The Protector

THIRTY-SEVEN

I sat on my new white comforter and stared at my freshly painted white wall. I needed to sleep, but I couldn't fall asleep if I wanted to, despite the utter exhaustion I felt. It was a little past 8 p.m. and my body knew it. I closed my eyes and fell back on the bed, hoping my body would give in. After tossing and turning for several minutes, I knew it was a lost cause and decided to make myself useful. I still had to write my Introduction to Protection Studies midterm paper. Protector Saldanha informed the class the paper had to be a minimum of ten pages and should focus on one of The Protection legends. My topic was fairly easy to choose. I wanted to learn all I could about the Legend of the Sisters and the fire and hell that would erupt from their sheer existence. Their unforeseen and all mighty powers were intoxicating, as was the fact Francesca Radulov despised them so much. I was unsure which fact made the legend that much more appealing to my twisted mind.

I opened my new shiny rose gold laptop and stared at the blinking cursor for what felt like an eternity. The overwhelming stench of fresh paint made me nauseous and clouded my creativity. I snapped the laptop shut and shoved my books into my backpack. I needed a change of scenery, and the library back at Dallas Christian University had always given me the perfect environment in which to study. I had yet to see the Library at The Loft, but Avery had cheekily mentioned it was a great place to hook up. I smiled as I entered the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor.

When the doors opened I was floored by the beautiful scene in front of me. The Library encompassed the entire third floor. Every square inch was either floor to ceiling glass, books, or light wooden desks. A few Protectors were in line in front of me to enter the Library and they lifted their black shirts, flashing their buff, tattooed mid drifts to gain access, but since as I was only an Academy prospect, I had to gain access by scanning my hand on a keypad that beeped green and allowed me to push through the glass door. As I watched the handsome Protector in front of me lift his shirt and scan his tattoo, I was reminded of the first time I saw Kyler's tattoo in my room, and how envious I was of his Protector status, not to mention his perfectly defined abs. Avery informed me the three line tattoo near each Protector's ribs was a part of the graduation ceremony, and a symbol you were finally one of the lucky few. Of course, the more I found out about The Protection, the less I felt "lucky" was the right adjective. The concept of the tattoo made me uneasy, not only because of the massive needle involved, but because of the amount of surveillance involved too. The idea of random memory recalls and The Protection being able to track me at any given moment suddenly made me anxious. I quietly hoped after graduation I would be able to move as far away as possible, out from under my father's thumb, Helen's influence, and Kyler's new happy family. Maybe I could move back to Portland, or even to Mexico City as Julian and I had discussed many nights last summer. My heart clenched at the thought of him spending the night in the ICU alone, connected to all those damn monitors. It's all your fault the dark voice whispered dejectedly as I dropped my backpack onto an empty table at the back of the library. The table was secluded behind a glass wall full of books, giving me the false pretense of privacy.

I flipped open my laptop and spread my books across the table, skimming through the pages for any reference of the Sisters, but found none. I frowned. It seemed like the legend was well known among the Protection society, yet there was little to no written material. I huffed, wishing I had chosen an easier topic. A wild idea popped into my head, and I closed my eyes so I could focus. In the past, when I thought of Kyler, I was magnetically drawn to him, knowing instinctively where to go to find him.

"Okay," I whispered quietly under my breath, "show me the book I need." I felt a gentle tug, deep inside, not nearly as powerful as with Kyler, but it was definitely there. I rose to my feet and moved in the direction of the pull, winding through the stacks of books and curious eyes, to the opposite corner of the library. This section of the library was a little darker than the rest, with various overhead lights burned out, and a thick layer of dust coating the books. Folklore. I found it odd the bookshelf was labeled in crooked mismatching letters, much different than the clean symmetrical look of the rest of the library. My fingers trailed along the dusty books and my mind wandered back to a different time. A time when my biggest fear was losing the big volleyball match on Friday night. When I blinked my eyes I was suddenly standing in the intimate stacks of Dallas Christian University's library. Great. Another vision movie.