Guardian's Hope (23 page)

“Is that where you’re from? The Professor
says you probably speak several languages and your accent is a
combination of them all.”

“Do you often discuss me with Broadbent?”

“I don’t seek him out. We talk about a lot of
things.”

They paused while the waiter poured a taste
of their wine in Nico’s glass. When Nico sniffed, tasted and
nodded, the waiter filled their glasses. Nico lifted his glass in a
toast.

“To lips that touch wine,” he said with a
smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“May they always touch mine.” Hope lifted her
glass and blew a kiss across the table.

“Touché.” He watched Hope take a sip and
smiled fully at her look of surprise.

“Why doesn’t Grace’s wine taste like
this?”

“Perhaps because Grace thinks aged means how
long the box has been sitting in the refrigerator.”

“So tell me how you know good wine from
bad.”

“I will, as soon as you tell me how often you
discuss me with Broadbent.”

This was a question she’d rather not answer.
Broadbent had several theories about ‘our man of mystery’, and he
only revealed them to Hope because he knew how she felt. Nico
wouldn’t be pleased. Rather than lie, she changed direction.

“You never tell me anything.”

“You’ve never asked.”

“I have and you give half answers or change
the subject. You did it a few minutes ago. Are you from Bulgaria?
Do you speak several languages?” She tried reaching into his
mind.

“No. Yes.” He was goading her and he knew it,
but he loved the flash of fire it brought to her eyes and when she
puckered her mouth in frustration, he only wanted to kiss her all
the more.

“I’m not falling for that smoky, smoldery
thing you do with your eyes,” she said. She could almost feel him
pealing the clothes from her body. His images of love making made
her body warm and her juices begin to flow. “Stop it,” she hissed.
“You’re going to embarrass me.” She took a sip of wine.

“I keep my thoughts to myself.” Nico taped
his forehead. “If little girls are going to snoop, they can’t
complain about what they find.”

She took another sip. “I’m not a little
girl.”

“I know.” He ran his tongue slowly across his
upper lip and sent her a very clear image of where he wanted that
tongue to be.

The waiter brought their food. Nico took her
wineglass from her and brought it to his lips. He leered at her
over the rim. She almost squeaked at the images he presented in her
mind. This was different. Before, the images were no more than
flashes. These were slower with way too much detail. She held her
hand over her heart to slow her breathing.

The waiter asked if he could bring them
anything else. Without taking his eyes from Hope’s, Nico waved his
hand in polite dismissal and with a knowing smile, the waiter
withdrew.

“How are you doing this?” she whispered.

Nico’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m
not doing anything, precious. You are. I can feel you dancing in my
mind. You’re getting stronger. See if you can send something
back.”

She closed her eyes and conjured up some
images of her own and smiled when Nico’s laugh turned into a
groan.

“Turn it off, precious, or these gentle folks
are going to get a lot more than dinner.” His eyes were beginning
to glow.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. She
could almost hear the click that turned the images off. She took a
deep breath and opened her eyes.

“Do you think it’s because…?”

“You’re no longer a virgin.”

“Shhh. Someone might hear.” Though he spoke
the word in a whisper, she was sure the whole room would hear. Her
face flamed.

“Are you ashamed of losing it or ashamed of
who you lost it to?” His smile was gone.

“Oh, Nico, never. You’re the best thing that
ever happened to me and I mean that with all my heart. I’ll shout
it to the world if you ask me to, but some words will always make
me cringe. Where I’m from, words like that are treated the same way
as the four letter ones you’re all so fond of. They aren’t
mentioned. The only time I ever heard that word spoken was in
reference to Mary, Mother of God and only at Christmas. I’m sorry,
old habits die hard.”

Nico reached across the table to take her
hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m the one who should be
ashamed. It’s those old habits that attracted me from the first.
Your virtues, like your name, give me hope. I…”

He was interrupted by a small commotion
across the room. A man with flowing white hair reminiscent of a
lion’s mane strode into the room, voice raised and hands waving. He
was followed by a few soberly dressed men with self-important airs
who obviously served as his entourage. This group was followed by a
second; three couples, two of whom seemed ill at ease with their
host’s flamboyance.

