Guardian's Hope (2 page)

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Authors: Jacqueline Rhoades

Tags: #vampires, #paranormal, #love story, #supernatural, #witches, #vampire romance, #pnr, #roamance

BOOK: Guardian's Hope
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Nico sat in his favored place, a high backed
wing chair to the left of the fireplace with a clear view of the
door. His finger ran absently over the page of the book he’d been
trying to read for the last fifteen minutes and his eyes strayed to
the mantle intricately carved with lilies and the House crest.

The athame stood on its point, held in place
by Col’s handiwork; a delicately carved wooden stand. The dagger’s
ivory handle, yellowed with age and carved with ancient runes, and
its finely honed silver blade called to him. The tool, meant for
the rituals of magic, had almost turned the young Guardian trainee
into a vampire just a few short weeks ago when Col had followed two
demons and a witch to a little house on Pearl Street. Manon, Otto’s
beloved, assured them the athame had never before been used for
evil and Nico believed her, for every time he held the piece, he
felt an electric tingle through his blood that sang to him. The
feeling was addictive and his hand itched to hold the thing again,
but he restrained himself. Impulsive behavior wasn’t something he
approved of or indulged in.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed nine
and the aroma of something sweet and fresh from the oven wafted
through the open door. Nico gave himself a mental shake and went to
the kitchen where, as usual, the rest of the House was gathered. It
was a huge room, brightly lit and completely modern with stainless
steel appliances and granite countertops, running almost the full
width of the house. Grace, their Liege Lord’s mate, also served as
cook and kept the house smelling of good things to eat.

She was currently baking cookies, deftly
sliding the delicacies from the metal sheet onto the brown paper
that covered a portion of the counter. She used her spatula to take
a playful swipe at Nardo, their newest Guardian, when he tried to
sneak a cookie from the paper.

“Touch those cookies before I get them on a
plate, buddy, and I’ll whack those fingers right off your hand.”
She grabbed a second tray, already loaded with balls of raw cookie
dough, opened the oven, removed another sheet loaded with baked
cookies and replaced it with the raw.

While her hands were full, Nardo reached
around her and grabbed a handful of hot cookies. He popped one in
his mouth and tossed two to Canaan before Grace could grab her
weapon. Only the quick reflexes of his kind saved Nico’s shirt from
the fourth chocolate missile directed at his chest. He caught the
flying cookie and used it to salute the cook who stamped her
foot.

“Grrr,” she huffed, but she was on the verge
of laughter when she turned to Canaan. “You’re as bad as they are.
You’re their Liege Lord. You’re supposed to set the example. I
thought you guys would have a civilizing effect on the twins.
Instead…” She threw up her hands in mock disgust. Canaan took the
opportunity to kiss her with a resounding smack on the lips. She
was laughing outright when she pushed him away and licked the
cookie crumbs from her lips. “You’re all a bunch of…”

“Barbarians,” Broadbent finished for her. He
was the oldest of the trainees and had only recently found his
calling. His penchant for lecturing, tweed jackets and pipe all led
to his nickname of Professor. He sat waiting patiently for his
cookies with a small plate, teacup and saucer, and Earl Grey tea
steeping in the teapot under its cozy. “In my humble opinion, your
hopes of civilizing the twins will prove fruitless. Where are the
charming chimps? The smell of food generally brings them
running.”

“Out partying, where else? Since they got
those bikes, there’s no stopping them.” Nardo brushed crumbs from
his vintage Green River t-shirt and followed the trail down to his
worn jeans artfully shredded along one thigh. He picked up another
cookie, this time from the serving plate, a huge yellow smiley face
that sat at the edge of the six-foot square center island.

“They haven’t been home for three days. What
could they be doing?” Grace put the cookie sheets in the sink and
began to wash.

“Go ahead, Professor. Explain what the boys
are up to.” Nardo pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.
The snort came from Canaan.

“I hardly think carousing in disreputable
saloons in pursuit of loose women for purely prurient reasons needs
explanation.” Broadbent refreshed his tea.

The men laughed. Grace shook her head and
laughed with them. “I know what they’re doing, but three days?”

