Guardian's Hope (40 page)

The phone buzzed as he was taking a corner
and he almost pushed it off the seat in his haste to answer. His
heart almost burst with relief when he saw the ID and fell to the
pit of his stomach when a stranger’s voice answered him.

“Thank God, you idiot woman.”

“Moncore? Sir?”

Otto looked at the phone as if it had
sprouted eight legs.

“Who the hell is this and where’s Manon?
You’re a dead man if you touch a hair on her head.” He couldn’t
take on a demon anymore, but this voice was human and he could
still kick the shit out of one of those.

“No, no. I’m a friend or er… Joseph, her
driver. She told me to go home, but I can’t. I’m afraid for her and
the other ladies. I can’t leave her, Moncore, but I don’t know what
to do to help.”

“Where’d you get this number?” Otto asked
with continued suspicion.

“I used the speed dial she used when she
called you every hour or so. I thought we were following a cheating
husband and you were her brother or something. But when we saw that
thing at the other house… Moncore, she’s one helluva lady.”

“Stop calling me my heart. The name’s Otto.
Where are you? Give me an address.”

His door was open before he threw the shift
into park and he left the car running while he ran into the house.
He cut off Canaan’s rant with a snarl.

“Fuck the attitude, Liege Lord. We don’t have
time. They’re over on Kasouth Street. Got a guy who’ll flag us
down.”

He didn’t wait for questions.

*****

Hope placed both hands on the chest of the
demon/man who answered the door and pushed him back into the entry
hall. He was so startled by her aggressive action, he didn’t try to
stop her.

“I want to see Tyn Damon and I want to see
him now. He’s been looking for me so he should be happy to hear
it.”

She kept moving forward as the demon moved
back and kept her foot braced against the door. Manon’s gift was
illusion and she was more adept at creating whole scenes, not
becoming ‘invisible’ by hiding behind an illusion of her immediate
surroundings. She wasn’t sure how solid she could make it appear or
how easily a demon could see through it at such close quarters.
Therefore, it was Hope’s job to keep all eyes on her and she kept
pushing and poking the demon in case one of her partners brushed
against him as they slipped by. Because she was a Daughter of Man,
they appeared to her as ghostly figures ascending the stairs.

Their first test was the demon at the door
and now that they’d passed it, their mission was to search for
Faith.

The demon finally pulled himself together.
“Not so fast,” he said fiercely. “You wait here. I get the boss.”
He left her standing in the small foyer.

Hope looked around. The house wasn’t as large
as the Guardian House, but it was larger than Smith’s. There was a
good sized dining room to the right, filled with furniture from the
1940s. The kitchen was probably directly behind it at the back of
the house. To the left a living room, same circa. Behind it, who
knew? Most likely, upstairs held three or four bedrooms and above
that, an attic or servants quarters.

She chose the living room because she would
be farthest from the stairs and anyone facing her would have their
back to them. As she was entering, she saw someone open a door
behind the stairs and head toward the kitchen. A basement?

She took a seat in an old Morris chair,
folded her hands in her lap and primly crossed her ankles and as
quickly uncrossed them and planted her feet firmly on the floor. If
she had to move fast, she didn’t want to trip over her own feet.
She brushed the front of her skirt, but there was nothing she could
do to hide the spatters of demon blood.

*****

When the minion knocked, Tyn was just tucking
his new silk shirt into his new light wool slacks. There was
something to be said for expensive human clothes. The finest to be
had in the otherworld weren’t nearly as nice as these. He preened
in front of the mirror before snarling for the minion to enter.

“I thought I said I wasn’t to be
disturbed.”

“The red haired woman is here. I thought
you’d want to know.” The minion cowered, expecting a blow for
disobedience.

“She’s been delivered?” he rubbed his hands
together in glee. At long last, the bitch was his. She was his to
play with for as long as she lasted and if she wasn’t as pretty and
cooperative as Beauty, that wouldn’t be long. He would have to find
her a name. All pets should have one. He’d call her Beauty. When
Beauty went to work with the minionettes, she’d be Number Five as
she was meant to be in the first place. He meant the red head to
take her place, why not take her name? And then he thought how did
she get here? He was supposed to pick her up.

