The Wardens of Terra

Chapter 4: Powerful signs

Troy felt the power of his sign reverberate throughout his entire body from the second he stepped over the threshold of the wreck of a house he'd been sent to investigate. His Thunderbird hummed beneath his skin.

Something was not right in this place. He tensed as he tried to take in everything about his surroundings. It was cold. Duh. But on second glance he realized the coldness seemed to come from upstairs. And it had nothing to do with the weather. Focus, fucker.

He didn't have time for second thoughts. The Wardens of Terra were back in play, and this here was his big debut. He was alone in this place. Though it was only a couple of states North from where he was raised and trained, it might as well have been on another planet.

For the first time, Troy was on his own. Far away from Rex, and the other Shifters from his station. They weren't a Pack per se, but they were the closest thing he'd ever had to family. He was not scared, he was anxious. To prove himself and to prove to the Heralds that, yes, the Wardens were indeed ready for this next step.

"It's our time now, finally. There's been a lot of activity up north, Waman. Disturbances in nature attributed to Dark magic. We've pinpointed it to this locale, I want you to go in, neutralize the target, and if he or she remains alive, bring ‘em in for questioning. Now, this is the first time I have ever uttered these words outside of a drill, son, I don't need to tell you how important this is. Will you, Troy Waman, protect Terra?" Troy trembled with eagerness at the behest of Rex's deep voice. The huge Bear Shifter sent shivers of anticipation along Troy's spine with his directive. Not that Troy had told the fucker.

He heard himself now as he'd answered Rex in the words, he'd been taught so many years before, "I am a Warden of Terra. Protecting this world from evil is my sacred duty and honor. I will execute my orders to the best of my ability or die trying, sir."

"It's about f*****g time, Warden."

That was all he'd said to him. His Station Master did not utter another single word as he'd handed him the plastic keyless remote. He'd sent the necessary coordinates to Troy's GPS without even looking up.

Troy shook his head. The big ass Bear Shifter had turned his attention back to the tablet in front of him. Effectively dismissing Troy from the Station. No words of encouragement or concern, not even a wave goodbye. Not that Troy expected any.

It was simply the way Rex operated. He was cold as ice. Troy wasn't exactly drowning in friends, but his Station mates were cool people, though a little rowdy at times. Perhaps that was why he felt drawn to Rex. His standoffish behavior was something Troy totally comprehended. It's not easy being the boss, he smirked thinking how odd it would have been to hear any sappy s**t from the tough as nails Grizzly.

Nah. He liked things just the way they were. Troy appreciated Rex's gruff demeanor. It simply wouldn't do for an elite team of Shifters to snivel all over each other on their very first assignment. So, he'd simply turned and walked out of his Station, determined to make his first mission a success.

No f*****g way am I gonna mess this up. He had a job to do and he wasn't about to let anything f**k it up. He sniffed the air, his head tilting back as he took in the charge in the atmosphere. There was definitely nothing natural about the sudden drastic drop in the temperature since he'd exited his vehicle.

He'd cased the street from the SUV for over an hour before he'd climbed out into the street. The cold had seeped right through his clothing, biting at his skin. The smell of rot and mold increased in the air and the wind seemed to pick up in speed and frequency.

Whatever was happening inside the house, it had Dark magic written all over it. This was exactly the type of thing he'd been training for. He shook off his nerves and proceeded. The sky flashed with lightning and his Thunderbird stirred. For whatever reason, Dark magic always affected the weather, and that was his domain. His Air sign made it natural for him to look to the skies for any hint of what it was Troy was about to face.

He narrowed his eyes as the sounds coming from the upstairs of the house grew louder. Time to do this. The door flew apart under the strength of his shoulder. f**k, he hadn't meant for the thing to explode, but that's what usually happened when he put a little muscle to anything.

He was a Shifter after all. A Warden to be exact. His abilities were above the usual range for supernaturals. It wasn't his ego talking, it was simple truth. His Thunderbird was powerfully built as was the man. Tall and muscular on any given day, but with the sun in Aquarius during the winter months, Troy was even more so. He practically buzzed with the increased strength and energy of his sign.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins. He was ready for this. Troy felt the boost in his powers and noted with satisfaction the steady stream of magic buzzing and humming from the small symbol that marked the skin of his right palm.

The two zig-zagged waves symbolizing his place in the Wardens marked the sensitive skin of his hand. It was his birth sign, Aquarius, the water-bearer, was actually an air sign and Troy had been honored, or rather deemed, a retainer of Aquarius since birth. He'd been taught to honor and appreciate the extra gifts he'd been given since he was very young.

Shifters whose gifts were enhanced by astrological signs or other ethereal occurrences were rare, as were Thunderbirds. His heritage was as unique as it was mysterious. From his coppery skin to the blue-black hair that fell to his shoulders, Troy looked the epitome of what any romance novel cover would feature as the Native American hero.