Hope’s hand turned icy in his. Her eyes were
wide and her face pale as she stared at the man with the flowing
mane. When Nico spoke, she pulled her hand away.

“What is it, Hope? What’s wrong?”

She slowly raised her shawl over her hunched
shoulders and with one hand held it closed about her throat. Her
free hand disappeared beneath the table where she pulled at the hem
of her dress.

Nico watched her transform from the
beautiful, vibrant woman he loved into a cowering shadow of a
nervous and frightened girl. As if under a descending veil of
gloom, her lustrous hair became dull and her face took on a grayish
cast. Even her slinky black dress that had clung to her womanly
curves now hung like a sack from her shoulders. She clenched her
eyes shut and her voice shook.

“It’s him,” she whispered.

She didn’t have to say more.

Chapter 23

Her father raised his hands and addressed the
room. “Let us all give thanks for the bounteous repast we are about
to receive.”

Some diners stared. Some bowed their
heads.

Hope began to shake and Nico snarled.

“Most heavenly Father…” the preacher intoned
and began a grace that was both lengthy and loud.

A light tremor shook their table. The
silverware began to tremble and the water sloshed in the glasses.
The candle wobbled in its crystal globe until the melted wax
extinguished the flame.

Nico reached across and gripped Hope’s
shoulder as unobtrusively as he could. He wanted her attention and
none from the other diners. He whispered her name and when he got
no response, he said it again. He dug his fingers into her shoulder
and called her as loud as he dared.

“Hope. Don’t let him do this to you. You need
to get control of it. Open your mind to me,” he commanded. He saw
her eyes flicker behind her lids. “Look at me, precious, only me.
See me. Concentrate on my mind and nothing else. You’re stronger,
now. You know you are. And like you said, I’ve got you’re
back.”

He felt the slight tingle in his head that
said she was with him. He thought about how she explained what she
saw.
I want you to love me, my precious. I need you to love me
as no one ever has. Please.
He repeated it over and over in his
mind praying that she would see him and believe.

The veil of shadow began to lift. Her dress
once more showed off her luscious curves. Her face and lips took
back their color. Her hair brightened, the red highlighted by
candleflame.

The silverware stopped trembling and the
water settled in the glasses. The hand that had been clutching the
shawl moved to the hand gripping her shoulder. She wound her
fingers through his and let out a long, slow, breath. At last, she
opened her eyes.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Nico’s voice was
filled with both love and anger. “I won’t let him. You’re mine, do
you hear me? You’re mine and what is mine I defend. Don’t let him
do this to you, precious. Don’t give him that power. Fight back.”
He brought her hand from her shoulder to his lips.

Hope closed her eyes again, this time on a
sigh of relief. Her reaction to her father was a habit that needed
to be broken. She was no longer friendless or defenseless. The
members of the House of Guardians were more of a family to her than
he had ever been. Nico loved her, cherished her for who she was,
not for who he thought she ought to be.

The preacher was winding down. “We ask you
for the strength to drive away the temptations of the flesh and the
courage to seek out those who have fallen from the path to cleanse
them of their unholy afflictions. In Your Name we pray. Amen.”

Parsons’ eyes slid around the room gauging
the crowd’s reaction. They lingered for a moment on Hope and she
met them squarely without flinching. His piercing eyes narrowed
with contempt. She boldly faced him down. With a slight shake of
his head, his gaze passed along to the next table. Some answered
his look with a nod of solidarity. Others ignored him. Only when
he’d completed his visual circle of the room did he take his seat
with the others of his party.

“I don’t think he recognized me,” Hope
whispered in amazement. “I was sure he’d chastise me publicly,
denounce me to these strangers as a child of the devil, my mother’s
child, a witch. I was certain he’d name me for a thief and a
harlot.”

“You’re none of those things.”

