GUARDIANS

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PRAISE FOR GUARDIANS:

“A fun, cute, adventure of a story full of magic and banter with a side of romance. If you’re looking for a fast-paced fantasy adventure book with believable teenage characters/dialogue, humor, solid sibling and family dynamics, and a blend of IRL and fantasy elements […], then this is the book for you!”

—E.L. Massey, author of the Breakaway series

“A fast-paced, action-packed, snarky-sweet YA adventure and a must-read for urban fantasy fans. This is the first book I’ve read by T. J. Baer, and I’ll be back for more.”

—Celia Breslin, author of the Black Hills Wolves series

“Body-snatchers, shadow organizations protecting the world, and an enemies-to-more through line make this LGBTQ+ story a very enjoyable read. If you enjoy LGBTQ+ fantasy with a strong cast of characters and a dash of humor to light up the dark, I highly recommend taking Guardians for a read.”

—Lisbeth Ivies, Reedsy Discovery review

“This book has so much to offer—stellar writing, snappy dialogue, a kick-ass plot, and characters so well-rounded, they practically walk off the page. The humor sprinkled generously throughout the story keeps the tone upbeat and gives us reason to hope for a happily ever after, even as the horrors escalate. There’s always a new twist to keep things interesting.”

—Kimberly Baer, author of The Haunted Purse
(and the author’s totally unbiased mother)

“Thoroughly gripping from start to finish, beautiful and wholesome and full of warmth and humour and queer people.”

​—Jay, Goodreads

“The perfect summer read, combining the ‘Us against the Monsters’ Stranger Things-type dynamic with Jim Butcher-esque dry wit.”

—Roku Kyu, Goodreads

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EXCERPT:

I parked my bike in front of the school and chained it up, even though I was pretty sure no one was going to steal a flowery pink and yellow bike from the dawn of freaking time. It was Mom’s old bike, which she’d kept in prime condition all these years so as to have an excellent reason to say “no” when I begged to be allowed to drive to school like everyone else in my class. “Why waste the gas when you can just take my old bike to school? It’s only a fifteen-minute bike ride.”

So while my fellow juniors zipped around in their or their parents’ cars, I was stuck pedaling along the side of the road, my hair trapped under an unflattering bike helmet and my mouth clamped shut to avoid inhaling bugs.

“Hey, Howard,” said a voice behind me.

I made a face and with great dignity removed my helmet and rearranged my hair. When I was satisfied I looked reasonably presentable, I turned.

“Belladonna,” I said.

Daisy Belladonna Rodriguez, stupidly named and an even bigger pain in the butt than my brother, stood on the sidewalk in front of the school, keys dangling from her fingers as if to make sure I knew she didn’t have to resort to pedal-power to get to school every morning. Her glossy black hair was perfectly styled and curled, framing an annoyingly pretty olive-skinned face that was all soft curves and expert touches of makeup. While I had the look of a fawn learning to walk, no matter how hard I trained, Belladonna looked like an athlete—the shoulders under her soft white sweater were broad, and I knew from covert glances in the locker room that her arms and legs were taut with wiry muscle.

And she was smirking at me. God, I hated that smirk.

“Did you want something?” I asked coolly.

“Obviously,” she said in her low, dry voice. “You don’t think I’d get this close to you unless I absolutely had to, do you?”

“Then spit it out so we can go back to ignoring each other.” I pulled a piece of gum out of my pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it into my mouth to avoid meeting her eyes. I promptly choked on my own spit and had to spend a moment hunched over hacking before I could breathe again.

When I’d blinked the tears from my eyes, I saw Belladonna was regarding me with what I chose to deem concern but which was more likely disdainful amusement.

“Well,” she said, arching one slender eyebrow. “Don’t you think we should talk?”

“Talk? Us?” I shuddered. “About what?”

“You know, danger on the horizon, dark creatures trying to enter our world— Any of this ringing a bell?”

I stared at her. “How do you know about that?”

“Did you hit your head or something? My mom’s head of the council. How do you think I know?”

