Guardian by Heather Burch

It’s woven into you.” As he spoke, he moved so her back was to him. With one quick motion he stripped the blanket from her, leaving her feeling bare in spite of the sweats and T-shirt. A heartbeat later, Raven reached around her, holding the faith ball in front of them. “You can see it, right?”
    “Of course.” His arms were warm against her where they scraped her shoulders, creating a little harbor of safety against the night wind.
    “If you can see it, you can feel it. But you can’t feel it because you see it, or you’ve missed the whole point.”
    “Okay,” she said.
    “Put your hands on mine.”
    Nikki draped her arms over his and placed her hands on the outside of Raven’s. More warmth. More warning that this was a bad idea.
    “Now, close your eyes and tune in to the faith at your fingertips.”
    She did, and for the first time there was a fluttery sensation along her fingers. “Is that you moving?”
    “No. You feel the vibration of faith. Can you hear it?”
    The hum was louder and almost sounded in rhythm to her body, her heartbeat, her inhalations. “Yes.”
    “It’s becoming part of you.” But as she thought back on Mace’s instructions, it all started fading.
    “Don’t lose it,” Raven said, and slid his hands to the outside of hers.
    “I’m trying to hold on.”
    “You’re trying too hard. Forget what you’ve learned! It’s about the heart. You can’t learn it with head knowledge. It’s heart knowledge.”
    The hum returned, the sensation quickened. “Okay, it’s back.”
    “Now put your hands out and close your eyes.”
    Reluctant to let go of the ball, she released it on one side and held out a flattened hand, then repeated with the other.
    A slight movement, then Raven asked, “Which hand is it in?”
    She could feel the vibration and weight in her left hand. Her eyes opened. “My left!”
    “Close your eyes!” Raven demanded and placed the ball in her right. He repeated the action several more times, each correct answer building her faith a little more. “Now, toss it into the air.”
    Eyes still closed, Nikki obeyed. She felt the weight of the ball leave her hand for a few seconds, then smack. It was right back in her palm again. “I did it!”
    Raven’s smile was broad and genuine—her personal smile. “You did. Do it again.”
    This time Nikki left her eyes open and watched as the silvery-blue globe sailed into the air and dropped into her hand. “So, none of that stuff Mace was teaching me mattered?”
    Raven nodded toward the ball. “Did you learn it from him teaching you?”
    “No.”
    “Then it didn’t matter.”
    She tossed the ball again. “Thanks, Raven.”
    “Any time.”

    Raven didn’t fight the grin that stayed plastered on his face as he watched her walk to the door that led back to her cabin. Turn around, he urged. She reached for the door handle. But before slipping inside, she cast a long look over her shoulder.
    Oh yeah. His heart thumped.
    Her long, dark hair flew in all directions compliments of the wind. Gone were those shadowy, hollow places under her eyes that had been there since she’d gotten the news about her mom and dad. And there was a lightness to her, because tonight he’d given her something no one else—including Mace—was able to give her.
    “What are you doing?”
    Rarely did anyone sneak up on Raven. But he’d been preoccupied with Nikki and let his defenses down. He turned toward the voice but said nothing.
    Winter stepped out of the shadows to the right of the ship’s bow. Dressed in a long, flowing black garment, she resembled a gothic witch, especially with her dark, swirling hair and pale skin. “What are you doing, Raven?” She repeated the words softly, but there was a distinct bite to her tone.
    One he didn’t appreciate. “Not much. You?”
    She exhaled and looked back to the door Nikki’d disappeared behind. “That’s not fair and you know it.”
    “What?” She was really starting to irritate