“Where’s Gor and Smith?” he asked the minion
still skulking in the doorway.

The minion looked confused. “No Gor. No
Smith. She knocked on the door.”

Was Smith playing some kind of game? Gor
wasn’t bright, but he was obedient. This change in plans should
have been reported.

“When was the last time Gor called in?”

“Two hours ago.”

“He should have called since then. Why wasn’t
I told?”

The demon messenger cringed. “You said you
weren’t to be disturbed.” He glanced at Beauty and licked his
lips.

Tyn shook his head at the beast’s stupidity.
He should have known. In this business, he couldn’t afford to take
a single day off. He should have cuffed the demon for leering at
Beauty, but what the hell. In a few more hours she wouldn’t be his
personal pet anymore and he was feeling generous.

He looked at her, huddled naked against the
wall. Their last day together had been something to remember. He
patted her head affectionately on his way to the door.

“You’re going to get what you’ve always
wanted, my dear. After a joyous reunion with the red head, and I
really want you to watch that first bite, you’re going to live with
the minionettes. You shouldn’t have lied to me Beauty. You know who
she is and she isn’t you.”

Beauty showed no reaction, even after the
door closed, but a faint light flickered in her vacant eyes.

“Hope,” she whispered and sighed with
relief.

*****

Damon strode into the room. “Where’s Smith,”
he asked without preamble.

“Dead,” she answered, just as abruptly. How
quickly she’d lost her good manners. “Along with his buddy,
Gor.”

A bold one, he thought to himself, but not
fearless. She was afraid, terrified in fact. He could smell it and
it pleased him. It was all he could do not to bite and fuck her
here and now, but he wanted to do this one right, with candles and
roses and her sister watching.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
He barked out a name that she couldn’t decipher and another
creature appeared in the doorway. “Check outside. Bring me Smith.”
The creature left and she heard the front door slam.

“You won’t find him, unless you go to his
house. He’s dead and I’ve come for my sister. Just give her to me
and we’ll go away. I won’t cause you any more trouble.”

Tyn smiled and she saw the demon within. He
leaned toward her, inhaling deeply. Yes, underneath the fear, he
could smell it. She was special, just like her sister. Her taste
would be nectar for the gods and he would be her god.

“Oh,” he said as if he was delighted with her
remark, “You can’t cause me any trouble that I won’t enjoy.”

*****

Grace and Manon reached the top of the stairs
without even a squeaky step to give them away. The hallway was
empty and all five doors were closed. The first, on the left, was
unlocked and empty except for a dead mouse in the middle of the
floor. Grace snickered silently as Manon moved cautiously around
the mouse as if it might jump up at any moment. Apparently demons
were no biggie, but mice were dangerous opponents. They checked the
window for exit possibilities and the closet to be sure there was
nothing of interest there and tiptoed across the hall.

This bedroom was fully furnished, but
obviously unused; no clothes in the closet and a thin layer of dust
coating everything including the well-worn coverlet. The room
smelled stale and slightly of dog. The well-used and rank smelling
bathroom was next. A hairbrush with dark brown hair stuck in the
bristles sat upright in a dirty plastic bowl along with some
make-up and an almost empty tube of antiseptic cream. Grace pulled
a few strands from the brush and held them up to the light. They
were curly and glinted red.

As they crept back into the hallway and onto
the next door, they heard voices on the stairs. Mercifully, this
door was also unlocked and they ducked inside, closing it softly
behind them.

They held their breath and listened.

“He don’t want her anymore. I heard him say
so.”

“Don’t matter. He ain’t given her to us.”

“I say let’s take her,” said a third
voice.

“What you doing up here!” a fourth angry
voice from the stairs. “Boss want you on the front door. You! Stay
up here in the hall. In the hall, you hear? No place else. You two
come with me. We got work outside.”

