Guardian's Joy #3 (12 page)

*****

Canaan came through the door and went
directly to the family room without acknowledging anyone in the
kitchen.

“Oh, oh,” was all Grace said when she didn’t
receive her usual hello kiss. The look on Canaan’s face was enough
to tell her that now was not a good time to protest his
neglect.

Col, following behind, stopped to explain.
“There was another killing only the cops got there first. We saw
the flashing lights and headed over to investigate, heard some guy
in the crowd talking about the body being bitten and drained. So we
went around the corner and white lighted where no one would see us
and headed back to the scene. The guy was right. She’d been bitten.
No demon stench, no nothing. Not much blood either.” He pointed in
the direction Canaan had gone. “He wants to see if it hit the news
yet. I tried telling him it was too soon, but you know the
boss.”

Broadbent turned to Grace’s radio, slipping
the dial to an all-news station while Hope headed to her office to
see what could be found on the internet.

“Damage control?” Broadbent asked.

“Canaan did what he could with the crowd and
I took care of the mouth, but you can’t make something like that go
away.” Col shrugged. “Too many people coming and going. Too many
cops and it had already gone out over the radio. They had the place
roped off. Detectives, technicians, coroner came while we were
there.”

Broadbent nodded in understanding. “I believe
we’ll need Nardo’s expertise in this. We’ll need police reports and
the coroner’s autopsy results. It might take some time before those
things are available, but I imagine the authorities will find this
death unique enough to insure it has priority status.”

“The victim, Col, who was she?” Grace
asked.

Canaan answered from the doorway, “Human
female. I’d say late teens, early twenties. We don’t have a name.”
He looked from face to face around the room. “We’ll wait for Nico
and Dov to come in, get some supper and meet in the War Room.” He
turned to Grace. “Is Otto eating here or home tonight?”

“Here. They’ll be over any minute.”

“Good. I want Otto in on this.”

“In on what?” The question came from both
sides of the room as Otto came in one door and Nardo entered
through the other. The door in the pantry clicked open revealing
Nico and Dov before Canaan had a chance to answer. Everyone started
talking at once until Grace banged on the counter with a wooden
spoon.

“Everyone go wash up and give me ten minutes
to set up. You can serve yourselves and take it to the War Room.
Hope, Manon and I will take ours upstairs to the Rose Room. It’s
time we got acquainted with our guest.”

Ten minutes turned into twenty, but the men
were finally ensconced in the War Room and the women, with loaded
trays, headed for JJ’s room.

“We’ve been kicked out of the big pow-wow
downstairs so we decided to come visit you,” Grace said after
knocking. “We have food, wine and chocolate. Care to join us?” She
set down the tray and took a corkscrew from her back pocket. “I’ve
heard that red wine is good for the blood.”

“Grace, don’t tempt. The child has been ill
and she should not take too much, too soon,” the Frenchwoman
admonished.

“I tried telling Nardo the same thing at
lunch,” Grace laughed. “He didn’t listen and apparently I was
wrong. The ‘child’ could put Dov to shame.”

Here it comes, JJ thought. How can you be so
skinny? Where do you put it? You can’t eat like that all the time.
And then there’d be the subtle hints about drugs or bulimia or
whatever.

“Ah, c’est bon. You were wasting away. A
woman must eat to keep up her strength, non? Pour her a glass to go
with her meal.” She snapped out her napkin and winked.

1960. Sophia Loren before she dieted away
that lusty figure. That’s all JJ could think as she took in the
older woman standing at the foot of the bed. This woman had white
hair and was a few years older than the Loren in those films.
Otherwise they might be twins.

“I am Manon. We have been intimately
acquainted over the last few days, but we have yet to be
introduced,” she laughed.

JJ flushed crimson and lowered her eyes. “I’m
JJ and thanks. Sorry to put you out like that.”

“It is of little matter. We do what we can
for each other.” Manon smiled reassuringly. “You would do the same
for one of us.”

JJ wasn’t so sure about that and she felt a
little ashamed.

“I thought your name was Joy,” said Grace, as
she passed around the glasses. “Did I miss something?”

JJ sighed. “My legal name is Joy Justice, but
everyone calls me JJ. It’s what I prefer.”

