Guardians of the Akasha by Celia Stander Read Free Book Online Page B

step closer to her.
    “Keira, darling, are you in here?” Cylvia called from the staircase, interrupting whatever he was going to say.
    “Oh damn, my mother!” Keira whispered, desperately looking around for a place to hide.
    “In here, quick!” He took her arm and pulled her towards a walk-in closet. He pushed her inside and shut the door behind them. The narrow room overflowed with Cylvia’s designer outfits. Ball gowns, fur coats, and suits were crammed into every space.
    On the other side of the door, Cylvia was talking to herself. “I was sure I heard voices up here,” she murmured. “Hmm, where did I put that face powder.”
    Keira stood frozen, listening to her mother rummaging through drawers. She stood with her back against a rail full of dresses; Marco still had his hand on her arm.
    She wanted to hiss at him to move away, but didn’t dare make a sound with her mother standing outside the door. She had to be satisfied with crossing her arms and scowling silently.
    He slowly bent forward and whispered in her ear, “Am I annoying you?”
    His warm breath caused delicious tingles to run up and down her spine. She bit on her lip and tried very hard to blank him out.
    She was getting angrier by the second, with herself and, even more so, with Marco.
    What the hell is going on with you, Keira? Two days ago you nearly killed a man for touching you, and here you are acting like a—a—hormonal idiot , a prim Keira voice scolded.
    This is so completely different —, a dreamy Keira voice answered.
    Oh, this is just great. Now I’ve got multiple personality disorder , Keira thought and clamped down on the voices.
    Glaring at Marco, her eyes caught on a small scar that started in the corner of his mouth and ran down into the cleft of his chin. His was a face used to the elements; his slightly crooked nose had obviously survived a brawl or two. His dark hair was cut short, no need for expensive hair gel there, and very different from the young men Keira was used to with their soft white skins and artfully done hair.
    Just then, Keira heard Cylvia leave the room. She shoved Marco back and fled. She only stopped long enough at the top of the staircase to pull herself together and watch her mother walk through the patio doors to the marquee outside. Once collected, she followed at a more sedate pace.
    Back at the table, Victoria eyed Keira’s flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair and interrogated her as soon as she sat down.
    “Are you all right?”
    “Yes, thanks, Aunt Vic—a slight headache, that’s all.”
    “Hmm,” Victoria took a sip of her champagne, then changed the subject. “You haven’t told me yet, how are your charming friends, Sammy and Alison?”
    “They are fine, thanks,” Keira replied and took a gulp of water. She didn’t want to tell her aunt she was staying in the city by herself.
    “Good. So you’ve got a couple more weeks free until you have to decide what you’re going to do about your future?”
    “Yes. I—we’re just hanging around, you know, enjoying the free time,” Keira answered.
    “Good,” Victoria said again. She had a knowing glint in her eyes that made Keira feel oddly paranoid.
    At that moment, Marco entered the tent and took his seat next to Keira. She tensed, turned her back to him and started a stilted conversation with an old, hard-of-hearing gentleman on her other side.
    Keira spent the rest of that long, miserable afternoon smiling politely at stories of new babies, new marriages, divorces, and deaths. At one point she thought if she had to hear about one more bloody birth epic, or another long-suffering deathbed saga, she would lose her mind. Scolding herself for being insensitive and inconsiderate didn’t help at all.
    She tried her damnedest to avoid all the curious, sometimes well-meaning and sometimes not, questions about her plans for the future, her love-life or the lack thereof. Unfortunately she couldn’t escape her cousin, Giselle, who stopped by