The Heart of a Warrior

Chapter 1

** I will try to update every few days but at least once a week. I hope you enjoy what I have written. This is actually the first time I have let anyone besides my family read what I have written. 

Adelaide's POV:

            The moons rays kiss my alabaster skin as I lay on the damp dew covered grass. The stars smiling at me from millions of light years away. It seems strange that I would consider the stars my friends. What is a friend exactly? Someone who makes you feel better when you’re sad. Someone who is always there. That’s what the stars are for me. They always make feel happy and they are always constant, always reliable. They bring me peace.

            Getting up from the grass I run my fingers through my deep red asymmetrical bob and head towards the concrete steps that lead to my front door. Inside the artificial light takes my eyes a moment to adjust. The kettle on my stove wailing like a banshee ready be taken off the flame. The hot water sloshes into the mug resting on the counter and in goes my chamomile tea bag. The sun will be coming up soon.

            I sip at my tea slowly; my senses being consumed by a memory from a long time ago. I have always had these overwhelming memories flood my mind. When I’ve asked people to describe how they feel when they remember past events, they all say similar things. Their descriptions so vague and disconnected, like they see it, but they are seeing it from afar.

            My memories have never felt like that, when my memories creep up on my consciousness, I fall. Completely immersed into what it is my mind is trying to tell me. Just like what is happening now. As if I am sucked from my body and tossed into a place lying deep in my subconscious.

            My eyes shine as my grandmother speaks. I am so consumed by the words coming out of her mouth that I can see the picture she is painting as she weaves her words into a grand world full of color, a world that a lot of times I believe she made up.

            “You see it every evening. The sun chasing the moon across the horizon. But do you know the story behind the sun and the moon?” she asks me and my siblings, the corner of her mouth ticking up into a lopsided grin.

            “Of course, we do grandma, you tell us this story all the time.” Admira states in her high-pitched twinkling voice, shaking her head making her blonde curls swish from side to side as if she cannot believe grandma is telling this story once again.

            My eyes light up at this story every time. It is my favorite. I like it better than any of the stories she tells us about the fae people, warriors, princes and princess, goblins, or trolls. This story speaks to me and touches my soul.

            “Yes, you are right Admira, but it is important. More important than you know.” Her knowing eyes flashing to me. She has an uncanny way of singling me out. Which was quite a feat considering her old age had rendered her blind.

            Looking me dead in my blue eyes she continues her story. “The sun chases the moon across the horizon. Hoping to catch her but never succeeding... Love. That is what makes the sun chase the moon.” She smiles so wide the wrinkles at her eyes crinkle, showing a lifetime of laughs and smiles.

            “The God chases the Goddess. She is beautiful, with long raven colored locks and startling silver eyes, she radiates wisdom. As the sun sets, she chases the sun while dusk descends upon the world.” I hold my breath at this part of the story every time.

            “They are fated. Two halves of a whole, because you cannot have the day without the night. Every so often though, they get to feel each other’s touch and be together for those few precious moments when the sun covers the moon, or the moon covers the sun.” Looking back, I realize that was grandma’s PG way of saying they had s*x. Two halves becoming one during an eclipse.

            “The fated. The God and Goddess,” she says still looking me straight in the eye. “they make a decision once every couple hundred years to bless two people they feel worthy, with a gift. A gift of the power of the love they have for one another, a gift that allows them to be with one another as they wish they could be with each other.”

            “That’s not to say that there aren’t struggles between The Fated, but if they can learn to embrace their love in a pure selfless way, they will achieve more power than they ever knew existed.”

            I can now feel the hard tiles of the floor in my kitchen. The cabinet I have been leaning on leaving an impression in my back from my weight. It is foolish, an old woman’s story meant to make us believe that there is a possibility of magic.

            I walk to the sink to rinse out my now cold tea and head to bed. Slumber envelopes me in seconds and I drift off into a restless sleep. Nightmares crashing upon me and no way to fight them.

                        ****************

            I am on my way home from work. It was a particularly hard day. Listening to my sixteen-year-old patient describe the horrors of her s****l abuse that started at age four, was enough to make me want to hit myself in the head with a hammer. My body convulses involuntarily as the chill runs up my spine.

