother. Not that she saw him often, she admitted.

Growing up, they had been extremely close. She had been an only child for one hundred and twenty years – that had suited her personality just fine. So when her mother had announced she was pregnant again – with a warden Ivy had never met – she had been somewhat less than enthusiastic at the prospect of a sibling. But almost nine months later, she had fallen in love for the very first time. Beyden had curled his tiny fingers around her thumb and gazed up at her with his unique golden eyes and she had been a goner. She had loved spending time with him – almost as much as their mother had. Beyden’s sperm donor had taken one look at the beautiful, bouncing baby boy, realised he wasn’t a warden and had left that very day.

Good riddance. She, Beyden, and their mother had never even noticed his absence and his name had rarely been spoken since. Beyden had grown into a man with the perfect temperament to become a sworn knight within an Order – unlike herself. And although he was somewhat of a pacifist at heart, his deep sense of honour made him a valuable and loyal addition to any liege. That’s why when Bey told her he was finally in an Order, she had been so happy for him she had almost cried. But then she had learned he was a part of an Order of outcasts and rejects with some unknown, long lost warden. She had been disappointed because she wanted nothing more for her brother than to thrive in their society. He was the best man she knew and she wanted the rest of the world to have the chance to know him as she did.

She shook her head over her initial assumptions – boy, had she been wrong. The Order was made up of some of the most famous – and infamous – paladins of their history. And, oh yeah – a freaking Custodian! Not that she knew that at the time Beyden had asked her to come and meet his new liege. But because Beyden rarely asked anything of her, she hadn’t hesitated to accept his request – even though the situation had the potential to be awkward for her on a few levels.

Just last year, she had gotten horrendously drunk and had made the decision to sleep with Beyden’s landlord and boss, Ryker. The man had been a real arsehole – snarling and snapping at everyone all the time. At the time, his rude disposition was reinforced by the large, angry scar running down one side of his face. But for all that, the man was flippin’ smoking hot; six-foot-four of solid muscle, ripped abs, thick black hair … and nipple rings. He was the very epitome of a bad boy and she would challenge any female to say he wasn’t sexy as hell. It had been one night of scratching mutual itches and if she was being honest, she only had vague recollections of the evening. She had always thought her fuzzy memories were a shame until she had stepped foot into the kitchen and realised Ryker was now very seriously involved with his new liege. After getting to know Max, she was now very glad she wasn’t able to swap stories with the outspoken redhead.

Because she was still alone in the kitchen, she allowed herself to grin when she remembered her very first conversation with Max when they were alone. The woman had wanted to know what Ryker had been like in the sack back when he was a ‘major douche’. The woman didn’t have an ounce of guile in her and even Ivy had been helpless against the woman’s charms. Max had patted her on the back in sympathy, explaining that Ryker was now off the menu but that there were still two eligible, and edible men, available in the house. The notorious flirt, Axel and the fresh-faced, Lark.

She shivered and was promptly annoyed at herself for her girly reaction to a mere name. Despite herself, her eyes seemed to have taken a liking to the earth paladin – which was pure ridiculousness, she assured herself. He was only thirty-one and technically was only just old enough to undertake the Trials let alone serve in an Order. But here he was, serving alongside six fellow paladins as well as bound to the daughter of Mother Nature. She wasn’t sure how the hell he had managed to achieve all that given there wasn’t anything remarkable about him as far as she could tell. And she was a very good judge of character – even if she did say so herself.

Sure, maybe he was okay looking with that lush auburn hair and the brightest green eyes she had ever seen. His smile wasn’t too bad either – and he smiled a damn lot she noticed. And fine – maybe she could admit that his body was pretty much one long, lean line of toned musculature. And he was smart, like genius smart apparently, but none of those things made him special. Nope – there was nothing special about Lark … at all.

Wanting to bash her head against the table, she contented herself with another overly-full fork of pasta instead – almost choking when a large shadow loomed behind her. Luckily, she recognised that shadow and the moment wasn’t going to be as demoralising as it could have been.

“Ivy? What are you – oh,” her brother choked off his original question in order to laugh at her expense.

She was sure she in no way resembled the infamous rangers of their world right at this moment. Her cheeks were puffed out like a rabid chipmunk and she was tenderly cradling a bowl of spaghetti like it was a newborn baby. Carbohydrates were her one weakness. She figured that was allowed. Even Superman had his kryptonite.

“Are you okay?” Beyden asked, sitting directly across from her at the large wooden table.

She chewed maniacally for a few seconds, swallowing noisily before replying, “Of course. Why?”

Beyden shrugged, “I dunno. It kind of looks like you’re trying to eat your feelings.”

