Fateful Reunion (A Scanguards Novella) (Scanguards Vampires)

by Tina Folsom

  Involuntarily Roxanne shook her head. “Oh no. No way. You’re not using me to get dirt on that jerk and his witchy bullshit.”

  Samson took a step closer. “Please, Roxanne. I know you can do it.”

  “But I won’t. I don’t even want to be in the same town as that bastard, let alone in the same room. Protecting his worthless ass.”

  When Samson made a motion to speak again, Gabriel interjected, “Allow me.” Then he looked at her. “After you left, Dubois, uh, I mean Whedon, said he believes you still love him and—”

  “That fucking useless piece of—“

  “—but what I got from that is that he still loves you. If anyone can get close to him, it’s you.”

  That shut her up. She simply stared at Gabriel, unable to form a coherent sentence. Seconds passed, then she shook her head. No, Charles didn’t love her. If he did, he wouldn’t have betrayed her.

  “Here’s the plan: you’ll be the lead on the assignment. We’ll send you backup as soon as Quinn has changed the assignment roster and moved a few people around. In the meantime you’ll go and scope things out, assess whether they need to be relocated to a more secure location.”

  “They?” she asked.

  “Yes, he and his companion, a woman named Ilaria Dubois. She’s the one he wants protected twenty-four-seven.”

  Roxanne’s heart stopped. Charles had brought a woman? “Let me get this straight: you want me to protect Charles and his wife, and—”

  “We don’t know that she’s his wife,” Samson interrupted.

  “Oh, please!” Roxanne hissed. “Why else would he want her protected? And on top of that you want me to get close to him so he’ll tell me why he’s really here?”

  “That’s it in a nutshell.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that when he’s here with his fucking wife?”

  Gabriel looked at her calmly. “As Samson said, she’s probably not his wife. Or he would have said so. He called her his companion.”

  “I don’t care what he calls her!” Because now she was furious. Charles had a woman, whereas she’d never been able to trust another man enough to have a relationship. And offers she’d had plenty, but nothing had ended up lasting longer than a night. And now Charles showed up in her town, completely over her, and apparently willing to go out of his way to rub her nose in it?

  “Roxanne,” Gabriel said softly, more softly than this intimidating man should be able to. “You’re the only one who can get close to him. We need to know what he’s planning. If you want to get back at him for whatever he did to you, this is your chance. You’ll have our full support.”

  She looked into Gabriel’s eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She shifted her gaze to Samson and saw the same expression in his.

  “I’ll do it under one condition.”

  “Name it,” Samson said.

  “If it turns out he’s putting our world in danger with his actions, I want to be the one to kill him.”

  For a moment Samson was silent, contemplating her words. “If his actions warrant it… I’ll make sure you’ll be the one to dole out the punishment… whatever that may be.”

  She nodded. When it came to that, they’d finally be even, and she could lay her past to rest.

  4

  Charles checked the time again. When would they be here? Scanguards headquarters had called him, advising him that they were taking the assignment and dispatching the bodyguards he’d requested for Ilaria immediately.

  He’d already called down to the front desk of the corporate apartment he’d rented to make sure the people from Scanguards were sent up right away.

  When the knock sounded at the door, Charles straightened and took a deep breath, noticing that his ribs now felt completely normal, thanks to a healing spell and potion he had concocted after returning from his initial meeting at Scanguards. He had to hand it to Roxanne, she was no pushover. The only way to win her back would be with the truth.

  Showtime.

  Charles turned the door handle and pulled the door open. The sight of Roxanne took his breath away just as it had the previous night. For a moment, he drank in her features, then he pulled himself together and glanced down the hotel-like corridor.

  “You’re alone?”

  She walked past him and entered the apartment. “My colleagues are on their way.”

  He let the door snap shut and watched her studying her surroundings.

  “I don’t like it,” she said.

  “The apartment?” he asked. It was generic, bare, and definitely on the cold side. He’d had worse. And he wasn’t planning on staying here for long.

  Roxanne looked over her shoulder, one side of her lip pulled up in a derisive gesture. “It’s not secure.”

  “I chose it because it has a twenty-four-hour doorman.”

  She walked around the room, opening closet doors, looking out the window, and glancing at the hallway that led to the other rooms. “The front desk is a joke. I practically had to wake up grandpa down there. And there are multiple egress points that aren’t sufficiently secure. The gate to the garage could easily be breached by anybody on foot, and somebody with a little bit of technical knowledge could override the keyed entry system in the elevators, bypassing the lobby altogether.”

  Her assessment felt sobering, and he tried not to take it personally. After all, he’d survived for nearly twenty-three years with various powerful witches hunting him. His preternatural senses had always warned him in time when anybody wanting him harm was near. They’d compensated for his lack of traditional security training. But the words nevertheless felt like a put-down. Coming from the woman he still loved as fiercely as when he’d left her, it stung like a hornet.

  He tried to bite back a response, but couldn’t. “Just as well that I didn’t sign a long-term lease then.”

  A sound akin to a grunt came from Roxanne as she ambled into the open plan kitchen and examined the window over the sink.

  “It can’t be opened. Besides we’re on the fourteenth floor. Bit difficult to climb up here, given the outside is glass,” he said, still feeling he had to defend his choice of hiding place.

  Roxanne shot him a displeased look. “I’ve got eyes.” Then she marched out of the kitchen. “I think it’s time I met Ilaria.”

  He was slow to reply. There were things he needed to tell Roxanne before the two met, because the hostility Roxanne exhibited toward him could ultimately endanger them all. “I wanted to explain a few things first. While it’s just you and me.”