“And you’re a cop?” Grace asked.

“Yeah, or I used to be.” JJ sighed again.
“And I’ve heard all the jokes about the name.”

“I was just asking.” Grace laughed in chagrin
and began to remove the covers from the dinner plates. She opened
the legs on one of the trays and carried it to the bed, settling it
across JJ’s lap. “Manon, you can have the chair. Hope and I can
share the bed with JJ.”

“I think we will have one more.” Manon
pointed to the door and the soft, coaxing voice coming from the
hall.

“It’s all right, sweetheart. There’s no one
here to hurt you.”

“Hope’s sister, Faith,” Grace whispered, “She
was held captive by a demon and her mind is damaged. She’s much
better than she was, but she’s still afraid to leave her room.”

The woman Hope led into the room was a tiny,
birdlike creature who looked so frail, JJ felt like a charlatan for
being the one in bed. A three inch scar, puckered and red, marred
one pale cheek and her eyes looked sunken and vacant. Her one
attractive feature was her hair. Soft, dark, golden curls fell to
her shoulders and bounced luxuriantly when she shook her head.

In contrast, JJ judged Hope to be about six
feet tall. Big bust, narrow waist and a good set of hips; she was a
curvier version of Manon, but where the older woman was fashionably
and expensively dressed, Hope wore a long denim skirt and an
oversized sweater that had both seen better days. Her nails,
however, were long, well-manicured and polished bright red.

Hope almost dragged her sister into the room
and forcibly held her in place while she identified each person.
Contrary to her body language, Hope’s voice was soft and
pleasant.

“Faith, come on now. You know Manon. She’s
been to visit you many times and of course, you know Grace. The
woman in the bed is new. Her name is…”

“JJ. Her name is JJ,” Grace cut in.

“Yes, her name is JJ and she’s been hurt.
She’s all right now, but she has to stay in bed for a while. I
wanted you to meet her. She’s like us, you know. She’ll be kind to
you, but for now, she needs our help.”

Faith stopped struggling and turned toward JJ
and JJ was overwhelmed with compassion and pity. At first, she
thought the young woman was blind. Her eyes were totally blank and
her face showed no emotion at all. She stared at or through JJ for
a moment and then moved up beside the bed. JJ held perfectly
still.

“This is new,” Hope whispered.

Tentatively, her hand shaking as if from
palsy, Faith reached out and touched JJ’s hair. It rested there for
a long moment and then began to stroke while she quietly hissed
strange sounds that were oddly comforting. JJ felt a strange
tingling throughout her body and was about to comment on it when
Faith broke contact. The tingle lingered at the back of JJ’s head
where Grace had said her concussion was centered.

“Thank you,” JJ whispered. “I feel much
better.”

Though her face showed no emotion, a tear
formed in the corner of the young woman’s eye as she pulled her
hand to her chest and walked silently to the closed door where she
stood facing it, still staring vacantly. With an evident effort of
control, Hope went to her sister and put her arm around her
shoulder.

“All right, sweetheart, you can go back now.
You did really well.” And she led Faith out the door.

“Holy crap,” Grace whispered as she and Manon
released the breath they’d been holding. She emptied her glass. “I
don’t know what just happened, but I hope it happens again. She’s
never reacted to anyone except Hope since we brought her home. She
lets Hope touch her, sometimes Manon, but the rest of us can’t and
she never makes the first move. She does what she’s told and that’s
it, like a robot,” she said as she began to bustle about serving
food and drink.

Hope came back into the room, closed the door
and leaned her back against it.

“God be praised,” she whispered. “I’ve prayed
and prayed for some kind of sign. I thought she was gone, but she’s
in there somewhere, isn’t she? We only have to find her.”

“She is there, Hope. We have seen the proof.
Perhaps it is because JJ is bedridden and hurt. Did we not think
Faith tried to help the others? This may be what she needs, to help
one that will survive.”

“Oh, Manon, do you think that’s the key?”

Manon gave her a shrug only a Frenchwoman
could. “It cannot hurt her.” She turned to JJ. “Would you mind if
she came again?”

