The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series) by Alexandra Weiss Page B

Emeric’s eyes. He seemed calm again, his chest rising and falling in smooth measure.
                  “Emeric?” she asked.
                  He cleared his throat, regaining control. “That, Callista,” he said steadily, “was a budding enemy.”
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
    Recollection
     
                  “What, her ?” Calli e asked in horror.
                  She was sitting on the couch in what Callie now knew to be Emeric’s house. It was more extravagantly decorated than Shay’s; where Shay preferred minimalism and practicality, Emeric seemed to be a collector of fine things. The couch she sat on was made with red velvet. The dining table was built of dark cherry wood, gilded at the corners and along the legs with tasteful restraint. The portraits on the walls were what she could only assume to be original copies of great works, works by men named Apelles, Cimabue, and Van Eyck. She even recognized one of the paintings as being by Michelangelo; it was a picture of a woman holding a goose, the bird’s feathers appearing to grow out of her own flesh. Callie had stared at this painting for a moment too long. It seemed appropriate here, in this house, given its surroundings. Everything was luscious and indulgent, sparing no detail.
    Emeric nodded in response to her question from where he stood in the kitchen, and then walked over to the couch with two glasses of wine. He sat next to her, offering her one of the crystal goblets. She shook her head, wondering if he knew that she was only seventeen, or if he simply had no regard for the rules of her world.
                  “What do you mean, an enemy?” Callie asked, looking to Alex and Shay now. The blond woman had left soon after Callie had arrived. Shay sat across from the couch in a wide chair, while Alex sat on the windowsill, glancing occasionally into the forest. Each snap and pop of the fire that Emeric had lit startled Callie; night was an unfriendly time in this strange forest, especially now that there were enemies roaming around.
                  “They are named Sirens,” Shay explained, crossing her legs and leaning her chin against her palm. On second thought, Shay reached forwards and took the abandoned glass of wine, and then resettled into the chair.
                  “Sirens? Like, in the stories?” Callie asked. “What, they lure sailors to their deaths?”
                  Shay smirked across the dimly lit room. “Something like that,” she murmured.
                  The fire cracked again, and Callie jumped. Shadows moved across the walls, tongues of fire casting their dances upon the wooden panels. The deep mahogany colors in the room made everything seem a little eerie.
                  “But that girl was a Guardian,” Callie protested.
                  “Yes,” Emeric said.
                  “So why did you make her leave? And what is a Siren, really? I assume they’re not creatures from mythology,” Callie said, unable to help the bitterness that seeped into her voice.
                  Emeric sipped his wine and stood up, restless as the night grew long. He didn’t seem to have heard her question, if the way he paced back and forth across the room, apparently lost in thought, said anything about his mindset.
                  “Emeric,” she said, and he stopped pacing to look at her.
                  “Callista, there is much for you to learn here,” he said, his tone weary.
                  “Educate me, then,” she challenged leaning forwards.
                  With a sigh, he regained his seat and looked her in the eyes. “A Siren is a heartless beast,” he said. “She will break your neck as soon as look at you, and you won’t even see her coming. They have no respect for the lives of anyone not of their own kind,