He was aware of his attractions. He wasn't bad looking at all, and his ethnicity made him something of an oddity to some normals. If only they knew what he really was. Not that he cared.

He was too focused on his duty to take any serious interest in some female. Sure, he had his share of one-night stands, but he wasn't cut out for the rest.

No matter what the Fates had written in the stars about Shifters, Troy was not interested in finding a mate. Fairytales aside, he was all about his duty. He inhaled deeply as he entered the strange place. The subtle fragrance of caramel reached his nostrils.

Every nerve ending in his body seemed to go on instant alert. He felt his Thunderbird take notice. His unique brand of Shifter magic pulsed under his skin. Some Shifters denied magic, but not those marked by Terra. He understood too well, that magic was woven throughout every thread of the universe.

The sweet smoky fragrance grew stronger, touching someplace deep and hidden inside of him. For some reason, at that moment, he recalled the story he'd been told as a young boy. One every young Warden had heard back at the Station for as long as he remembered:

Before a Shifter is born, he or she is chosen to be a Warden, selected and blessed by his or her own unique circumstances. It is then that the Fates determine the other half of the Shifter's soul, the one true mate for each Warden designed specifically to balance the Shifter. Their all-encompassing love written in the stars, destiny engraved in the heavens and never to be thwarted. When the soulmates meet, the Warden will know, and when the claiming is complete, strength will overflow in the veins of the Shifter and he or she will be bound for eternity in the warm embrace of the powers of their anima magicae.

It was a fairytale. One served to comfort lonely little Shifters who'd been taken from what he'd always assumed were the usual loving families. Not like his. No, Troy was different, and not just because of his heritage. s*x was s*x. Nothing more to it than that.

He'd scratched his itch when the occasion allowed, but he wasn't looking for happily ever after. Hell, he didn't believe in it. Troy learned to ignore the stares and blatant invitations of the normals, that's what Shifters generally called humans, around him. It was easy, considering he was not usually around them.

Up till then, his time had predominantly been spent at his Station with the other Wardens. His long drive to Shadowland, NY tested his slowly built-up patience and tolerance for humans. Curious fuckers with no common sense. Hardly new a predator when they saw one.

Didn't they know he was a raptor capable of slicing and dicing them as quickly as he looked at them? No. Of course not. They also had no idea he would risk his life to save them from destruction.

He shook his head and forced himself to pay attention to his surroundings. Why the f**k had he taken that little trip down memory lane anyway?

Fuck if he knew. The scent of caramel grew stronger and his dark brown eyes glowed gold with the power of his beast. He took notice of the malevolent charge in the atmosphere inside the house.

His feathers bristled under his human skin. The bird inside of him unusually attentive. What was with that scent? Caramel and something else, something spicy and feminine.

He stepped over the debris from the door with the keen intent of a man on a mission. Unwavering in his concentration to find the source of the commotion and, if he was being honest, the tantalizing scent that had him hardening in his jeans.

What the f**k? This is no time for a f*****g boner, man. He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the creaky attic door where a sickly yellow light oozed from the gap between said door and the rickety looking floorboards beneath it.

The house was old as f**k. Rotting floorboards, cracks in the walls and ceilings, obvious signs of water damage. It was badly in need of a little TLC. Or maybe a few swings from a wrecking ball. The woman who'd lived there was elderly, perhaps that was why she'd allowed her home to fall apart.

Not surprisingly, the attic door caved in as soon as he pressed into it. The splintering wood made a cracking sound lost among the increasingly loud howling noises coming from beyond.

Troy blinked against the dust particles and the unearthly glow only to stop in shock once his eyes refocused. The sight that greeted him was astounding to say the least.

A grimoire, or book of spells, floated above the unfinished floor of the attic. Its pages whipped to and fro in the unnatural breeze that flitted through the stale room. Above the mildew and dust, was the distinct odor of Dark magic, sickeningly sweet like rotting corpses.

Even more alarming was the aroma beneath it all. Troy inhaled, the intoxicating scent made every hair on his body stand up. Like caramel and whiskey, sweet and heady at the same time.

He looked down to the floor and was stunned to see a mane of curly brown hair surrounding a face so pale and fair with glowing green eyes, like some kind of angel staring back at him. s**t. The glowing eyes. Was she a Witch?

His Thunderbird screamed in his mind's eye. Troy wanted to cover his ears, but it would do no good. f**k. His beast was already taking control. He looked down at his half-turned hands and tried to shake off the Change.

His beast screeched and screamed in his mind's eye. His steps slowed, they felt heavy as he stared down at the luscious body on the floor. Ignoring the shock in her bright eyes, he breathed deep and swayed slightly on his feet. Mine. Mate.

"Oh s**t," he said aloud.

"Don't come in here!" She'd said right before he entered, but how could he have stopped himself?

"Run," she mouthed, unable to do more than that.

