Guardian's Joy #3 (18 page)

Who was this monster feeding on young women?
This was the fourth victim in the last month. There was another
victim two months ago and another the month before that if his
suspicions were correct. Two of the victims were drained. Two were
not. This one had been raped. One was not. Joy had interrupted one
in the midst of the attack, so no conclusions could be drawn. The
other’s status was unknown, though he vaguely remembered the
conclusions drawn on one of the earlier victims; raped, murdered
and left in an alley where the rats had done their work.

Both of those earlier victims he’d attributed
to demon attacks and since demons were hunted and killed in both
areas within the week that followed, he’d thought no more about it.
He should have. If he’d paid more attention to those deaths, he
might have seen something that could have prevented the others.

He slammed the table with his fist, saw the
spiderweb of cracks spread through the inch thick glass and swore.
If he didn’t work off some of this anger and frustration, he’d do
some real damage. He headed for the gym.

Once there, the appeal of hitting something
hard enough to break it lost its attraction. The heavy bag beneath
his fists did nothing to release his tension. After only ten
minutes, he gave it up and went back to his room for his coat.
There was still time before the sun came up to shovel away the
newest batch of snow. Working outdoors in the frigid air would
satisfy his need for physical release with the added benefit of a
sense of punishment to assuage his guilt.

As he passed through the long hall at the
back of the house, he could hear the soft murmur of voices coming
from the kitchen. Grace would be consoling Canaan with offers of
food and love and gentle laughter. Nico would find his comfort in
the kind and caring arms of his mate; Broadbent in the solace of
his books. John Donne and his
Holy Sonnet X
would be Nardo’s
guess. The twins, being young, would deny death’s hold on the House
with hell-raising away the rest of the night and reaffirming life
the following day by fucking their respective lovers senseless.

After twenty plus years of lifting the skirts
of any woman willing, Nardo had lost his taste for casual sex and
had no current lover or mate to turn to. Unlike the professor, he’d
never understood poetry, so at times like these, he usually turned
to his work. But tonight, the computer offered no distraction. It
only reminded him of his failure.

He walked on cat’s paws across the wooden
floor. If Canaan or Grace heard him, they would feel compelled to
share their warmth and offer their company. He didn’t want to
intrude on their intimacy. The latch of the door clicked loud in
the silence, but the murmur punctuated by a soft laugh continued.
He slipped silently out into the cold and heard the voice of an
angel.

There was no wind, no far off hissing of
buses stopping along their route, no grumbling of truck engines at
their early morning deliveries. The snow had shut down the city and
the everyday, pre-dawn sounds of life were absent. Far in the
distance, echoing through the silence, St. Stephen’s church bells
rang out the Angelus in the time honored call to Matins, the
morning prayers. It was rare to hear them this far from the
river.

As the sound of the bells faded, all that
could be heard was the sweet clear notes of a woman’s delicate
soprano coming from the alley that ran the full length of the
street out front. The voice wasn’t loud, but the sound carried
through the cold darkness as sound often seems to do. The tune was
familiar; a round meant to be sung in two or three parts, one
beginning before the other ends. These words were new to him, but
the pattern was the same, each line sung with an echo. As he
listened, his anger left him and the simple beauty of it was like a
light in the darkness and it filled him with joy.

He silently climbed the steps to the deck in
the hope of catching a glimpse of who in this neighborhood would
brave the cold to sing such a delicately innocent song.

“Oh how lovely is the evening, is the
evening,

When the bells are sweetly ringing, sweetly
ringing.

Ding, dong, ding, dong.”

It was Joy, standing at the rail with her
arms wrapped around her middle and her head turned up to the sky.
Her hair glistened with a lacey cap of snow and her eyelashes
sparkled with tiny flakes. She was a picture of beauty and peace
and as the last note died away, she smiled.

“Through the day, I’ll send my heart to thee,
send my heart to thee,

Turn thy dreams to thoughts of loving me,
thoughts of loving me,

Sweet sleep, sweet sleep.”

When he began to sing, Nardo saw Joy’s
shoulders tense and he thought for a moment that she would be
angered or embarrassed by his presence. But then her shoulders
relaxed and her smile returned and though she didn’t turn to him,
she knew who he was and she was listening.

