Guardian's Joy #3 (35 page)

“
I love you, sweetheart. I always have. I
only wanted what was best. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I was pampered and adored and treated better
than the other girls who were all older than me. They thought I was
special and after a while, I thought so, too.”

She had more ability at twelve than many of
the older women. She delighted in showing off her abilities. By the
time she was fourteen she could not only light candles from across
the room, she turn appliances on and off without ever touching
them.

“After my mother died, things went on much as
they had before. I was their long awaited gift and I ignored my
mother’s warnings. I worked with members of the first coven. I
learned their rituals and incantations. I saw and heard things I
shouldn’t. My mother taught me well and I knew some of those things
were dangerous and wrong. I ignored that, too, because I was
special. I was proud.”

“You were a child, baby, a child.” Nardo
tried to lift Joy to her feet. Whatever this was Joy felt the need
to tell, he wanted to hold her while she told it, but she refused
to rise, refused to look at him. She continued to kneel, a penitent
at his feet, and continued her confession.

“I wasn’t a child much longer.”

After her first period, they were after
her
.
Marion was the worst.

“
You’re a woman now and the High Lord
wants to see you.”

“
The High Lord has an interest in you. You
should feel honored.”

“
You should feel privileged he’s noticed
you.”

She’d seen the High Lord on many occasions
in the two years since she arrived. He’d made it a point to speak
with her and favored her with a seat next to him on feast days. He
wouldn’t let her call him Father the way the others did. She didn’t
like him. His touch sent worms crawling beneath her skin, but she
never let it show. His attention was a sign of how special she was
and she saw the looks of envy in the other girl’s eyes, so she
never protested or refused his attention, not until she realized he
wasn’t interested in Joy the child, but in the woman she would
become. The High Lord wanted her for his mate. The High Lord wanted
her to breed.

“None of the women in the compound had
children, not the one’s with lovers or the ones with mates. They
were barren, but I was different. I already was what they were
trying to create. Because of my father, I was the perfect partner
for the High Lord. Our children would bring him one step closer to
recreating a master Race.”

“He’s trying to recreate the Nephilim.” Nardo
couldn’t believe what he was hearing and yet he knew what she was
saying was true.

She’d refused the High Lord and her
privileged life was over. She was assigned the worst and dirtiest
chores, but she wouldn’t give in no matter how many wonderful
things they promised her. She was special. Hadn’t they told her
that over and over again? Why should she accept the High Lord who
was old and creepy and ugly? She wanted a mate like Samuel. He was
seventeen and the handsomest boy she’d ever seen. She’d loved him
from afar forever and lately, he’d shown an interest in her, too.
He showed up a lot and always when she managed to slip out from
under the watchful eyes of the first coven. He brought her flowers
and sometimes a treat from the kitchen. Once, he’d kissed her in
the cow barn when she was supposed to be mucking out the stalls. If
she was Samuel’s, the High Lord wouldn’t want her any more.

“I seduced that poor boy.”

“Baby, it would be hard to find a boy that
age who wouldn’t want to be seduced, especially by someone who
looked like you.”

JJ shook her head. Nardo didn’t understand,
but he would. He would. “It wasn’t long after that the High Lord’s
Second came to get me.”

Marion stood in the doorway of the small
room Joy now slept in, her arms crossed beneath her ample bosom.
Two other witches of the First Coven stood behind her looking just
as severe.

“
You’ve tried his patience, girl. You were
brought here for this. You were promised to us. We cared for your
mother and we’ve cared for you. Now it’s time to pay up, do your
duty. We’ve put up with your nonsense long enough. I knew no good
would come of spoiling you. You’re nothing more than a willful
brat. Well, we’re done with that. Gather your things and come with
me.”

“
I won’t. I won’t. You can’t make
me!”

“
Perhaps I can’t, but he’s sent someone
who can.”