“I know your mom’s head of the council. How could I not, when you mention it every five minutes? But you’re just a Guardian.”

“Yeah, and so are you, but your dad and your uncle tell you what’s going on, don’t they?”

“Fine,” I muttered because she was right, and I hated her even more when she was right. “The world might be in serious danger. I still don’t see what you and I have to talk about.”

“We’re Guardians,” she said, her face going suddenly serious. “If something bad is coming, we need to be ready to stop it.”

“Fine. Right. You’re right.” The words left just as nasty an aftertaste in my mouth as I’d expected, but I plowed on heroically. “What did you have in mind?”

“Meet me after school,” she said, and the smirk came blazing back. “My house, if you can handle pedaling up all those hills. We’ll talk then.”

And before I could say anything, she turned and headed for the front doors of the school, sliding a massive pair of headphones onto her head that had probably cost more than my mom’s car. I rolled my eyes and made sure my helmet was safely strapped to my bike, mostly just to give her time to get as far away as possible before I followed.

What had I done to deserve Belladonna? Seriously. 

***** 

I’d been thirteen when I first joined the Guardians. A minor fuss had been made over the fact that the usual recruitment age was fourteen, but given that my mom was a former Guardian, I’d been taking martial arts classes since I was four, and almost my entire family was entangled with the organization in some way or another, an exception had been made, and I’d joined up the day after my thirteenth birthday.

If anything, I’d wanted it to happen sooner. I’d spent every birthday between nine and twelve begging to be allowed into the ranks, until even Aggie had politely and kindly asked me to shut the hell up and be patient.

Mom had disapproved, because disapproving of things I wanted to do was at least three-fourths of her momly job description, but Dad had been 100 percent on board, and Uncle Lucas had been cautiously encouraging. He’d encouraged me to be cautious, in any case, and had reminded me ten or twenty times that not everyone is cut out to be a Guardian, and if I found it was too strenuous or dangerous for me, there was no shame in deciding to get a job on the research side of things instead, like he had.

But I’d known even then research wasn’t for me. I wanted to be on the front lines, kicking monster butts and keeping the world safe. That was what heroes did, right? And that was what I knew I was going to be: a hero.

That all changed on my first day of training, when fate and a particularly sadistic Guardian training instructor paired me with Belladonna.

I was tall and scrawny and full of energy, but Belladonna at age fourteen was already built like an irritatingly attractive brick house, and she had me on the floor within about two seconds of our first sparring match. Which would’ve been bad enough, but while she was wrenching my arm up behind my back and grinding my face into the mat, she’d hissed into my ear, “How’s it feel, Howard? To know that you’re not so special after all, and Mommy isn’t going to come save you?”

I’d snarled out that I didn’t need my mom to come save me and had used all of my strength in a heroic attempt to twist out of her grip and slam my foot into her face. All I managed to do, however, was dislocate my own shoulder and end up in a whimpering pile on the mat.

Belladonna had looked down at me with her perfect lips curling. “God, you’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

The trainer had apparently agreed, and I’d been sent off for medical treatment and a “reevaluation” of my fitness for Guardianhood. So, yeah, a less than stellar first day. I’d had to work my butt off to keep my position, and while I’d eventually managed to fully join the ranks of the Guardians, I’d still never beaten Belladonna in a sparring match, which was one of those things that crept up into a person’s consciousness at three AM and made interactions with Belladonna about a thousand times more irritating. She never said the words, but every time she smirked at me, I could hear a singsong chorus of, I’m better than you are, I’m better than you are. I sometimes wished the Guardians would get the memo and give us new counterparts, but for all that we hated each other, we unfortunately worked really well together in the field.

“Damn Belladonna,” I muttered, and realized, only as I heard my own voice, that I was sitting in fourth period, tapping my pencil with increasing force on the edge of my desk.

“Alisha,” Mr. Akhtar said wearily.

“Right,” I said. “Sorry. Paying attention now. Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” was the dry reply, and I forced myself to push away memories of the past in favor of focusing on Algebra. I was going to end up with a headache either way, so it might as well be for frowning over fractions rather than reliving my past failures.