The New Guardian

A Visit from the Past

When my shift ended in the early morning, I gathered up my personal belongings and used the old punch clock to punch out. Bossman could never seem to figure out why I used the old system, I figured I would rather get paid than fight a computer.

As I stepped outside, I could only glare at the light mist descending from the sky. The bike was thoroughly wet, so I stowed my stuff in the saddlebag and kicked the bike to warm it up. Seven kicks and one tired leg later, it stuttered to life. I waved at Joey, who seemed to enjoy my suffering from his truck, to let him know I was good, before I began to put my gear on.

The ride home was cold, wet, but rather pleasant, since there was little traffic in the city at this time. It really doesn't take long before a person gets used to a wet ass, but getting off the bike after getting it back in the shed, it becomes a realization. Not even bothering to take my gear off, just grabbing my bag from the saddlebag, I went inside and up the stairs, pulling my helmet off as I walked.

As I opened the door, the scene before me put me into such a state of shock that I dropped my helmet. Now, I've had fantasizes of Rose, my ex-girlfriend from years ago, but not one like this. There she stood, middle of my little apartment with one of my t-shirts and a smile. Her dark brunette hair hunt down heavily over her chest, but it didn't cover the fact the shirt was too big and had slid off her shoulder. That smile could melt steel and it's full power was focused on me.

As the helmet rolled on the floor at my feet, she began to approach me. "Oh... Devlin... How you haven't changed..." She said. Her accent hadn't changed a single bit either, still that hard Irish brogue that I grew up with. But she definitely grew up since I last saw her. Legs that looked as smooth as silk yet stronger enough to do some serious damage, a sway in her hips as she walked that spoke volumes of her confidence and self esteem, the stretch of the logo on the shirt caught my attention but not nearly as much as her eyes did. Brilliant emeralds flashing as she blinked, an uptick of her mouth gave it away that she knew the hook was set. "I was hoping this address was still right from when I found it."

"Uhm... Rose... What are you doing here?" I asked, heart beginning to pound in my chest. "How did you get in?"  I asked, probably sounding rather dim.

"Magic, of course. You're wards are basic, you really need more training..." She began to sway closer, "I could always tutor you again..." She said, her voice dropping low, seductive. She knelt down infront of me, grabbed the helmet, stood and swayed away. "Don't stare too hard, shirt might catch fire..."

Positively dumbstruck, I remained stationary as she walked away. It wasn't until she shut the bedroom door, my bedroom door, that I snapped out of it. Walking in, I could smell that heavy perfume. It invaded every sense, commanded attention and resurrected long forgotten memories.  It had been atleast seven years since I had last seen Rose, the failed attempt at evasion of our instructor, the evil bastard. The memory came back, unfolding as if it just happened.

Quiet whispers echoed down the long hallways, James and John spoke hurriedly. Tonight was the night, we had to make a break. Rose and myself walked up, each dressed in black and carrying what few possessions we owned, sporting bruises from the most recent round of 'education.' We all knew the wards would alert him the moment we broke them and it would be a race. The four of us took three steps back, James and John lowered their shoulders and burst through the double doors, sending shards of glass every where and like that, the race was on.