“I won’t be here that long, but if you think
it’ll help, sure.” While she ate, she looked at Hope curiously. “I
know you from somewhere,” she said and then recognition dawned. “It
was the night you rescued your sister. You were on the street,
huddled in the doorway when my partner and I showed up. We were
coming back from a bust on the other side of town.”

“I knew you looked familiar. You’re the
police officer. I see it now. You changed your hair.” Hope wiped
her eyes and laughed. “It’s much shorter now.”

“You remember my hair?”

“You had beautiful hair. The light from the
streetlamp was behind you and it looked like a halo, like you were
an angel. Some things stand out from that night. Other things are a
blur. You stood out. I always wanted to thank you.” Hope laughed
again. “I worried for weeks about mentioning the demon, but you
already knew about them, didn’t you, and you knew about me,
too.”

“Yeah, and after I touched you I was
positive. You’re a witch.” It was also the night of her first
spontaneous memory. She took another forkful of food and another.
“This,” she said and pointed at the pork chops on her plate with
her fork, “Is heaven. This is what real food tastes like, isn’t
it?” JJ lived on take-out.

“Not exactly a witch. We are something much
more. As are you. You’re a Daughter of Man,” said Manon.

Grace tipped the wine bottle over her glass
and frowned at the drips. “We need more wine. Let me run down and
get some.”

“The apartment’s closer. Nico always keeps a
few bottles,” Hope offered.

JJ’s throat closed and her heart began to
pound. She could feel the sweat forming on her forehead. Grace
rushed to her side.

“JJ? What’s wrong?”

JJ waved her away. “It’s okay,” she said,
though she didn’t know what caused the flash of panic. “Do you all
live here together? Is this like a…” The word stuck in her throat
and she covered with a cough, “Sorry, commune or something and what
the hell is a Daughter of Man?”

“Yes, we all live here together, but no, it’s
not a commune. It’s a House of Guardians and Canaan is Liege Lord
here,” Grace went on, “Until I came, women weren’t allowed to live
in a House of Guardians. When I first came here - the twins brought
me home, too, by the way - Canaan only had the two boys and Uncle
Otto. Uncle Otto introduced me to his mate, Manon, who pretty much
saved my life.” Grace smiled and nodded at her benefactor.

“Otto and Manon bought the house across the
alley from here and moved in although they eat dinner here almost
every night. Then Broadbent, Nardo and Nico came and then the twins
brought Hope home and she and Nico fell in love and mated and now
they’ve bought the house next door to Manon and we’ve expanded this
one to include the house next door to this one so the men aren’t
underfoot all the time.”

Hope returned with the wine just as JJ raised
her hands for Grace to stop. As a cop, she was used to this; people
giving too much information about things she didn’t need to
know.

“Begin at the beginning. What is a House of
Guardians?”

Chapter 13

Grace opened another bottle of wine and
poured refills for them all, even for Hope who usually refused a
second glass, never mind a third. “Tell her our story, Manon, and
tell her how it differs from the Paenitentia legend. She needs to
know that before she hears about the Guardians.”

Manon settled herself in the chair and sipped
her wine while the others settled against the pillows at the head
of the bed and waited quietly for her to begin.

“When humanity was in its childhood,” she
said quietly as if she was telling them a bedtime story, “God sent
a sect of his Servants, angels some say, to instruct those humans
in righteousness. According to our beliefs, the Servants became
fascinated by the beauty and comeliness of the Daughters of Man.
This fascination soon turned to lust. In order to lure the women
away from their families, the Servants gave the Daughters gifts of
abilities beyond the realm of man. The women were beguiled by these
gifts, seduced by the Servants who appeared as men, and were taken
as wives. In the fullness of time the Daughters bore the fruits of
their seduction. Their sons were called Nephilim. They were giants
of great power and glory, renowned for their great appetites for
all things of pleasure and the traits of the fathers were passed to
the sons.

“So it was for the women also, their gifts
being passed from mother to daughter so that the lineage of the mix
of Servant and woman continued and the Daughters of Man became a
race unto themselves.

“Time passed and the Nephilim lost their way.
They abused their power, took pleasure in pain and torment and
began to feed on the blood of humans. The Daughters who loved them
and had been faithful to them were forsaken. God sent Gabriel to
make war upon them and the Great Flood reduced them further.