Marion nodded to someone in the hall beyond
the door. The women stepped back to allow him to pass. It was the
High Lord’s Second, a brutal man who everyone feared. They claimed
he was an angel, too, though Joy could never understand how anyone
could believe it.

He wasted no time with words. He back handed
her so hard she thought her jaw was broken. He then grabbed her by
the hair and dragged her down the hall. She screamed, screamed and
screamed, but no one came to help.

“If I’d listened to my mother, run while I
had the chance, no one would have been hurt. None of this would
have happened.”

She felt Nardo’s legs to either side of her
body stiffen and begin to grow in bulk. He was angry. She had to
finish before he exploded with rage.

“He kept me in a cell in one of the
basements. It was dark and damp and I was frightened all the time.
I didn’t know if it was day or night.”

All she knew was his footsteps and the
clicking of the lock when he opened the door. He beat her. Every
time he opened the door, a beating would follow. And then he’d
place a pan of water on the floor and a few scraps of food beside
it and he’d leave without ever saying a word.

She lost track of time, had no way to
measure it. At first, she tried to use her power, but there were no
lights to turn on, no candles to burn. She was hurt and filthy and
growing weaker. She wasn’t strong or powerful or special. It wasn’t
long before she began to beg.

Soon after, she heard another set of
footsteps marching across the concrete floor. The High Lord came
for a visit. She thought he’d come to take over the beating and she
huddled in the corner as had become her habit when the door was
opened.

Instead of beating her, he knelt beside her
and stroked her hair from her face. An immediate warmth flowed
through her and the pain from her bruises seemed to lessen.

“
Poor, poor Joy,” he said, “This wouldn’t
have happened if you’d come to me. I could have prevented this. I
can make it stop now. Would you like that?”

“
Yes,” she whispered, “Yes.”

“
Yes, what?”

“
Yes please, sir.”

“
I think we should have special names
between us, don’t you? Let’s try yes please my love.”

“
Yes please my love.” They were only
words.

“
Good, very good. I’ve brought you some
food. Come.”

He brought in a folding table and chairs
along with a small plate of food. When he asked her to light the
votive candle, she did it gladly. The flickering glow that filled
her cell was like a light from heaven, the food like manna.

It was only after she’d eaten that he told
her the price of her meal. Some of her haughtiness returning with
the meal, she refused. He nodded sadly, said he was disappointed
and again brushed her hair away from her face. It was such a kind
and gentle gesture and she felt a moment’s regret. He left and his
Second returned. She vomited the meal.

It wasn’t long before she did every vile
thing the High Lord asked.

Joy’s body was frozen in stillness. Her voice
became a monotone as she repeated the litany of what had been done
to her, of what those animals had forced her to do. And underneath
it all, he heard the words she didn’t say. Nardo could take no
more. He’d done what he could to control the rage, but this had
gone on long enough.

This time he did lift her to her feet, forced
her up and held her by the shoulders. She wouldn’t raise her face
to his.

“Look at me,” he said. He tried to dampen the
anger in his voice. He failed. “Look at me,” he shouted and he
shook her.

She raised her head enough to look up at him
through her lashes and the fear and misery he saw in her eyes tore
at him, but soft talk and kindness wasn’t what she needed now.
After what she’d just revealed, she wouldn’t trust it. He gave her
another little shake and dug his fingers into her back to force her
shoulders to straighten.

“Head up. I want you to clearly see my face
when I say this.”

He saw her chest rise with a sharp intake of
breath and she raised her face to his. She looked like a woman
ready to accept the worst. This was the girl she’d been, the one
huddling in the corner of her cell. It was not the woman she should
be, the one who was strong and fearless. He grabbed the blanket
from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“You will never hang your head in front of
me. Do you hear me?” He kept his voice steady and firm.

One sharp nod was her response.

“You will never again bow down at my feet, at
any man’s feet. Do you understand?”

Another nod.

“You will stand strong and proud because
that’s what you are, a strong, proud woman. My woman. Mine. What
happened to you was not your fault.”