“Strength and stamina, Grace, strength and
stamina. We’re loaded with it.” Nardo popped another cookie.

Canaan put his arm around his mate’s
shoulders. “You’re right. They really should come home.”

Nardo put up his hands. “Don’t look at me.
I’m on patrol with you tonight and we really should get going.”

All eyes went to Broadbent. “Oh please, I
wouldn’t have the faintest idea where to begin. Additionally, I
need to finish packing if I’m to make my flight.” He sighed deeply.
“The summons of the pater familias must be answered, I suppose, but
I’m not looking forward to his stern lectures or the anguished
tears of my mother over my choice to become a Guardian of the Race.
It would be so much easier if I had the skull and tears to prove I
was beyond their influence.”

“I’ve said you’re ready. All you have to do
is ask,” Canaan said seriously. He was the Liege Lord of this House
of Guardians and it was he who decided when a trainee was ready for
the mystical ceremony that would bring them fully into their
powers.

“I know, but it seems a bit cowardly, not to
mention unethical, to ask now. Flashing the skull and tears as a
way of telling my father to stuff it doesn’t seem to be an
appropriate motive. When I return, we’ll talk.”

Canaan nodded and turned to Nico, standing
with his ankles crossed and his hips resting against the counter.
“About the twins, I don’t suppose…?”

One side of Nico’s mouth curled up in a
sardonic smile. “I’ll go, but if I find them and they won’t come
willingly, I won’t guarantee their physical wellbeing.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Canaan.

“Thank you,” said Grace with a grateful
smile. “I know I shouldn’t worry. They’re grown men. Still…”

“You worry,” Nico said. It was one of the
traits that made the woman so endearing. She was so open with her
love and her worry for them all. He felt a small pang of envy
toward his Liege Lord and it startled him. He never sought or
expected happiness in his own life, what reason would he have to be
envious of those who had it in theirs?

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Hope paced the sidewalk across the street
from Bloodsucker’s for a half hour before she gathered enough nerve
to enter. Seeing the people wandering in and out of the place had
shaken her more than the building itself. Pale faces, elaborate
make-up and black leather seemed to be the fashion choice. Men
dressed in tuxedoes with black capes swirling around them escorted
women in slinky black dresses with spidery hems and flowing
sleeves. Other men were dressed in black leather trousers with
silky black shirts open to their waist or vests studded with metal
and looped with chains matching the jewelry that studded their
bodies. She saw a woman wearing leather straps and little else, the
straps barely covering her most private parts. The woman strode
down the sidewalk in heels that had to be six inches high. It
amazed her that most of the women in their skimpy clothing weren’t
wearing coats, preferring to freeze on this January night rather
than cover their costumes and body art.

Her wool coat, calf-length skirt, and bulky
knit sweater looked as out of place here as any of these people
would look in her father’s church. Even if she purchased a whole
new wardrobe of modern, worldly women’s wear, she would still look
out of place at Bloodsucker’s. She took a deep breath and
straightened her shoulders. Out of place or not, this was the next
place on her list and enter it she would.

When the state outlawed cigarette smoking in
restaurants and bars, the owners of Bloodsuckers compensated by
burning copious amounts of incense. Their purpose was twofold. The
burning incense created the same pre-ban dim and smoke filled
atmosphere and the mix of spicy scents covered the smell produced
by those surreptitiously smoking substances other than tobacco.

She wrinkled her nose at the acrid mix of
smells and the smoky haze made her eyes tear. She stood in the
doorway for a moment until her eyes stopped watering and her nose
adjusted.

Compared to the few other places she’d been
on her nightly visits, this place was the creepiest. At least it
was medium sized and all on one floor. Booths and tables ringed the
crowded dance floor where bodies writhed under flashing lights that
seemed to stop motion. The music, which wasn’t music to Hope’s
ears, throbbed and pounded. A bar ran along one wall and she
searched the line of stools for a vacancy. According to Lenny,
bartenders remembered faces.

