Page 2 of Custodian

Goddess? What the fuck?One shared look with his knights and he knew they were thinking along the same lines he was; the woman may be beautiful but she was clearly deranged. He felt his hungry body, yearning for distraction, begin to wane with the realisation.

“So what? Deranged is much more fun between the sheets,”Tobias, the ingrate of the group, commented in his typically brash fashion.

Mordecai snorted at that,“Are you seriously suggesting I bed this woman when our society is on the brink of collapse and nature is spinning out of balance?”

He felt Tobias’s mental shrug through the Order bond,“What can you really do from here? We’re on the first ship across the Channel in the morning, then the first flight from London to Australia after that. The flight alone will take almost forty hours with all those stops. It will be three days before we’re even within the minimal distance it will take for you to start actively repairing the tears in the fabric of the earth from all the slaughter. Not to mention the tears in the souls. Why not take some solace where you can?”

Mordecai shook his head but was unable to deny the interest his body was taking in the ethereal beauty in front of him. He wasn’t one for using women – or men for that matter. But he couldn’t deny the desperation he was feeling to know something other than the gut-wrenching pain, still trying its hardest to suffocate him as he as sat there.

“Well?” The stunning creature in front of him inquired.

“Well, what?” he managed to stutter out.

“Goddess?” A red brow arched perfectly as she both prompted him and seemed to pose a question.

He was silent for a second, gauging the sincerity of the female’s words before he bent over and laughed so hard he thought he may actually rupture something. It seemed that alcohol was still well and truly in his system. “Goddess, huh? Delusions of grandeur much?” He said when he was finally able to speak.

She merely smiled, “On the contrary. You asked – rather forcefully – to speak with the Great Mother. Well, here I am.”

“Here you are,” he repeated. “Here she is,” he pointed out to his four paladins who were still standing close by and watching him with a mix of pity, sadness, and humour. They too thought the woman was crazy but their nudging still showed their support of him taking some time with her.

Mordecai allowed his eyes to rove over the short woman in the forest-green robe, over what looked to be a simple dress of brown. Her red hair contrasted outrageously with the green and he felt his fingers flex with the need to gather it against his palms and test its softness. There was no denying she would prove to be a happy distraction for a few hours. Feeling like a selfish prick, for isn’t that what he had called the Great Mother a few moments ago? Selfish? He rose to his feet and promptly felt his head give a sickening spin as he struggled valiantly not to throw up on his shoes.Damn Heinrich and his homemade liquor!

“Would you like some extra vitality, Sir?”Bastien asked, ever so helpful.

Mordecai felt himself grumble, “Will you get out of my head? If I’m going to wallow in a warm body instead of the bottom of a bottle, then I’d like some privacy ... if you please,”he gritted his teeth in his mind, feeling amusement but also assent as the link was muted practically to nothing. He knew his paladins wouldn’t venture too far – either physically or mentally. But they would heed his request for privacy. They strived to allow each other as much of that as possible even within the confines and intimacy of the bond.

“Okay, Goddess. How would you like to do this?” He asked, pulling himself to his full height of six-foot-five.

Interesting irises roamed over his frame from head to toe and though he knew he was physically fit and imposing, he felt as though she found him lacking in some way. And why that made him feel like shrivelling up, he had no clue. Why should a stranger’s opinion of him matter? The woman was about to have sex with a stranger, out of wedlock. A big no-no in their current time. But go back a few centuries and it had been commonplace. Mordecai suspected it would change yet again in another few years. It was the cycle of the world. If anyone understood life-cycles, it was him – a keeper of death.

“And who said I was going to lay with you, warrior?” That husky voice held amusement and seemed to read his thoughts.

“Ah ... forgive me, what did you have in mind, then?” He asked, politely. See, he could be polite if he needed to be.

“I thought perhaps we could talk. You seemed to have much to say just moments ago,” she pointed out.

Talk? The crazy lady wanted to talk? Mordecai felt his interest waning but managed to hold onto his automatic sharp retort. What did he have to lose? He was stuck in post-genocidal Germany, half drunk on illegal spirits while his fellow wardens turned on each other and tore each other apart a half a world away. “Shall we sit?” he gestured to the grimy table behind him.

She sat gracefully, looking like a polished jewel in the midst of a shit pile and he wondered again how such a rare beauty could be in such an establishment in the first place. “Drink?” he offered, indicating to the remaining full jar on the table

She scrunched up her nose, looking rather adorable, “No. Thank you.” She cleared her throat, making eye contact, “It sounded as if you were having a crisis of faith,” she then prompted.

“A crisis of faith?” He scoffed, “I guess you could call it that. Empty figureheads tend to do that to me.”

Red eyebrows arched perfectly over wide, blue-grey eyes, “I assume you are referring to the Goddess you spoke of. You are disappointed in her.”

“‘The Goddess,’“ he quoted. “I thought you would have me believe that was you.”

“And I thought you would have me believe it isn’t. Or rather, that you do not want it to be,” came her prompt reply.

He eyed her for a moment, taking in her sincere yet stoic countenance. The woman was clearly not mentally sound. But if she was not going to offer her body as solace as he had originally assumed, then perhaps she could act as a surrogate for his true anger and he could still gain some sort of catharsis from the encounter.

“Alright. Goddess ...” he tipped his head in deference in her direction, earning a nod in return.

“Where would you like to start?” she demurred.

“With the senseless slaughter of your children,” he ground out.

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