“In his eyes I’m all of those things.” She
lifted her wine glass in a silent toast to another of her recently
acquired vices. “I am my mother’s child, a Daughter of Man, a
witch. I stole money each week from the sale of our eggs until I
thought I had enough to run away.” She winked at Nico to show she
had no regrets. “I gave myself to a man who isn’t my husband. Oh
yes, Nico, in the eyes of the Reverend Samuel Parris Parsons, I’m
all of those things.”

“You said the hens and eggs were yours. That
isn’t stealing.”

“The hens were mine to care for, not to own.
Nothing was mine, Nico. All of it belongs to my father. I never had
a dime to call my own. I had to ask his permission before I
purchased anything for myself; clothing, shoes, personal items. I
can recite his lecture on the virtues of thrift by heart.”

“What about your salary as a teacher?”

“I wasn’t paid. I didn’t need it. My father
provided for me. The woman who taught the older children was a
widow and sole support of her aging mother and the teacher I
replaced needed money for her dowry to set up housekeeping. I told
you she got married.”

“Who administered the school’s funds?” Nico
asked slowly. His voice was quiet yet there was an edge to it that
made Hope cringe.

“My father and a school committee.”

Nico’s lip curled. “You didn’t steal from
him, Hope. He stole from you and I’d like to have a word with that
committee. Did they know what he was doing? Were they a party to
it?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“It was,” he whispered fiercely. “You taught
all week for nothing. You kept his house, kept his garden, kept his
fucking chickens and he gave you nothing? That’s how you treat a
slave, Hope, not a daughter.” He looked over at the table where her
father held court and his eyes flickered gold. “I’ll kill him.” She
saw the image in his mind.

“Nico. Stop it. He lives by what he believes
and like you said, he has no power over me unless I give it to him.
And I won’t. I promise I won’t.” She tried to lighten Nico’s mood.
“Besides, he’s a human. Isn’t there some rule about killing
them?”

“I’ve broken the rules before,” he muttered
and more clearly, “Tell me how he’s different from the creatures I
hunt, because the only difference I see is the speed with which
they suck the life blood from their victims.”

“Nico, please. I almost let this ruin our
night. Don’t you pick up where I left off. Let’s ignore him. Tell
me more about your life. How did you come to be in Burgas?”

But the mood was broken. Her father’s too
hearty laugh or his booming voice rang through the room each time
they began to talk. Hope cringed each time she heard his voice and
Nico’s knuckles whitened as he fisted his hands in anger.

“Maybe we should just go home,” she sighed
after the fourth interruption. Other diners seemed to be cutting
their evenings short as well.

“Do you want to go back to the city?” Nico
asked. He signaled the waiter for the check.

“No, not really. Everything is so new.” Her
color rose. “Between us I mean. I was hoping for a few days to
adjust before we had to face the House.”

“Is it such a terrible adjustment?” he asked
quietly.

“Of course not,” she laughed. “It’s anything
but terrible, only it’s new and it’s ours and I don’t want to share
it with anyone just yet.” The smile dimmed and she shook her head.
“I’m being selfish. This trip isn’t about me, is it? We’ve done
what we came to do and you’re probably on the schedule for patrol.
We ought to get back.”

“You’re not being selfish. I’m not on the
schedule and if we get back early, Grace will be disappointed.”

“I doubt it. She’s been impatient for my
powers to bloom. She wants to see what I can do.”

“She knows what you can do. She’s anxious for
you to see it. She wants you to have this time, Hope. She booked
the room through the weekend.”

Their waiter brought the tab in a discreet
leather folder and Nico motioned him to wait while he removed a
number of bills from his wallet.

“No change necessary,” Nico said as he handed
back the folder. When the waiter was gone, he arose from the table
and offered his hand to Hope. After assisting in the arrangement of
her shawl, he placed his hand at the small of her back and directed
her toward the exit.

“We can find another place to stay,” he said
casually.

They had to pass her father’s table and Hope
was grateful for the calm hand at her back. She opened her mind to
Nico and saw his need to support her and his fierce desire to
protect. He hadn’t liked the subservient slump of her shoulders or
bow of her head. She thought she heard him speak in her mind and
her eyes widened.