Angel's Guardian: A Contemporary Vampire Romance (16 page)

CHAPTER
31

Max was never so grateful for the short winter day in his life. He was striding thorough Kennedy Airport, ticket in hand. The west coast was three hours earlier than the east. It was now 6pm where Angel lived, the sun already down, having set less than an hour ago there. His expected arrival time for LA was 4am, New York time. It would be 1am local time. That would give him until sunrise, to reach Angel’s house.

His terrible mistake could prove fatal, and it tore his heart to consider the possible consequences. At the yacht, he acted with little thought, driven by fear, fury and hatred, not clear thinking. He killed Pretto when he should have kept him alive a little longer and forced him to call off his goons. Max knew his powerful emotions had controlled him, not clear logic.

Once he landed, provided the plane stayed on schedule, he would have five and a half hours of racing at vampire speed over the landscape to reach her home. Then what? He’d be trapped in the house until sunset. At least, Nina would be able to let him in. His sense of helplessness and frustration was threatening to undo him. He wanted to pound walls and tear throats.

He knew he must calm down. So far, each time he allowed his emotions to rule, he made bad decisions. His self image was definitely flawed. In truth, he was just now beginning to see how impulsive and explosive he was, almost childish. He desperately hoped that Angel would not pay the price.

Now, he needed to trust in her ingenuity and courage. She’d managed to outrun her enemies for years, and she knew their methods well. His girl was smart, strong, a survivor. He must have faith that she’d hold off those enemies at the gate until he got there. Then, he’d destroy them all.

******

Angel tried to watch where she stepped, going by the dim glow of her cell phone flash light. Woods were full of dangerous things. True that it was already setting to winter, and most animals would be seeking warmth in burrows and tree stumps, but anything stepped on was bound to be startled and bite. It was dark and she was far from being an outdoors person.

As if to underscore her thoughts, she stepped on a pebble and her ankle twisted under her, and she went down hard, rolling down a steep slope and hitting her head hard on an exposed tree root.

She tried to brace herself up into a sitting position, but the slippery cover of dead leaves and soft ground made it difficult. Her wrenched ankle screamed with pain, and her eyes watered in response. She sat there nursing her pain and misery, desperate to find her way back to her children, but totally turned around in the dark and now possibly hobbled.

What’s wrong?
The voice sounded dim, far way, but it was unmistakably her vampire.
Answer me! What’s wrong?  I feel your pain.

Max? Is that you? How am I hearing you?

The blood-bond. The closer I get to you, the stronger the link. What happened? Why are you in pain?

I fell. Twisted my ankle in the dark and rolled into the root of a tree.

Where are you?

In the woods outside my neighborhood. In the dark. I’m lost and scared.

But you’re alive and free. If you can hang on a few more hours, I’ll be there before sunrise. Can you do that?

Yes, I think I can.

Are the kids all right?

Max,  I don’t know. I hid them in the dog house with the neighbors’ dog. My plan was to double back when night fell and hide us quietly in the house until you came. But now I’m turned around in the dark, and my ankle is wrenched and I can’t find my way back. Max, I’m so scared for my babies.
 

Angel sobbed, and he could feel her misery and fear. It tore his heart in two, and his frustration at not being able to help her drove him mad.

My love, don’t be scared. Everything depends on you being brave and staying out of your enemy’s hands. I’ll be there soon, I swear it. Pretto is dead. I killed him for you. He can never touch you again. Once I take care of the ones after you, you’re free. Just a little longer. Have faith. I’m on my way.

Max was running at supernatural speed, his feet moving so fast, the soles of his running shoes were hot and, by the time he arrived, would be worn down and useless. He followed the highway, nighttime and his ability to zip into the neighboring trees and landscape making him invisible to the few cars he’d pass along his trek. But even vampires have their limits, and soon he’d have to stop and feed at some desolate rest area.

******

Angel limped and hobbled away from the  flashlights bobbing in the dark. She heard muffled voices and saw the lights low and sweeping as the men moved. Her own cell phone gave barely enough glow to show her three feet in front of her. She struggled to climb over a fallen tree trunk the girth of a fat man, and she landed painfully on her twisted ankle, going down hard on her face.

Something scurried out from under the tree, and she scrambled away in fear. Her phone had fallen out of her hand as she fell, and she looked around desperately for it. She found it and hugged it close to her chest, so happy that it was not broken or lost.

To her left, she saw a glint of light.  They were flanking her. She had only one direction to go, and that was forward, away from them. They were like dogs driving the fox forward. She was smart enough to know that they were herding her. She stood up and began her painful, forward hobbling again. At least, the constant effort was keeping her from getting cold.

