The Keepers: Archer

His eyes narrowed at the taunt. “You don’t scare me, witch.”

“We’ll see how you feel when I turn you into a toad,” she said, keeping her tone light. His eyes widened, and she almost smiled at the brief flash of apprehension. Almost. It wouldn’t help to tell him that toad turning wasn’t her style. Instead, she swallowed her own unease, her mind racing for an escape route.

A rustling in the bushes had her whirling around and her heart sank when two more men stepped forward. Like her first attacker, they were both dressed in black and wore expressions of evil.

“Who are you?” she cried, her voice quivering at the realization that this was one fight she might not win. Not without some help. Two years ago, she had sworn off her powers for good and hadn’t tapped into them since. But the three men outnumbered her in more ways than she cared to admit, and no amount of traditional self-defence would save her.

They circled her like a pride of lions, and she swore she could hear them growling.

Insane. Maybe she was crazy after all.

She shook her head, choking on fear, but refusing to back down. She wouldn’t go down without a fight. And just like that, they attacked.

****

Archer Bennett had known an attack on Sienna was imminent. The darker world had been quiet for far too long and he’d been biding time until the moment hit.

But now that it had, fear curled in his gut like an unwelcome visitor. Adrenaline soared through him, triggering every protective Keeper instinct he possessed.

From his perch in the trees above them, Archer watched as the three men circled Sienna, rage bubbling inside him. They’d set up the perfect ambush – at the edge of the lake, void of spectators, overgrown with a wall of trees and bushes – and she’d run straight into their trap.

Her screech pierced the air and tore through him, and he readied himself to jump. Sienna fought on, kicking and punching, reaching for half-forgotten spells – determined not to back down.

Typical of a Beckham witch.

It was no good – the men were closing in. Archer pushed forward, flew through the air with the rapid speed of a Keeper, and landed on the ground below with a soft thud.

Not waiting to determine if they’d sensed his presence, he launched himself toward them.

The fight was uneven, but he drew on his heightened strength, power, and hatred for the men preying on the frightened woman.

Bodies entwined, fists connected with flesh, and blood-curdling growls filled the air. A cloud of dust surrounded them, muffling the visual impact of the fight.

With a swift movement and a possessive roar, he lunged for Sienna and placed himself in front of her as – exhausted and unseeing – she crumpled to the ground. The three men growled and snarled while he swiftly scanned the lake behind them. With a sense of calm that always came when he tapped into a sacred part of himself, a sacred part of her, he slowly raised his arms toward the lake.

Controlled and deliberate. He had a message to deliver, a witch to protect, and three men needing a lesson on the consequences of messing with a Beckham witch and her Keepers.

A soft trickle of water had all three men glancing behind them as understanding dawned. Clearly, from the horror that quickly twisted their expressions, they knew all about the Keeper with the power to manipulate water. Before they were able to react, the trickle quickly turned into a loud rumble of waves as the water rose up to form a solid wall. Archer moved his hands in circular motions and the water instantly split into three separate balls, each one tightly compacted together to form a lethal weapon.

Sienna’s first attacker jerked toward her, hoping to use her as leverage against the inevitable attack, but Archer was too quick for him.

A ball of water bulleted through the air and hit him on the back with a force that sent him reeling against the tree with a rumble of filthy curses. In swift succession, two more water missiles flew toward his accomplices, knocking them off their feet with ease.

With another swift motion of the arms, Archer readied the water with a fresh supply of lethal missiles and hovered, hoping the dark forces had had their fill of chilly lake water.

Drenched, panting, knowing when to admit defeat, the men fell silent and glared at him, their bodies heaving breathlessly with unleashed adrenaline. There was a pregnant pause as they sized him up, weighed their options.

“You can’t protect her forever,” said the first attacker.

“I will always protect her,” Archer told them, his voice level and unyielding.

“Then you will both die.”

Sensing defeat, and without waiting for a response, they rushed for the bushes and vanished.

Archer dropped his arms, the water crashing into the lake with a loud splutter, and immediately lurched forward. He sank to his knees beside Sienna, silently scanning her body to check for injuries – an action that came as naturally to him as breathing. She seemed confused, disorientated from the vicious slaps she’d received, and her tiny body trembled from the shock of the surprise attack. Seeing her like this fuelled his anger and hatred for the men responsible and something cold and steely wrapped itself around his heart.

They’d be back. He knew that with every instinct he possessed. Defeating them wouldn’t be a problem – the challenge would be convincing Sienna to accept his help.

“Are you okay?” he asked, fighting against the urge to pull her into his arms.

“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, scrambling away from him.

Her right hand shot out at the same time the excruciating pain shot through his head – a pain so powerful it threatened to cripple him. His head pounded from the vicious onslaught of heat channelled through her central power – fire. She’d done this before, damn her, and the pain had almost killed him.

A Beckham witch’s ultimate defence.

Eyes shut to ward off the pain and holding his head in agony, he sank to his knees with a guttural groan.

“Sienna,” he said between gritted teeth. “It’s me. It’s Archer.”

The mental violation and pain stopped the instant he said his name.

She gaped at him, shock unhinging her jaw. “Archer?”

“It’s me,” he repeated and struggled to his feet, still holding his head. Damn, she still had the power to fry his brain. He blinked, trying to clear the haze, and looked at her with a harsh frown. “Damn it, Sienna. What the hell was that for?”

“I thought you were trying to hurt me.” She rushed to him and cupped her hands over each of his. “I thought you were one of them.”

“Do I look like a bloody warlock’s minion?”

“I’m sorry. They rattled me, caught me off guard.” She fell silent and inhaled softly. “Archer, you’re here. You found me.”

“I’m your Keeper and I vowed the day you left that I’d find you.”

She didn’t reply and frowned when he grimaced. “Are you okay?”

Worry lined her features and her green eyes flashed with concern. She looked a mess, a complete contrast to her usual poised self. Her hair hung in a dull, dusty, tangled mess around her shoulders. Her right cheek, glowing and swollen, showed early signs of a bruise.

God, how he’d missed her. It had been so damn long.

Fire sparked deep in his gut as fresh anger washed over him. The two years he’d spent searching for her had almost driven him to the brink of madness. The constant worry, the daily longing, and the permanent reminders of her back home had been torture. Torn between the urge to hug her and throttle her, a quick nod was all he could manage.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, tugging his hands away from his head.

“Promise me you’ll never try that voodoo mind fry on me ever again.”

“It’s the quickest defence I have against you, Archer.”