A Storm in the Making

Chapter 26--Drafted!

“Welcome, Storm,” said Dr. Spinner softly, ushering me into a candle-lit study that smelled of new leather, old books and smoky candles. An errant draft as he closed the door, blew a strand of Dr. Spinner’s long beard against my arm. It felt soft as a cat’s fur. I hadn't expected that. Dr. Spinner smiled at me and tucked the strand back into his belt with a murmured apology.

The three Hermits were lined up like ancient birds along the edge of a comfortable looking sofa. Their dried apple faces peered in my direction eagerly. Their ancient beards were tucked safely beneath their royal-colored belts.

Dr. Spinner led me to a pair of overstuffed chairs facing them. A small table, nearly hidden beneath a precarious pile of books, separated Dr. Spinner and I from the wizards. Dr. Spinner offered one of the chairs to me, and took the other for himself.

I think they were trying to make me comfortable, but this was too much like being called to the principal’s office to feel comfortable—despite Dr. Spinner’s mood altering attempt.

I merely rolled my eyes at him and moaned, “Oh, Ple-e-ze.”

Dr. Spinner shrugged by way of apology, and stopped his hoodoo with a twist of his wrist.

I waited for someone to speak, but as I had learned earlier today, the Hermits did not get in a hurry. I clamped my teeth together and hid my clenched fists in the arms of the chair.

A movement in a dark corner caught my eye. I heard myself gasp and hated myself. There stood William Helm, shoulder propped negligently against one wall. One booted foot crossed the other in an attitude of repose. The hood of his cloak was thrown back, so that I could observe his face.

Humor danced in his denim-blue eyes as he silently observed my reaction to his being there with a lifted eyebrow. His hands hung loosely, thumbs hooked in the belt of his inner robe. They reminded me of two coiled springs, relaxed but ready to pounce at a second’s notice.

I won’t lie. That man scared me. His eyes were so deep with the secrets they held, I felt like shivering. After I saw the sword play he had done earlier today on the testing field, I knew I had every right to be scared of him. William Helm was a dangerous man.

“What’s he doing here?” I demanded.

“He is your bodyguard,” Dr. Spinner explained.

“I need a bodyguard?” I squeaked.

The three wizards stiffened. “William Helm,” Vorst said haughtily, “Has talents others only dream of. His honor is irreproachable. We trust him to guard your life with his own.”

“I can take care of myself,” I protested.

Before I could blink, cold steel came to rest against my neck. “Can you now, My Lady?” William Helm whispered near my ear.

I looked up. he was so close I could see where his nose had been broken at one time and healed crookedly. I could see the dark rings around the denim blue of the irises of his eyes. He glared down at me, oozing predator from every pore.

My heart threatened to leap out of my chest. I saw his gaze shift to my neck, where he watched the racing beat of my pulse for a second before he raised mocking eyes to mine. Though my heart betrayed my alarm from the sword at my neck, I was determined not to let him see any other sign of fear.

“Move that sword or use it,” I spat, returning his glare with one of my own. I had learned early on from my brothers to never show fear, no matter how terrified I was inside of William Helm.

“Sir Helm . . . “ Vorst warned.

In another move too fast to follow, William translocated back to his corner like he’d never stirred. He reclined against the wall once again, one boot resting against the other, a brooding look of negligence emanating from him.