            The bastard who abused her is behind bars now but the scars he left will never be completely healed, no matter how many sessions she spends with me. But they will make it easier for her to come to terms with what she has suffered and help her to move on.

            My radio drones on in the background. No idea what song is playing but it does not matter. I can’t get into music today. My thoughts are overrun by what my patient told me. I will never understand how an adult can look at a child and think thoughts like her father did. As a Psychiatrist I am supposed to be unbiased but on this one I am not able to do that. That man is a sick and twisted person who got off easy. Able to live his life in his cell while she must find the strength to live every day.

            I hope she is strong enough. She has to be. I have seen too many times a person who was abused as a child either outright kill themselves or die slowly from addictions because they can’t handle the pain.

            A car on the side of the road catches my attention. It’s a big silver SUV, a very expensive vehicle. Too ostentatious for it to be a local’s car. My car slows to see what is going on. I can see the hood of the car up and movement as someone tries to determine the issue.

            “f**k!” a man’s voice comes through my open windows. Upon further inspection I see a man and a woman sitting on the side of the road in the grassy embankment.

            My car eases up behind the SUV. An unnaturally large man with features that angels would sing about for decades and the woman who was somehow just as stunning as the man sit looking irritated at the vehicle.

            My dad has been working on cars since he was eight holding the flashlight in my grandpas’ garage. It was only natural for his children to learn how to work on our own cars, so we weren’t dependent on someone else.

            I wasn’t comfortable approaching these people alone, but I was always taught that if you can help then you do. And this stretch of the road has several houses so I could always scream if necessary, but just in case, I reach into the space between my seat and the center console and pull my 9mm out of its holster and step out of my car.

            Sliding the pistol into the band of my pants at my back I slowly make my way to the group. “Car trouble?” I ask pasting a smile on my face.

            Two sets of eyes make their way to mine. No one speaks for a moment and my mind tells me this was a bad idea. I should’ve just kept driving. In the next heartbeat the woman, a petite blonde with honey brown eyes meets my gaze and gives me a friendly smile.

            “Yeah, we aren’t sure what happened. One minute everything was fine, the next it wasn’t. Our driver pushed on the gas pedal, but it wouldn’t speed up.” She stated mater of factly.

            “Do you mind if I take a look?” I ask.

            “Not at all be my guest, although you may want to ask our friend over there who is at this very moment spewing profanities at the machine.” She almost giggles but composes herself.

            The man sitting on the ground stands to his feet and looks me up and down. He must be at least six feet three inches tall. Then sends me an indignant chuckle. His blonde hair catches the sun’s rays making him look less intimidating.

“Not sure how you’ll be able to do anything more than we did.” He says in a lighthearted tone.

            I snort. “I’ve been working in garages since I was old enough to hold a flashlight. I bet you I can tell you what’s wrong with that monstrosity within the next five minutes.” I say sweetly, raising my eyebrows in a friendly challenge.

            The blonde woman stands looking amused between the two of us.

            “I’m Ava by the way.” Her hand extended, she has a firm grip. At this angle I can fully take in her appearance.

            She is gorgeous for sure, her eyes liquid honey, but has an oddly angular nose for her face. I don’t know how but it makes her appearance striking. She wears nothing more than jean shorts and a white tank top. Which makes sense with this heat. She isn’t well endowed in the chest but that doesn’t take away from her s*x appeal.

            “It’s nice to meet you Ava. I’m Adelaide. Let me see if I can give you a hand.” Her touch is oddly relaxing.

            I can still hear the man cursing at the engine as I make my way around the vehicle. A very large muscular man in a black t-shirt stretched tight around his taught muscles is bent over the front end. His dark brown almost black hair falling over his forehead and obscuring his face. I approach him slowly; this man could do some damage if he wanted to.

            “Excuse me,” I said. “can I be of some assistance?”

            The man stills his movements and straightens his spine. Turning towards me I am frozen in place, unable to take another step. If I thought the others were carved by angels, then this man is a God. He has electrifying green eyes that remind me of seafoam. It isn’t possible for one man to be so beautiful.

