Chasing Fate (Sentinel & Guide)

Chapter 14

They wanted to take her from him!

Jack gripped her tight to his chest as he ran with desperation over the snow-covered gravel towards her house. He could make out the slight divots of tire tracks even though they'd been almost smoothed out by the snow, leading him directly to her car and the overwhelming sight of her ....home?

It was small, a tiny half-dome that reminded him of a hobbit hole covered in snow. The surrounding trees dwarfed it and he felt isolated. Even with the sound of the ambulance trying to pick through the snow, the absolute solitude of this place hit him like a brick wall.

It didn't feel right at all. Guides needed company, companionship, and camaraderie. It was a basic need like food or water for a null, amplified immensely by the guide gene. For her to live out of range of any sort of group or family system like a hermit couldn't be healthy.

The scent of dampeners on her tickled his nose. She was almost detoxed of them as the fear-induced sweat poured out of her skin, but the scent of it in her clothes and hair was solid.

Just how long has she been alone?

Jack searched her face as though he might find answers, but only saw her closed eyes as she slept deeply.

The crunching of snow reminded him of his pursuers and he huffed as he maneuvered to open the unlocked door. The ever-faithful dog bounded into the mudroom and shook himself free of snow, kicking his paws on a mat politely before using a pull tie to open the door into the house-proper. The big fluff waited expectantly, door propped against his bulk, for Jack to enter.

It was heartwarming that he seemed to have the dog's approval at the very least. It would be a bit of an annoyance to fight off what appeared to be a solid hundred pounds of beast beneath another ten of fur and teeth.

Jack gave only a perfunctory kick of snow from his boots before entering the home. It wasn't hard to see where to put his guide for the time being, the entirety of the space could fit in one of the compound's living rooms.

It couldn't be more than 500 square feet. He could cross to the back wall in no more than two steps. Her bed seemed to be built into the wall to his left where the inlaid bookshelf seemed to end, protected by a heavy curtain that seemed to be made from tribal weavings of some sort of another.

Carefully, he shifted back the curtain and laid her down, boots hanging over the side of the bed. He would attend to that later. Until then he had to make the place more secure.

Immediately he stepped out into the mudroom and locked the heavy wood door and checked the greenhouse vents to be sure they were secure. Then he took off his boots to dry and stepped into the main area, locking the door and bolting it tightly. The low vibration indicated that under the hippie stucco the walls were pure concrete over thick insulation. The door itself was heavy wood and it would take work to force their way in. by the time they did he could have her out and to safety out one of the big windows that broke up the sloping back wall.

He wasn't satisfied. It was much more fortified than those glamping cabins on the resort, but it wasn't good for permanent living. It was a glorified bunker. Was she one of those survivalists?

A brief glance around the room showed far more books and cozy items than a prepper would indulge in such a tiny space. There was a top of the line television mounted with a top of the line speaker system and a top of the line gaming system on the back wall, angled so it could be played from either the bed or the couch.

The kitchen appliances were all those latest types that you saw at tech conferences and were sure that normal people didn't buy, standing out like chrome and steel thumbs against very off-grid antique decor. It was obvious that she wasn't living in squalor, but why so alone?

A whine brought his attention back to the guide on the bed who was starting to rouse from the lack of contact. Their bond was still very fresh and physical separation, even for the minute it took him to lock up the place, caused discomfort and weakening of the bond.

Jack immediately knelt down to wrestle off the well-worn boots. It seemed she was still warm and dry beneath all of the layers. that was good. They were bonded but he wasn't comfortable with taking the liberty of stripping her bare when he didn't even know her name.

God, his mother was going to give him hell for this. He ticked off his crimes in his head as he pulled her out of her blaringly bright jacket. Trespassing on her land... breaking and entering...bonding under duress. This was everything he was raised to avoid, he was supposed to be the pinnacle of genteel manners.

He was supposed to meet the guide of his dreams on an excursion. The slight sense of danger would heighten their initial bond and they'd spend the rest of the time getting to know each other before deciding to cement it. Then after a week of putting on the charm, he could whisk her away to their new life together as Sentinel and Guide.

Instead, he was kneeling on an absolute stranger's floor with what felt like a black eye and bruised ribs, imprinting on a woman he'd never seen before while NOGS and the police barreled down on him like a hostage situation.

Yet when she turned and reached blindly for his hand in her sleep, there were no regrets.

Taking a risk he leaned down to press a kiss between her knit brows, smoothing them over.

He'd die before he let her go.