Unable to hobble up a slope, she crawled her way up, leaving clear, tale-tell tracks. She had no choice. Now, it was just blind, terror-filled flight.

Angel, what’s going on? Answer me! 

Max, they’re closing in. They have me flanked and are driving me forward.

How far behind are they?

I can’t really tell in the dark. I can see the flashes from their flashlights once in a while.

Can you tell in what direction they’re herding you?

No, I can’t. I lost my bearings hours ago.

Can you climb a tree and hide?

I’ve never climbed a tree in my life. Besides, my ankle won’t let me.  I need to concentrate. Just hurry, please.

All right, Angel. Call to me when you need me. I’m speeding to you, love.

She caught a glint of lights through the trees, street lights and driveway lights. They were herding her back to town, probably back the way she had come. They would have men waiting for her. If she could cross unseen, move roundabout a few blocks, keeping to the darkest shadows, and come in from the back of her house, she’d be able to sneak back in and grab the kids. The kitchen door was open.

She knew the methods of these men well. They would have searched the inside of the house first thing. They would post look-outs a block or two away just to see if anyone approached. She could sneak in coming from the back, get the kids, and then climb into the very shallow attic. There was barely stooping room, but enough to hide in.

She moved forward with renewed hope, the lights in the distance calling with the promise of safety. She fell several times, was scratched and tripped by roots and saplings, and often terrified by the scurryings and slitherings of night creatures in the dark. The screechings of  owls and other sundry birds in the trees often startled her. Did birds not all fly south as winter approached? Not all, obviously.

Another fear was coyotes. They had multiplied in all the American wooded areas, ranging freely and fearlessly within the towns themselves as they foraged for food. Hunting in groups, they would easily attack and kill a human, especially a small, injured one like her.

Her clothes were torn, filthy, and wet. As she got closer to the town, the cover of forest got thinner and the night’s cold breeze began to be felt. She shivered as the sweat cooled on her skin and the wet clothes stuck to her.  She was beginning to lose body heat; soon, she would not be able to still the shivering. Her babes at least were dry and snug with Charlie to keep them warm.

She reached the edge of the woods and headed for the creek, careful to gauge the final slope that gave way to it.  She could not cross it in the dark without falling in and getting drenched. She looked at the town lights and tried to decide whether to follow the creek left or right. She hobbled left, following the creek’s flow, hoping that the ford she had crossed was in that direction.

Fifteen minutes later, she had not found it, but she now knew more or less where she was when she caught a glimpse of the town’s Catholic church tower, which remained lighted all night and was easily identified. Up ahead loomed a dark, low structure over the creek. Angel’s heart soared. She hobbled faster to reach it. It was a low, wooden bridge that spanned the creek.

Looking around her, fearful that hidden dark figures would jump out at her, she hurried across the little bridge and into the shelter of the nearest shadow, a bunch of empty metal drums huddled at the edge of the black back alley. In the distance, maybe a quarter mile upstream from the creek, a flashlight scanned the water’s edge.

Angel took off at a fast hobble, her breath coming in fast puffs, her body shaking from the cold that was now setting into her firmly. She evaded any lighted areas and kept to the deep shadows. Keeping the church tower on her right, she moved as fast as she could, always watching for any sign of a car or someone watching as she crossed at the darkest points in the streets, even if it meant going way out of her way.

As she made her way, dogs often bayed, and she knew the chorus of baying and barking animals would give her away. But she also knew her hunters would themselves be hobbled by the same limitation. Dogs barked at everything. Occasionally, a light would go up in a house, and someone would peer out a window, but Angel was quick to still and hide in the shadows.

She was four blocks past the church. She turned right at the next street and began the slow track to the intersection where she would pick up the street that flanked her house. A block before, she would have to start cutting through backyards again. She felt more optimistic. She was no more than minutes from her home and her kids, and sunrise could not be far off.

She took her time, careful not to make the slightest noise. Her night vision was excellent, having been sharpened by her stint in the dark forest. She carefully scanned the backyard for a dog house that would signal the presence of a dog. Seeing none, she placed both hands firmly on the top of the link fence and jumped to brace herself. She was careful to land on her good foot.

The next house had a wooden fence, taller but also stronger. Finally, she reached the home right behind hers. As she jumped over to her own backyard, Charlie came out barking.

“Shh, boy,” she whispered. “It’s me.” She opened her jacket and wafted it so he could identify her by smell. He quickly shook his tail and came to sniff her. She ruffled his head and hurried to the dog house, getting on her pained knees to stick her head in. “Nina?” she whispered.

“Mommie,” answered a sleepy voice.

“Your brother?”

“He’s sleeping. He likes sleeping with Charlie. It keeps him warm.”

“Oh, baby. I missed you.”

“Is Max here?”