            His strong jawline is set in a grimace, as if I have broken his concentration. Though it didn’t sound like he was making much progress considering the names, he was calling the inanimate object.

            “Who are you?” he said the irritation dripping off his tongue.

            “My name is Adelaide, I’m a psychiatrist, I work in the town a few miles that way.” I babble pointing in the direction I had come. Caught off guard by his supernatural beauty.

            “Ok, Adelaide the psychiatrist, what is it you expect to help me with?” He shoots.

            His tone instantly makes me angry. I take time out of my incredibly long and trying day to help a neighbor in need and he wants to get an attitude with me? I should just walk back to my car and drive away.

            “I know what’s wrong with it if what your friend Ava said is any indication.” I shoot back at him, not attempting to keep my own irritation out of my voice.

            “Oh, do you?”

            “I do. Ava,” I turn to her, “can you get in and show me what it’s doing. When you get in, I want you to lightly press the gas pedal. If you floor it, you’ll blow the transmission.” The corners of his mouth curve down for a fraction of a second.

            “I’d be delighted to.” She giggles eager for me to show up the hulking man.

            “Thank you”

            She climbs into the SUV gracefully which is quite a feat because it is quite a tall vehicle. She does as I ask, and I listen. The car’s engine revs as if it is trying to gain speed but just can’t. She scoots down the road, the car behaving like it were just in neutral.

            “Ok!” I shout and she puts it in park.

            Shrugging my suit jacket off my shoulders and down my arms I feel the two men staring at me as my tattoos are exposed. Standing in my white short sleeved button up and slacks I walk again towards the front of the car. I catch the Godlike man’s enticing green eyes.

            “Do you mind if I climb up there?” At five feet tall in order to really inspect the engine I need to be higher.

            “Go ahead.” is all that passes from between his plump dark rose lips.

            I climb up and feel the hem of my shirt coming up over the butt of my gun. “What’s that for?” he asks amused.

            “Protection. Three strangers on the side of the road and one me. Can’t be too cautious.”

            “You plan on shooting us?”

            “Not as long as you all continue being friendly and don’t try anything slick.” I retort.

            He keeps his mouth shut after that, but I saw the way the corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he leaned towards me. “It’s your fuel filter. Problem for you is it’s Saturday and the only auto shop we have within forty-five miles is closed. You’re going to need a tow.” Brushing my fire engine red hair out of my eyes I pull my phone out of my pocket.

            “I can call my dad. He lives a couple miles from here and can tow it on the dolly.” Looking at Ava, she smiles.

            “Sounds like as good a plan as any. Don’t you think Callan?” She speaks to the Adonis; I try to keep from ogling.

            So that’s your name Mr. Tall Dark and Broody. It suits him well. Strong and sexy. His eyes swirl and he narrows his eyes at Ava giving her a look of contempt but it quickly fades into resignation.

            I don’t care for his body language; it screams arrogance and irritation. Like I had just made his day the worst he’d ever had. I was just trying to help. I would like nothing better than to go home, kick my shoes off, and spend the rest of the day binge watching Supernatural.

            Instead I am on the side of the road attempting to help them out of a sticky situation. Ava clears her throat to get my attention, pulling me from the array of thoughts that assault my psyche.

            “Adelaide,” she speaks sweetly, “If you don’t mind, we would be grateful for your help.”

            “No problem. Call me Addy. No one calls me Adelaide except my mother and even then, it’s usually when she’s mad.” I smile.

            I pull out my cell and flip through my recent contacts. My dad’s number pops up third. Pushing the button, it rings three times before a familiar voice sounds through the speaker.

            “Hello.” His deep baritone voice sounds through the speaker along with the tin sound that accompanies over phone.

            “Hey papa bear. I was driving home, and an SUV was on the side of the road broke down. I’m fairly certain it’s the fuel filter but it’s not going anywhere can you hitch the car dolly and tow it? It’s going to take the Yukon to get it there. It’s big.” He chuckles on the other end of the line.

            “Sure ‘nough sweetie. I’ll be there in thirty to forty-five minutes. It’ll take me a minute to get the dolly hitched.” I rattle off our location quickly.

            “Thanks papa bear, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that I hang up the phone and relay the message to the group.