Heads turned as she moved toward the back.
She felt her cheeks redden and kept her eyes cast down. She was
halfway along when a man left his seat at the bar to sit with a
party at a table and Hope slipped into his place before anyone
could object. The man to her left turned his head and smiled. He
had fangs! She stole a quick look around the room. Good Gracious,
almost everyone had fangs. Some were obviously plastic, but some
looked very real.

“Never been to a Vamp bar before, huh?” the
man asked.

“No. I can’t say that I have.” Something in
the man’s look made her nervous.

“Why don’t I show you around?”

“I think I can see it all from here. Thank
you.” She turned away and looked for the bartender who was taking
his time polishing the other end of the bar. When he finally
reached her, he stared at her without greeting.

“Uh, I’ll have a coffee, please.” Hope spoke
hesitantly. The bartenders at the other places had all been
polite.

“This is a bar, lady. If you want a cup of
coffee, there’s a diner up the street.” He continued to stare.

“Um, well, no tea either I suppose?”

“Iced tea.”

“Oh, that would be fine.”

The bartender nodded and walked away. She had
the picture ready and shoved it across the bar when he
returned.

“I’m looking for this woman. Have you seen
her?”

The bartender’s eyes never left her face.
“No.”

“Please,” Hope begged. “I need to find her.
This picture’s a few years old. She’s probably changed a lot since
it was taken, but if you’ll just look, you might recognize her.”
She sipped her tea and waited.

The bartender’s eyes dropped to the picture
and something flashed across his face but it was gone before she
was sure it was there. He looked up with the same blank stare.
“No.”

“I need two apple martinis, a margarita rocks
and a house white. Whatcha got there, honey?” A waitress standing
behind her reached over to pass her empty tray to the bartender and
picked up the picture. “You looking for her?” the woman asked and
when Hope nodded, “She doesn’t look like she belongs here, does
she? ‘Course you don’t either so you never know, do you? You gonna
be here for a while? I could ask the other girls.” She looked up at
the glaring bartender and curled her lip. “Don’t get your shorts in
a twist. I won’t bug the customers and I won’t stop the girls from
doing the job. You got those drinks yet? ‘Cause I’m waiting here.”
She looked back at Hope and smiled. “Can you wait? Won’t do to piss
off Prince Charming there. It may take a while.”

“Yes. I can wait as long as you need me
to.”

When the bartender returned with the tray of
drinks, the waitress curled her lip again. “Get her another tea and
don’t be givin’ her a hard time,” and in an aside to Hope, “As long
as you keep ordering, he can’t throw you out.”

The tea was tasty, darker and more flavorful
than the tea they made at home. She liked it. Mindful of the
waitress’ warning, when the second glass was empty, she ordered a
third.

“What kind of tea is this?” she asked when
the bartender brought her the refill.

He looked at her as if she was stupid. “Long
Island,” he said and walked away.

By the time she finished the third glass, she
needed to visit the ladies room. She slid from the stool, lost her
balance and landed in the arms of a black caped, pale faced
vampire.

“Ah, the lady wants to dance,” he cried and
pulled her out onto the floor.

She tried to push away from him and had them
both lurching into another couple. She tried to right herself but
her balance was off. Her legs wouldn’t move in the direction she
sent them. The room began to spin. Someone grabbed her and just as
quickly pushed her away. Everyone was laughing and she couldn’t
catch her breath. Hands were touching her everywhere and she
started to cry.

*****

Nico was not happy. Playing search and rescue
for a couple of fledglings that didn’t know enough to come home was
not his idea of a night off. He normally enjoyed a night out and
bars or lounges were open in the middle of the night when most
other forms of entertainment were closed. However, his idea of a
relaxing evening was the polar opposite of the twins. He’d checked
their normal hangouts starting with the two rock venues and moving
on to two country western bars complete with mechanical bulls. The
heavy metal place had made him snarl and while he easily understood
the words of the rappers at the next place, he didn’t understand
its meaning and didn’t really care. Bloodsucker’s was in a class by
itself.

There was probably a vampire bar in every
major city in the world and like this one, a few smaller cities as
well. Humans found vampires fascinating and some carried that
fascination to extremes. For most, it was play acting, but for some
it was more. They drank real blood or sharpened their teeth to
unattractive points. They thought the life glamorous. Reality was
different.

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