“No, but he’s coming. He spoke to me and he’s not too far. Now, I will need you to stay here just a little longer. I have to check inside the house and make sure it’s safe for you to go in. It will just be a few minutes. OK?”

“Yes,  Mommie. It’s nice and comfy here, anyway.”

As soon as Angel stood up, Charlie went back into his house.

CHAPTER
32

Angel found the back door unlocked, as she’d left it. She turned the handle slowly, silently, and stepped into the kitchen, closing the door behind her, her tiny gun in hand. She took a moment to close her eyes, waited, then she opened them. The darkness became a little lighter, and she could see much better.

She walked slowly. At the kitchen window, she lowered the shades and then pulled the curtains closed. From the counter, she picked up a glass and as quietly as she could, she poured herself a glass of water. She had not had a drink in hours and desperately needed it.

She moved from room to room, checking that shades and curtains facing out to the streets were closed and no light would spill in or out. Living with Max had trained her. The shades in the house were all light-shuttering, and the curtains were all lined with insulating material providing plenty of privacy.

Making as little noise as possible, she made her way up the stairs, her gun always in front of her. There, she opened the drapes to the window that faced the back of the house, allowing her to look down on the dog house. A small amount of light came in, and she could move easily without danger of tripping.

She checked all the closets, every bathroom, every nook. She did not expect to find her enemies in a closet. That was not their style. They were daring, dauntless, brazen. They would have been sitting in her parlor, watching TV.

She went to her bathroom and relieved herself. She shed all her wet, dirty, torn outer wear and washed her face and hands with warm water. Her ankle was swollen, but it would have to wait for a good icing. She pulled a bandage from her medical emergencies kit and bound it as tightly as she could.

From her closet, she pulled out a new pair of jeans and sweater. After dressing, she pulled out her scrunchy and quickly brushed the twigs out of her hair. Finally, she reclaimed the small gun from her discarded pile of clothing. Satisfied that everything was as she’d expected, she made her way back to the stairs, intending to bring her babies back into the house.

“Welcome home, Angel.” As the man spoke, a bright light was trained on her face from the first floor landing.  Angel’s heart stuttered, fear flooding her body, and by reflex, her hand pointed the gun at the light and fired once, twice, three times. From behind her, a powerful hand grabbed her shooting arm and another took her around the neck in a choke hold, lifting her off her feet.

Kicking, scratching, fighting for her life, she found herself dragged back up the stairs to her bedroom. She was slammed against the wall, and her throbbing ankle gave way under her as she slid down to the floor.

“She fucking killed Joey. The bitch whore killed Joey.” One of two men came into the room, spewing venom at her, his eyes furious. The one standing over her, kicked her hard in the ribs. Angel gasped in pain. In her mind, Max screamed in panic, begging to know what was going on.

They’re here, in the house. I killed one, but they got me.

Hang on, baby. I’m almost there. Where are the kids?

Still hiding in the dog house.

Good. That’s good. They won’t kill you. Pretto ordered that you be brought to him alive. He wanted to punish you. As long as they don’t know he’s dead, they’ll keep you alive. Whatever they do, you stay alive. You hear me?

Yes, I understand.

“You fucking bitch,” yelled the one that kicked her. “I say kill the fucking whore and deliver the body.”

“No,” said Sausage Fingers, entering the room with two other men. “We don’t cross the boss. He wants her delivered alive. In what condition, he don’t give a shit. We can have fun, boys. We can have lots of fun. She’s a whore, trained in special arts for the benefit of special clients. Why, I think we are special clients. We deserve it after the miserable night spent out chasing the bitch.”

The man who’d kicked her bent and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her ruthlessly, dragging her and throwing her on the bed. They all moved to surround her, like sharks circling human prey in the water.

At once, they all started ripping at her clothes, one of them dragging her sweater over her head and throwing it away from her. Two others pulled at the zipper and peeled her jeans from her. In seconds, her underwear had been ripped off her body, and strong, cruel hands held her hands and ankles apart. Angel lay vulnerable,  exposed, terrified.

Mr. Sausage Fingers stood smirking and pulling his zipper down his pants. “You’re gonna like this special client, baby.” The other men laughed at his crudeness. “This special client likes the back door, bitch.” He leered at her meaningfully.

He grabbed her by the throbbing ankle and pulled her down to the edge of the bed. The pain shot up her leg, and she screamed.  She kicked with her good leg, getting him good on the groin. In his blind rage, he punched her hard several times, stopping only when blood poured from her nose, staining his hands.

“Now I have to fucking wash my hands before I get blood on my designer shirt.” He looked around and made for the bathroom door. One of his companions took his place on top of  Angel, his shirt off, his pants down over his hips, his penis hard and ready.