The second time he sang the verse she joined
him at the appropriate moment and continued on, using his words.
Three times they sang the round as all rounds should be sung, his
voice deep and rough, hers high and sweet and pure.

As before, when the last words faded into the
darkness, she smiled. Only this time, the smile was for him and his
returning grin must have made him look like a half-assed fool, but
he couldn’t help it. A thought crossed his mind that he didn’t dare
speak aloud. “
You bring me joy. You are my Joy
.”

She turned back to the rail, looking out over
the alley to Manon’s gingerbread porch. “I love the snow,” she
whispered as if it was a secret shared only with him, “Especially
at night, when the world is quiet and the snow is untouched. I feel
like it’s a present sent only to me. I heard the church bells and
they reminded me of a song Mrs. Garrity taught me when I was a
little girl. She was an older lady who lived upstairs from us. She
used to take care of me while my mother entertained. That’s what
she used to call it. Mrs. Garrity was good to me. She’d teach me
songs and bake me little cakes and let me decorate them any way I
wanted. And when the noise from my mother’s apartment got too loud,
she’d turn the TV up and hold me on her lap or sometimes, she’d
take me for a midnight walk in the snow.”

“And tell you it was a present sent only to
you,” he whispered back. He slowly made his way to the rail beside
her.

Joy laughed and it was as pure as her song.
“Yes. I believed her then and I believe her now.”

“It’s good to have someone to believe in,” he
said.

She looked at him suspiciously, though she
still smiled. “Is that a pick up line?”

“No,” he said and then he grinned, “Unless,
of course, you want it to be.”

“Don’t spoil it,” she said.

“Then I’ll say goodnight,” he said and soft
as one of the snowflakes falling from the sky, he kissed her cheek.
And then he was gone.

JJ touched the place on her cheekbone where
he’d placed his kiss and wiped away the tear that leaked from the
corner of her eye. It was a sweet gesture, probably made out of
pity. She wondered sadly what Nardo would say if he knew that these
last few minutes were the sweetest minutes of her life, at least
the life she could remember.

The warmth inside her grew.

Chapter
18

Faith ignored her breakfast and watched the
door with frightened eyes. She still didn’t speak, but she
communicated a great deal through her eyes and facial expressions.
It was another sign of an active mind behind her usual façade of
blank indifference. She was much more comfortable in the company of
the women, particularly JJ’s, though it was clear she liked
Broadbent’s reading as long as he didn’t come too close. In the
presence of the other men, however, she reverted to blind eyes and
deaf ears.

Since JJ didn’t know how to act all gentle
and gooey, she spoke to the young woman the way she did everyone
else and Faith seemed to appreciate it. JJ enjoyed their time
together and quickly learned to read the young recluse’s body
language fairly well. Faith’s encouraging smiles or bored frowns
made it clear she preferred personal revelations and House gossip
to talk about television and JJ found herself revealing things to
her silent new friend that she’d never think of revealing to anyone
else.

“It’s moving day and the whole house is in an
uproar. Hope and Nico have waited months for this. You’d think they
could wait a few more days, but no-o-o, they have to pick the night
after a snowstorm.” JJ tried to keep her voice conversational,
though it wasn’t easy when the conversation was one sided. “The
guys all looked mortified when I offered to help move furniture.
Grace giggled something about masculine pride and Dov made some
crack about hanging curtains. He’ll pay for that next time I get
him on the mats.”

Faith jumped at a loud crash from the hallway
followed by several thumps and loud curses. The twins were at it
again.

“I’m going to open the door, okay? Maybe if
we can see what’s going on, it won’t seem so scary.”

Faith’s hand shot out toward the door,
fingers splayed, her wide eyes clearly saying, “
No!
”

“Yes,” JJ countered, “There’s nothing out
there to be afraid of. If any of them give you a hard time…” She
grinned and called the blue fire to her fingertips “I’ll zap their
ass.”

Faith looked at her curiously.