“Let Maul and Trif do it.”

“I said you.”

All this was followed by a lot of grumbling
and growling and then a few snarls and yelps. When it was quiet
again, the two Daughters stood back from the door and took their
first look around the room.

The room was padded, more for soundproofing
than for softness. The window was boarded over and padded as well.
There were four worn, but comfortable looking chairs stained with
what Grace decided she’d rather not know. Overflowing ashtrays
dotted the few tables and the coffee table was strewn with
magazines with brutal sexually explicit covers. The women couldn’t
talk for fear of discovery, but Grace could read that Manon’s
mortified emotions were much like her own. Was this a waiting
room?

Manon gestured to the closed door at the back
of the room, another closet, only it wasn’t. It opened to a flight
of stairs leading up. These walls were padded, too. At the top was
another door, soundproofed. Grace dug away some of the padding and
pressed her ear against the wood. There were whimpers, soft
murmurs, but no conversation. As quietly as she could, she turned
the knob and opened the door to a hallway with four doors leading
off of it. The doors were open and a quick glance inside showed the
first three were empty but used. They were filthy. The small twin
beds were covered in greying rumpled sheets. The sound proofed
walls were spattered with drink, food and other smears she thought
might be blood. Behind her, she heard Manon’s quiet gasp.

Four pairs of blankly staring eyes met them
when they entered the fourth room. Three young women sat huddled
together on the bed. Behind them lay a fourth who looked close to
death. All were emaciated and clothed in ragged scraps of lingerie.
They showed no relief or fear, just sat and stared.

“Oh, my poor darlings,” Manon spoke for the
first time since entering the house, “What has that beast done to
you?” She held their faces in her hands, one by one, and kissed
them, stroked their dry and brittle hair and murmured words of
comfort. “Manon and Grace are here and Hope is downstairs. We are
here to take you to safety and see to the demon’s destruction.”

Grace had never seen Manon cry. She knew she
was compassionate and fiercely protective of those she loved, but
Manon was always the one who was clear headed and in control. Now
she looked like an avenging angel ready to war with the devils
below. She wiped the tears from her own cheeks and looked at each
woman carefully.

“Faith’s not here,” she placed her hand on
Manon’s shoulder. “We need to keep searching.”

“No.” That one word was filled with
determination. “We cannot leave these poor babies here. Search for
a way to get them out and then we will search for Faith. I cannot
leave them here. I will not leave them here for the beasts. They
will suffer no more. Help me find a way.”

They poked at the walls, searching for a
window, but when they finally found it, there was nothing but a
sheer three story drop to the ground below. The women hadn’t moved,
hadn’t shown any reaction to what these two strangers were doing.
Manon and Grace left them there to search the other rooms.

In the third room they checked, they found
their only hope, a fire escape fastened just below the window sill.
They struggled with the small window and when it finally opened,
they froze at the noise. When they heard no response from below,
Grace leaned out to inspect the route.

“It doesn’t look good, Manon. It’s rickety
and rusted and the platform at the second floor has holes eaten
through it. There’s stairs, but it looks like they end over the
windows up front. We can’t do this.”

“We can and we will. Let’s get the
girls.”

Chapter 42

Moncore didn’t sound happy to hear from him
at first, almost hung up until he mentioned Manon’s name and then
the guy sounded okay. His name wasn’t Moncore, but Otto, go figure,
and once Joseph explained who he was and why he was calling, the
guy asked him for directions, said thank you and hung up. He hoped
that meant someone was on the way.

Just as Otto hung up, Joseph saw a guy at the
front of the house giving him the eye, so he kept walking and
pretended to be talking to his wife. He did some bitching about
always having to stop and pick up bread and milk, which came pretty
naturally, he hated to admit, and the guy moved around to the side
of the house. Joseph ducked behind an overgrown forsythia bush at
the end of the next driveway and kept an eye on the house. Two more
guys came out the front door and went around the opposite side. The
first guy was almost to the back of the house when Joseph happened
to look up.