“I don’t mind a little blood,” he said. “And you kick me bitch, and I promise you’ll lose all your teeth.”

Angel felt Max pounding at her thoughts, desperate to know her situation, but she kept her mind closed to him. There was no way she would let him see what was about to happen. She turned her head so the blood flowing from her nose could drain, and she’d not choke on it.

She felt the man pull up on her knees trying to get the best position for his entry. Her  sight trained on the window where the outside showed lighter than her surroundings.  Something moved at the window, and for a second, Angel thought she was hallucinating. Then, a face stared at her through the glass.

It could not be Max. He was still far from her, desperately pounding at her thoughts.  Yet, the face was familiar. She’d seen that face, those pale eyes, that white hair, the fixed smirk. She’d seen it at the window the day she’d been hanging the drapes in Max’s room. Oh, God, she was surrounded by enemies and demons!

“Invite us in.” He’d whispered it, but she’d heard it clearly. Us. There were more. His eyes bore into hers, almost hypnotically beautiful, definitely beguiling. Angel knew, without being told, what she had to do.

“Come in, come in!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Oh, I’m coming in, bitch,” the man on top of her replied with a smirk on his face, ready to plunge into her body.

In the blink of an eye, the window exploded, shattered glass flying in all directions. Angel’s hands flew to cover her face, and as the man about to rape her was catapulted into the air, she turned on her belly, protecting her body.

In a whirlwind of motion and violence, the vampires moved among the  men, so inhumanly fast that not one gun fired a shot. Across Angel’s vision, a long arc of blood drops seemed to hover in slow motion, to rain in surrealistic garish color, falling a measured scarlet rain across her arm.

One tall, lanky vampire picked up the man who had kicked Angel in the ribs, and slamming him down over his knee, broke his back. When two of the men tried to run out through the bedroom door, another vamp grabbed both men by their jackets and threw them back in the room, slamming the door shut.  

The one man who’d stood ready to rape her, now stood  pinned to the wall, his legs kicking in the air, as the vampire with the light eyes and white hair ripped into his neck and drank freely from him. When he’d had enough, he turned to the others and said in a heavy accent, “Spicy with a hint of cinnamon. Quite good, actually. Have a drink, cousins. It may be a while before we have an opportunity to feed again.” The others fell like ravenous wolves on the rapist.

Angel crawled out from the bed, pulling the cover to wrap around herself. She made herself as small as possible as she crouched in a corner, hoping they would not notice her. Around her, the devastation was total. They’d destroyed the men Pretto sent in a matter of seconds. Soon they’d turn on her.

And they did. All three vampires, tall, pale, beautiful, and bloody came to stand over her. The one with the very light, long hair crouched in front of her, his eyes glowing.

“So, you’re Maxim’s human.” He sniffed the air, the smell of her blood interesting him. “Very nice. Maxim always had good taste.” In the dark room, she could clearly see his pale face and white fangs as he smiled. “Call him, tell him we are here.”

Angel’s voice trembled as she asked “Who is here? Who are you?”

“I’m so sorry. I have been rude not to introduce myself and my companions. We are family. I’m Maxim’s cousin Luca, and with me are my brothers, Emil and Aurel.”

“Did Toma send you?”

“Toma? Maxim told you about him?”

“Yes. He tells me everything,” she lied. “I’m important to him.”

The vampire looked at her thoughtfully. “No, I’m not Toma’s man. I was sent by our uncle. Call my cousin. Tell him you’re safe and we are here.”

******

Max was going insane. She had shut him out. He knew she was in trouble. He feared that he was keeping her from concentrating, maybe putting her survival at risk, but his worry and desperation were driving him crazy and although the miles separating them were dwindling by the second, he feared he would not get to her on time.

He had shed his running shoes, the soles melted and useless. He now ran barefooted and without his coat, which he’d also discarded miles ago. The heat he generated running was plenty. Earlier, at a desolate farm he’d passed, he fed. For the first time in years, he fed the way his people normally did, without killing, using the glamour.  

Now, moments away from Angel, he feared the worst. He knew she was not dead because the blood-bond was stronger than ever, but he feared what may be happening to her. She’d closed her thoughts to him, and that was not good. How she’d done that, he did not know, but Angel was smarter than most and good at figuring things out.

Max, they’re here!
Her voice rang loud and clear. His heart soared with joy.

I’m almost there. Two or three minutes, no more
. His voice sounded so close.

The vampires are here. Your family
, she answered.

She’s surrounded by enemies, mine and hers!
Maxim flashed by the town’s welcome sign, a murderous rage in his heart, his mind intent on destruction. He would tear them all limb from limb and bathe in their blood. In his murderous bent, he cut his thoughts from Angel, afraid to terrify her more than she was already.