JJ stared at him in stunned silence. He’d
been so angry. She’d thought he was going to send her away. He
couldn’t see it. He didn’t understand. He was blinded by something
that couldn’t be. He’d gotten one thing right though. She’d
forgotten who she was, what she’d trained herself to be. Pulling
the blanket around her, she faced him.

“It was my fault,” she told him, “Because I
thought I was better, because I believed what they told me instead
of my mother who never lied. It was my fault because I used someone
I loved to get what I wanted and it got him killed. You can say
‘mine’ all you want, Nardo, I can’t ever be yours. You said so
yourself. A blood bond can’t be broken and I’m blood bound to the
High Lord.”

*****

Canaan lay on his side, elbow propped on the
pillow, head propped on his fist as he watched Grace run the brush
through her dark curls over and over. He chuckled to himself. She
was wasting her time. The way she looked in that slinky red
nightgown with the skinny little straps, those silky curls would be
tumbled into a sexy mess within minutes of her reaching their bed,
but he was enjoying the show and she knew it, so he said nothing.
He was a bit surprised, therefore, when she tossed an expensive
looking envelope onto the bed and stood looking down at him with
her hands on her hips.

“Broadbent picked this up at the Post Office
tonight.”

Was that a note of jealousy he detected? “Why
didn’t you open it?”

“It was addressed to you and it looks
personal and… it smells.” The envelope reeked of Callista’s
perfume.

“Grrr, little kitty has claws.” Canaan
laughed but when he saw Grace clench her jaws, he relented. This
was, after all, supposed to be a morning of make-up sex after the
set-to in the dining room a few hours earlier. The sexy red number
had been his first clue that all was well. He pulled back the
covers and patted the spot beside him where Grace always slept.
“Let’s open it together and see what she has to say.”

“As if I care,” she said, but she crawled
into bed and snuggled up next to him.

He almost laughed again at her smug and
self-satisfied look when he put his arm around her and pulled her
in close, but wisdom kept him silent. Instead, he kissed the top of
her head.

“Well? Aren’t you going to open it?”

Hadn’t she just said she didn’t care?
“Thought you might want to play a bit first,” he teased, “but if
you insist.”

He ran his thumb along the flap to break the
seal and removed an engraved invitation protected by a sheet of
velum. “How about that, we’re invited to a formal event. Our
favorite Advisor has found some poor sap to mate with her.”

“Oh goody, goody and right in our own back
yard, too. Do we have to go?” Callista had once tried to drive a
wedge between Grace and Canaan for her own purposes. She was not
one of Grace’s favorite people.

“I think we do,” he told her, “Since the poor
sap is the Director of Moonlight Sanctuary. Politics. I have no use
for the sport, but it’s a game we must play.” He pulled another
card from the envelope. It was a folded note card with his name
handwritten on the front. “My Dearest Lord Canaan,” he read, “I do
hope you and Grace along with the rest of your House will accept
this heartfelt invitation to join Maximillian and myself in the
celebration of our coming union. It will be an opportunity for a
new beginning for us all.” He laughed when Grace stuck out her
tongue and raspberried the missive.

“I just want to be friends,” she mimicked in
a high falsetto and then switched to her normal voice. “That’s why
she gave us four days to find appropriate dresses for the
Sanctuary’s formal winter cotillion.”

“How do you know about the winter dance?”

“Dov and Col.” Grace grinned at him. “They
received their invitations weeks ago and begged me not to make them
go. They very politely sent their regrets on House stationary. Your
sister would be proud.” She shrugged and laughed. “Or not. They
also asked me not to tell her.”

“And you, as my lady and mistress of my home,
will send our acceptance on the same stationary. For everyone.”

“I’ll ask, but I don’t think Otto and Manon
will want to put themselves through that and if it was up to me,
I’d leave it to the others to decide whether they want to go or
not.”

“And that would be fine if it was up to you.
Otto and Manon are exempt, but the rest are members of my House and
they will attend.” Canaan wasn’t smiling now.