17. Max
17
MAX
M ax walked into Kian's old office in the keep, pulled out a chair, and sat down at the conference table. The room smelled faintly of furniture polish and coffee—Okidu's work. Kian's butler had arrived earlier to prepare the office, and he'd left the space spotless and well-stocked with refreshments.
When Onegus had explained to him why Kian was bringing Ell-rom to the dungeon, Max finally understood things that hadn't made sense to him before. First, he'd wondered why so many humans had been brought to the keep instead of being disposed of. It wasn't as if they could learn much from them. Then Onegus had instructed several Guardians to go over the human prisoners' recent memories and write down what they had seen.
The evidence was damning, the scope of their crimes defying comprehension, and since it had been confirmed by several Guardians, it was indisputable. Now that Max knew what Ell-rom was about to do, it all made sense.
The prince was not a hardened warrior, and killing for sport was not something that was up his alley. He had an amazing ability to kill with a mere thought, but he needed to test it, and for that, he needed victims who deserved killing without a shadow of a doubt.
The talent was enviable and useful, and Max found it odd that it had been bestowed on someone as squeamish about killing as the prince. And yet, the Fates' guiding hand and the many blessings they had showered upon the clan over the past few years were hard to deny, so the prince might still have an important role to play in the grand tapestry of the clan's destiny.
The sound of four sets of footsteps in the corridor announced the arrival of Kian, Ell-rom, Anandur, and Brundar.
As Max rose to his feet to greet them, Kian entered with Ell-rom at his side and the brothers behind them.
"Good afternoon," Max said. "The coffee is freshly brewed, and Okidu left some refreshments."
"Maybe later." Kian turned to the prince. "This is Max, the other Guardian who's going to accompany you and Jasmine to her father's cabin tomorrow."
Max extended his hand. "It's my pleasure, Your Majesty."
The prince grimaced. "Please, call me Ell-rom." He shook Max's hand firmly.
"Very well. It's a pleasure to officially meet you, Ell-rom."
The prince's expression didn't change. He still looked like there was something sour in his mouth. Jasmine must have told her mate about her displeasure at meeting Max on the cruise, and he couldn't really blame her. His behavior had been inexcusable.
"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Kian said. "I need to speak with Onegus." He gestured to Anandur and Brundar, who followed him out of the office.
Great. Now, he was stuck with the guy who could kill with a thought and who had no reason to be nice to him.
The silence that fell was deafening.
Ell-rom stood near the door, his discomfort evident in every line of his body, and Max had a feeling that it was not just about the prince's animosity toward him. The guy was about to do something that would have been difficult for most anyone, let alone a civilian who'd been raised to be a cleric.
"If you have any questions for me, now is probably a good time," Max offered, expecting questions about his history with Jasmine and preparing to apologize and explain.
"Tell me a little about yourself." The prince's request surprised him. "Who are you when you're not being a Guardian?"
Max blinked. "I..." He moved to the coffee service Okidu had left, more to give his hands something to do than from real thirst. "Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, please."
As Max poured two cups, he gathered his thoughts. "Right now, I don't have much of a life outside the force, but it wasn't always like that. I've done a lot of things during my five hundred and twenty-three years of life, but my first job was on the force. I joined a little over five hundred years ago and served for seventy-two years before retiring."
Ell-rom accepted the coffee. "What did you do after you retired?"
Max smiled. "Believe it or not, I was a stage actor for a while. I even joined the opera, but I never got any leading roles, so I moved on."
"An actor and an opera singer?" Ell-rom's cool demeanor cracked slightly. "That's unexpected. It would seem that you have more in common with my Jasmine than either of you realize."
"I know. I heard her singing at the wedding and then at Rob's induction ceremony. She's amazing."
Ell-rom beamed with pride. "She's extraordinary." He took a sip from his coffee. "What did you do after you gave up on acting and singing?"
"I built homes. For most of my life, I was a stonemason." Max pulled out a chair for Ell-rom and one for himself. "There's something deeply satisfying about building things, creating something permanent and beautiful that brings utility and joy to others." He paused, cradling the paper cup between his palms. "Sometimes, I miss it. The simplicity, the camaraderie with other builders, the satisfaction of creating something that lasts. It's very different from what we do now."