She scowled fiercely in his direction and knew he could see her clearly even in the dim light because he swiftly raised his hands in apology;

“Or something …” he added.

She snorted, “Sarcasm, Bey? From you? I think you’ve been hanging around these people too much.”

The chair creaked as he leaned forward, “These people are my family – yours too if you let them.”

She barely repressed her sigh of impatience. She really hoped he wasn’t going to try to get her involved or some shit. She was here and she was contributing for a specific purpose. She wasn’t there to be adopted by a bunch of ragtag knights and their nutty liege. “I’m good with what I’ve got, thanks,” she informed her brother.

He shook his head, “And what is that, exactly? Your Ranger Unit and that hyperactive hippie Commander of yours?”

She smiled – something she rarely did in public, but could do freely in front of her brother, “You know Nik hates it when people call him a hippie.”

Beyden grunted, “Well then, he shouldn’t wear that bloody earring, should he?”

Ivy didn’t answer, figuring the question was rhetorical. Sure enough, her baby bro had already moved on to more important things – eyeing her bowl of spaghetti napolitana like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Are you going to finish that?” he nodded to the half-eaten bowl.

She smiled again and pushed the bowl across the table. Beyden was an absolute bottomless pit when it came to food – strictly vegetarian though. He didn’t eat meat in any of its forms. He was, as she had thought earlier, a pacifist at his core. She indulged herself by watching him eat for the next few minutes. The silence was a comfortable one and the act of him eating with her watching was familiar and brought back fond memories of his childhood for her. They had both been very lucky to have been raised in a loving home with a wonderful mother who hadn’t given two shits if they were paladins or wardens or spotted penguins. She imagined not even half of the population could say the same thing. And wasn’t that a wretched testament to their society? But, although Bey had grown up happy and secure, there was a new sense of contentment about him now that she had never seen in him before. She figured she owed that to this house and its occupants.

“You’re really happy here, huh?” she asked.

Beyden licked off the last of the rich tomato sauce from the fork as he nodded his head, “Happier than I thought I could be. I had no idea that being in an Order would feel like this. I didn’t feel like anything was missing before but now that I have something to compare it with? There was a definite lack. And to think I may never have known if Max hadn’t come along …”

Ivy knew Beyden had resigned himself to being Order-less after the ‘incident’ had occurred. It was still a touchy subject and she was loathe to upset the easy atmosphere but she couldn’t stop herself from asking;

“Why didn’t you ever just deny it, Bey?” She didn’t say what the it was; there was no need.

Beyden sighed, a long-suffering sigh as if he had heard the question numerous times. And indeed, he had. Both herself and her mother had pressed him for answers – not that they cared one way or another what the answer was. But Ivy had been hurt that Beyden hadn’t felt he could talk to her. He should have felt safe with her. They were family.

“Because I shouldn’t have had to. It shouldn’t have mattered,” Beyden recited, just as he had done countless times in the past.

“But …”

“No buts, Ivy. Buts can’t change the past. Besides, we’re never going to agree on this,” he stated.

“But it was so unfair!” she exploded, anger and pain and humiliation on her brother’s behalf hitting her full force again. “You took the blame for something you didn’t even do and you were ostracised for it.”

Bey shrugged massive shoulders, “So what?” he asked, as if the past was no big deal, “Look where I am now. I’m the beast paladin to the only Custodian in existence. I’d say I’ve ended up right where I was supposed to.”

Ivy inhaled through her nose a couple of times and tried to replicate the calm Beyden was projecting. Her outburst and display of emotion were totally out of character for her and if anyone other than Beyden could see her now, they would think she was having a stroke or something. Rangers did not show emotions. Rangers were stoic and didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of them. But this slight against her brother wasn’t something she had been able to forgive or forget.

“But your life would have been so much easier if you –” she began, only to be rudely interrupted by her eternally polite brother.

“I don’t want my life to be easy, Ivy. I want it to be right.”

Stupid, big, noble idiot, she raged internally – but it was with affection … kind of; “And you think this is right? This house full of crazy knights, a mysterious Custodian, a half-chade-half-warden, and a dog called Zombie? In what world is that right?”

Bey laughed out loud and had her lips twitching despite herself; his laugh was contagious.

“In my world,” he answered, “It’s all perfectly right in my world,” he reached across the table and grabbed her hand, “Why don’t you see if it can be right for you too?” He patted her hand before taking his empty bowl to the sink and rinsing it out. “Think about it, huh?”

When he left her alone in the early hours of the morning, in the magnificent kitchen of timber and stone, she admitted she could think of little else.