Troy was stunned. His mate. Now? Here?! It didn't matter. Not if she'd been caught practicing Dark magic. Not one bit. Troy wanted to scream his rage. What the f**k were the Fates thinking? But he didn't have the opportunity.

The dark-haired beauty laid out before him like some damn sacrifice, arched her back and cried out. Her lush body writhed on the litter strewn floor in pain, eyes wide open, yet sightless, pink lips parted while she yelled. Whatever was going on, she was being hurt. Hell no.

Troy reacted immediately, as he'd been trained to do. Anger and fury that she'd somehow been injured on his watch filled him. He did his best to temper his warring emotions. The space was small, but the attic ceiling was high enough.

Unusually so. About twelve feet or more. He did not think, he simply acted, switching skins to his enormous Thunderbird. He tore through his clothing without a care. He needed to help her. Now.

Blue-black feathers covered his wings, a stark contrast to his white underbelly. He stood on powerful legs ending in huge, claw-tipped talons. His Thunderbird took in the yellowish green Magic that flowed from the book like a sickness. He knew instinctively what had to be done.

Troy allowed his beast free reign, trusting in his other self to do what was needed. Opening his wings to span almost seventeen feet, which was practically the entire length of the room, Troy carried himself above the plywood floorboards.

Intuition and extensive training took over. Troy assessed the situation instantaneously. He needed to stop the spell bleeding Darkness into the land from the pages of that book.

He opened his large, hooked beak and released a powerful battle cry. Instinct rode him hard. Troy used his beast's eyes, rotating them in his head to quickly take in the scene. His three-hundred-forty-degree vision when used with the power of his sign, gave him a unique view of the scene before him.

The woman, his mate, seemed to have trapped herself in some sort of spell. She must have done so while using the ancient grimoire, which as far as he could tell, was inherently evil. But thy? He shoved the question to the back of his mind.

All that mattered right then was stopping the book. The stink of garbage and rotting flesh increased as did the raging winds and dropping temperatures. It was like a f*****g blizzard inside that attic, sans snow. f**k and damn.

His supernaturally enhanced eyesight picked up every nuance in that small space. He'd been trained for this and with some effort, he was able to put his rage at his mate's injuries aside. He concentrated instead on containing the situation.

Troy opened his beak wide and released a deep, barking cry. It was the signature call of his Thunderbird, and he reveled in its power as he cried into the air.

Both his mate and the book shrieked and bucked wildly against his unique brand of Shifter magic. The grimoire pushed back against him. The powerful odor of rot filled his nostrils, but he was more determined than ever. He wielded his song like a sword. Brandishing each note with deadly accuracy.

Unlike regular Shifters, he held the power of Aquarius within. He had special access to the sign and usage of his element, the air, to access that magic. Luckily for the universe, he'd vowed to use said powers for the forces of good.

Troy had been trained well at his Station to do just that. He opened his beak and struck another chord. This one higher than the last. He needed to quell the book's power. The evil coming from the pages grew desperate. Its magic stunk of rotten flesh and a vileness that he'd yet to name.

Yet underneath it all, he found the smoky-sweet caramel whiskey scent of his mate. Almost too faint, but not quite. She needed him, and he was powerless to do anything but heed her call. Mate. Mine.

He struck his wings together, the mighty clash sending waves of his power through the air. Blue and white light shone from his wings, his power worked to fend off the inky darkness that emerged from the book like a slew of rats bent on escaping a sinking ship.

With the strength of Aquarius pulsing through his veins, Troy thrust his wings together again and again. He managed to weave his unique brand of Shifter magic through the stale air of the attic. The book howled furiously, sending wind and then flame whipping through the air. Troy batted both back with each stroke of his magnificent wings.

His dual nature made him stronger than most. The darkness shrank back as his beast screeched loudly and continued to beat his wings against its wrath. His mate cried out again, eyes closed, chest heaving with each breath she struggled to take.

Troy hated that he was hurting her, but damned attraction or not he must persevere. It was very possible she was his enemy. Okay, it was pretty obvious. f**k. Mate or not, she must be stopped, and it was his job to do so.

No hurting her, she is our mate. Mine. His Thunderbird growled the words in his mind's eye. He couldn't refute the beast's claim, but he'd sworn an oath.

Torn inside, he fought the Dark magic with his growing rage. He watched the smoky darkness of the book diminish with each note he struck. The bright blue and white magic of his Thunderbird's song wrapped around the sickly yellow aura of the grimoire, blanketing the evil in light.

His call grew stronger and each time he struck out with his wings, beating them in time to his song, the evil tome shuddered and croaked. Troy fought fiercely.

His mate's weak groan almost made him lose his concentration. Pain radiated in his chest. Their bond had already begun, yet, as much as it hurt him, he knew this was the best way to help her.

With one final cry, the book shook and closed, finally dropping to the floor with a heavy thud. It pulsed near his now unconscious mate. The woman was slumped over on her side curled into an almost fetal position. She could've been killed, his chest rumbled at the thought.

Never. She is mine.