Page 21 of The Chosen Two

Whatever I expected George’s bachelor pad to look like, this is not it. We turn down a perfect treelined street and stop at a huge iron gate with stone lions on either side. He types a code into a little key pad sticking up from the ground, and the gate swings open. Further down the driveway, we approach what I can only describe as a castle. Its rectangular blocks of stone in shades of red and gray loom ahead. My jaw drops.

“What is that?”

“That’s…headquarters.” He slides the gear shift into park.

“George… I have a very serious question.” He turns to look at me and once our eyes are locked, I ask, “Are you Batman?”

His laugh is deep and rich, from his chest. He pulls his face into a serious expression and drops his voice an octave or two. “No, Miranda. I promise. You’re the only superhero in this relationship.”

I swallow hard as his clear blue eyes lock on mine.

He’s young enough to be your son, Miranda… Keep it together.

He clears his throat to break the awkward silence. “Seriously though, this property has been in my mom’s family for years. It’s not some docent estate or anything. Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up!” He slaps his knees for emphasis and gets out of the car. When he comes to my door and opens it, he looks at me cocooned in my contractor bag and thinks out loud, “What are we going to do with you…” Then he snaps his fingers as an idea hits him.

I do not like the smirk on his lips.

***

Ten minutes later, I’m still wrapped in plastic and cursing him out as I lie on the floor of one of his guest bathrooms while he gets the shower ready and goes to find some clothes that can replace the ones I need to throw away.

I cannot believe he carried me here in this garbage bag. How could he possibly be so strong? I must be twice his size! And I didn’t even get a good view of the inside of the house because he threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I can at least say the house does have beautiful old oak hardwood floors though. But still! I let out a primal scream.

He calls to me from another room. “I wasn’t going to let you drip minotaur blood all over my house.”

“Once again, the blood…your fault!” I quiet down as a terrifying thought hits me. “Wait, am I going to be covered in blood often now?”

He comes back in with a stack of fluffy towels and clean clothes, a ponderous look on his face. “That’s a good question. I want to say no? There will be lots of times you don’t need to kill anyone, and even when you do, it won’t always need to be so…yeah. Gross.”

“George, did it need to be so gross this time? Was there another way I should have gone about killing that thing? Ornotkilling it?”

“Probably. I have so many books we’ll read, together. We’ll get it all figured out next time. I don’t know the right way to handle every situation. I’ve spent the last three years studyingyou. I haven’t really had time to research the rest. I guess I’ve been thinking you’d just know about everything on your own when the time came. But today was about your instincts, about proving to you that this is who you are meant to be.”

I nod. “I get that. Thank you for showing me what I am capable of. Never in a million years would I have expected that I could save myself with my mad tickle skills.” I pause to let this moment hold its space. But I still have shit to do, so I don’t pause too long before I continue. “Hey George, can you get me out of this garbage bag now?”

“Oh, shit. Yes! On it.” He takes a pocket knife and cuts the bag free in one smooth motion, then helps me to my feet. He looks at me for a minute until I raise my eyebrows. When he realizes I still need to undress and get in the shower, a blush reddens his cheeks, and he stumbles over his words as he rushes out the door.

I smile to myself and lock it. Right, onward then. I strip my clothes, standing on the cut open bag, and then wrap them in it in such a way that there is no exposed blood to make a mess. Then I get in the hot shower and make the water hotter. After seeing this “house,” I’m sure his hot water tank is big enough to accommodate. The shower is too big to both lean against the wall and stay under the water, so I collapse in a heap in the middle of the floor. The hot water washes away not only the blood of the minotaur but also the sins of my prior life. It’s baptizing me, the new Guardian.

Now I know I can do this.

Now I know I will do this.

Now I know who I am.

And I’m all in.

As soon as I can get myself up and off this floor.

Chapter 8

George

Iamthoroughlyimpressedwith Miranda. She was actually able to kill the minotaur…I put in a maze with her. I know her success that shouldn’t surprise me; she is a Guardian after all. But it did surprise me. I was really worried about her. I still am, actually. As she showers, I am afraid of what is going through her head and how she is going to react to those thoughts.

All docents worry about their charges; it comes with the territory. But no other docent has ever been in my position, with a Guardian like Miranda. I’m struggling to wrap my head around how many lives with be destroyed if something happens to her. Miranda has kids, a family, something no other Guardian in history has had the privilege, or lifespan, of experiencing. Those four kids need her. Her husband needs her too. Even her friends need her; she has seriously meaningful relationships with those women. Women who would miss her, and mourn her, and though I’m certain they would step in to help Jake with those four little humans…I can’t go there.

The thing that has always struck me about Miranda, the thing that helped me realize she could not only succeed as the Guardian, but would absolutely kick ass as long as she believed in herself, is knowing she built this life full of love and connection out of the ashes of her past. She escaped; from her parents, from that house, from that life where she was made to believe she was unworthy of love. When she left, there was no safety net. If she failed, her options would have been to return, defeated, to the beasts who remained inside her childhood home, or a life doing Gods knows what on the streets. But when Miranda sets her mind to something, there is no option to fail. She would never accept that. So she succeeded, with quite a lot of grit and determination, to build a life filled with everything she had never known; safety, comfort, support, love. That woman’s ability to love with so much of herself, unconditionally, and without having had an example of how that could be done, is a superpower all on its own. I can’t help but feel she is meant for more than even this.

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