"Rescuing trafficking victims?"
Max nodded. "That's more fulfilling in many ways, but it's very taxing mentally. The things we see, the evil we encounter—it rubs off on you after a while." He studied Ell-rom's face. "I've lived for a long time and seen a lot of crap. But it's all new to you. You are still soft."
Ell-rom seemed taken aback by Max's straight talk, probably not expecting a lowly Guardian to talk to him so plainly. "I guess I am. Were you ever soft? Or were you born tough?"
Max laughed. "We are all born soft, or at least most of us are. Time and experiences harden us, hone us. Warriors are like swords. They start soft and malleable, but with repeated strikes of the hammer, we become sharp and deadly."
Ell-rom nodded. "I like the analogy. I can think of a sword as something beautiful, not just as an instrument of death."
"I'm glad I could help." Max leaned back in the chair. "Those monsters deserve killing, Ell-rom. Don't feel sorry for them. Think of them as cancer cells and of yourself as the medication that eradicates them. If you leave them alone, they will kill the organism. You are necessary to saving it."
The prince smiled. "This one is not as good. Anyone can kill, which means that there is nothing special about my kind of medicine."
Max chuckled. "Regrettably, I don't have any smarter analogies. I wanted to impress you with how deep of a thinker I can be, but the truth is that I'm a simple guy."
"I doubt that's true." Ell-rom was quiet for a moment, staring into his coffee. "Why did you come back to the Guardian Force?" he asked finally. "Why return to this darkness?"
"Because I was needed and also because I had to get out of Scotland, and joining the force here seemed like a good idea."
"What happened in Scotland?" Ell-rom asked.
"I made a mistake. One that cost me a friendship." Max sighed, the old guilt rising. "I betrayed someone who was like a brother to me because of a woman. I wasn't young so I don't have the excuse of youth. But I was competitive, always had to win. I didn't realize—or maybe I didn't want to realize—that Din was in love with Fenella. I just saw it as a challenge."
"I assume you won?" Ell-rom's tone was neutral.
"I got the girl, lost my friend, and learned too late what really mattered." Max shook his head. "It happened fifty years ago, and Din still won't speak to me. Not that I blame him. Moving here was partly about escaping that constant reminder of my inexcusable mistake."
Ell-rom didn't look surprised by the revelation. "I was told that the woman looked a lot like Jasmine."
Max frowned. "Did Kian tell you about that?"
"Jasmine did. Amanda told her not to get upset over the way you reacted to her and explained why. Not that I accept it. I think it was immature of you, and given that you have lived centuries longer than I have and have vastly more life experience, you should know that."
Max met Ell-rom's gaze directly. "You are absolutely right. It was unfair and unprofessional of me. Jasmine didn't do anything to deserve the cold shoulder I gave her, and I should have apologized a long time ago."
"It's never too late, and you will discover that Jasmine does not hold grudges. She will forgive you easily." Ell-rom smiled. "I imagine carrying that guilt for fifty years is its own kind of punishment. You really should let it go. Your friend should have forgiven you a long time ago, and the fact that he didn't indicates that he might not have been as good of a friend as you thought he was."
"You know what? You are right." Max shook his head. "The training you got seems to have made you a good counselor. Have you thought about combining your occasional death-ray service with consulting? It could provide you with a professional balance."
Ell-rom gaped at him, looking unsure if Max had been serious or had meant it as a joke.
"I'm serious, Ell-rom. One does not preclude the other. We have only one counselor in the clan, and she is overworked because she takes care of the trafficking victims we rescue. Your services would be in high demand."
The prince shook his head. "I know so little of Earth's customs. How can I give advice to earthlings?"
"You just gave me excellent advice. You might want to take a couple of online classes first, or maybe more than that, but hey, you're immortal, so there is no rush."
"True." Ell-rom lifted the paper cup to his lips.
Max had hoped the prince would be cheered up by their talk, but he still seemed pained.
"These men chose their path," Max said. "They knew what they were doing was wrong. They knew that they were destroying these children, and they didn't care and did it anyway. By stopping them, you're saving countless others."
"I know." Ell-rom's voice was barely above a whisper. "It shouldn't be as hard as it is. I guess I need some of that hammering you mentioned before I turn into a sharp blade."