“Yeah, my fire’s different from yours. You
heal. I just light ‘em up.” She stood and reached for the knob.
“Now, don’t you panic,” she said firmly. “This house is as safe as
Fort Knox and those are the good guys out there. They won’t hurt
you and it’s time you got a handle on that.”

Faith’s wide eyes began to tear. “
Please
don’t open it
,” they begged.

“Aw, honey, bad shit happens. Sometimes all
by itself and sometimes because we fuck up. It scares the crap out
of us. We wouldn’t be human if it didn’t.” JJ bent so she and the
younger woman were face to face. “I’m not telling you to forget
what happened. You can’t. But you’re free now and you have to start
living like it. Otherwise the bastard wins. You can’t spend your
life locked away because you’re afraid. That’s just exchanging one
prison for another.”

Faith gave little snort and rolled her eyes.
“
Yeah, right
,” the gesture said, “
Look who’s
talking
.”

Instead of opening the door as she planned,
JJ sat back down with a thump. “Damn. Dear Abby heal thyself, huh?
You think I should listen to my own advice.” She considered it and
shook her head. “It’s different for me. I have a life out there. I
come and go as I please. I’m not living in fear.”

The other woman drew back her head, pursed
her lips and stared down her nose at JJ. “
Oh please. Say it
enough times and maybe we’ll both believe it.
”

“Okay, you win. I am afraid. What if Nardo
turns out to be like the others? What if, when it comes time to do
the deed, I can’t… I don’t respond to him like I should.” She
rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. “And what
about Nardo? He deserves better than me.”

Faith stamped her little feet and set her
tiny fists on her hips. “
No! You are good enough
.” She waved
her hand at the door where Dov and Col were arguing good naturedly
and calling each other disgusting names. She rolled her eyes as if
to say, “
They’re no angels
.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve heard all about the
Guardian’s ‘huge appetites of the flesh,’ but who did they mate?
Two virgins and a French goddess; two things I’m definitely not.
What’s Nardo going to say when he finds out I’m no better than a
scrawny whore.”

A sharp gasp made JJ look up. Faith had her
hands laid over one another, tapping her chest. Her eyes were
filled with tears.

“Oh no, Faith,” JJ cried sliding to her knees
in front of the other woman and taking up her hands in her own.
“It’s not the same. You couldn’t help what was done to you.”

Faith was a victim of demon rape. The word
hit JJ like a hammer blow. Sharp pain pierced her temples and then
it was gone, leaving her shocked at her physical reaction. As a
cop, she’d seen her share of victims, said and written the word for
her reports and she’d never reacted the way she did now. What was
the matter with her?

A solitary tear rolled down Faith’s face
following the scar that destroyed the smoothness of her cheek. She
took JJ’s hand and placed it over her heart before placing her own
delicate hand over JJ’s. The look of love she gave her new found
friend said it all. “
We’re the same
.”

“No,” JJ said quietly, her voice rough from
pain and shock, “It’s not the same. For you, it was so much worse.”
And as she said it, she knew it was true, but for the life of her,
she couldn’t say why.

Faith rose from her chair and without any
hesitation, opened the door, stepped out and stood watching Dov and
Col struggling with an armoire in the hall. She looked back over
her shoulder at JJ.

JJ tried to smile and sniffed back the tears
that were threatening to fall. “For someone who doesn’t talk, you
sure have a lot to say,” she said, dusting off her knees. She let
out her breath in a long, cleansing sigh and nodded in defeat.
“You’re saying if you’ve got the guts to step out all alone, then I
better find the guts to open a few doors of my own.”

Faith smiled.

*****

JJ opened the first door the next day when
the others had gone to bed. If she wanted to find a place in this
House, they needed to stop treating her like a guest and she needed
to stop acting like one.

The third floor apartment was empty of
everything Hope and Nico planned to take to their new home and
Grace had mentioned it needed to be cleaned before the floors could
be refinished and the walls painted for the new tenants. They
wouldn’t let JJ help move the furniture or carry the endless boxes
of things Hope had purchased and stored. She didn’t know anything
about furniture arrangement and picture hanging or where to place
the delicate bits and pieces of china and glass that Hope seemed to
favor. Her idea of home décor was the stone gargoyle outside her
front door.