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Oh, I get it. You want to make sure that your wife doesn’t find out about our—”

  “My wife?”

  She bobbed her head in the direction of the doors along the hallway. “Ilaria. No worries, I have no intention of airing our dirty laundry.”

  “Ilaria isn’t my wife.”

  Roxanne shrugged, clearly not convinced. “Your girlfriend then. Or companion.” She might as well have made air quotes around the last word. “I don’t care what you fucking call her. Plaything maybe? Squeeze of the day?”

  “He calls me his niece.”

  At the words, Roxanne whirled around and stared at Ilaria, who now stood in the corridor. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, her lithe figure framed by long hair. Young and vulnerable, but not helpless. Her aura was shimmering in faint red tones, a sign that she was agitated.

  “And I call him uncle,” Ilaria added.

  “I asked you to stay in your room until I called for you,” Charles admonished, though he kept his voice calm and even, as he always did in her presence, particularly when anger was rising in her, wanting to burst to the surface. Only if he remained calm would he be able to help Ilaria find her equilibrium again.

  “You taught me to defend myself. That’s all I’m doing.” She looked back at Roxanne and took a few steps toward her. “You must be Roxanne.”

  Roxanne nodded, but her reply was stiff. “Ilaria.” When she turned and lo
oked back at him, he saw confusion in her eyes. “You never told me you had a niece. Or siblings for that matter.”

  “I was about to.”

  She scoffed. “A little late for that.”

  “It’s never too late for the truth,” he contradicted her, searching her eyes, but she turned away, denying him the connection he wanted to establish.

  “I need to check the rest of the place.”

  Ilaria pointed to the open door, still somewhat upset, though at least the color of her aura hadn’t turned a darker shade. Somehow she was holding it together. “That’s my bedroom. And this is Charles’s. The bathroom is accessible from both bedrooms.”

  Roxanne walked to Charles’s bedroom first, opened the door and walked inside. He knew what she’d find: a functional room without any decoration, the few things he possessed neatly hung in the too-large closet, his bed made.

  He didn’t follow her when she walked into the bathroom. Instead he walked to the open door of Ilaria’s bedroom and waited until Roxanne entered the room through the connecting door. Surprise registered on her face, because Ilaria’s room was nothing like his. It was decorated with loving care, with all the frills a young woman of twenty-three liked. Colorful and warm. Just like Ilaria herself.

  “It’s not real,” he felt compelled to say.

  Roxanne looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “Everything you see is an illusion.” He turned to Ilaria who’d sidled up to him. “Show Roxanne what the room really looks like.

  “Do I have to? I like it like this.”

  “Just for a moment,” he said, putting his hand on her forearm in reassurance. He was proud of her skills, though nobody except he ever got to see them.

  Sighing, Ilaria made a sweeping gesture with her arm, and the room turned into the same bland and sterile environment as the rest of the apartment.

  He could see that the display of witchcraft unnerved Roxanne, though she tried not to show it. Instead she looked at Ilaria, the question already leaving her lips. “Why do you do it?”

  Ilaria shrugged and made another sweeping motion with her arm, turning the room back to its former state. “So it feels like home.”

  “Just don’t get too comfortable,” a cold male voice coming from the living room warned.

  Shit! Ready for combat, Charles spun around, his arms raised to call the elements to help fight off the intruder, when he perceived the man’s aura. Slowly he lowered his arms and squeezed Ilaria’s arm to calm her, because she, too, had assumed a fighting stance, her aura turning darker.

  “You must be from Scanguards,” he said to the newcomer.

  Behind the tall bald vampire, another man appeared. He looked a little younger, though one could never tell with vampires since they didn’t age once they’d been turned. However, there was something different about the vampire with the dark hair and the youthful expression. His aura wasn’t the same as the bald one’s. In fact, he’d never seen such an aura before. Charles squinted. There was something human about him.

  “My colleagues,” Roxanne said from behind him, and Charles made space for her to exit the bedroom. She pointed to the bald vampire. “Zane.” Then she motioned to the dark-haired man. “And that’s Grayson.”

  As he and Ilaria followed Roxanne back into the living room, he noticed the displeased look on Zane’s face, while Grayson’s eyes seemed to be fixed on Ilaria. The young bodyguard ran his eyes over her, his lips parting in appreciation.

  “So Gabriel sent you.” Roxanne’s voice interrupted Charles’s observation.

  Zane snorted. “For obvious reasons.”

  Charles sensed the open hatred in the vampire’s demeanor. “Which are?”

  “I hate witches.”

  Ilaria gasped, and instinctively grabbed Charles’s arm for protection.

  To Charles’s surprise, Grayson stepped in front of Zane. “Don’t mind him. It’s nothing personal. He’s always like that.” He launched a charming smile at Ilaria. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

  Charles felt like growling. This young pup really thought he could get into Ilaria’s pants? His fatherly hackles rose at the thought, but at the same time he knew he was wrong to react this way. Even a father had to let go of his daughter one day, and after all, he was only her uncle. And Ilaria was old enough to make her own decisions now.

  When Ilaria released his arm, Charles slanted her a look and noticed that under Grayson’s admiring gaze her aura was suddenly glowing almost white. Pure. Good. Free of evil.

  “You’re not a vampire,” Ilaria said, curiosity animating her voice.

  “I’m a hybrid: half human, half vampire,” Grayson replied. “My boss figured you might need somebody who can act unrestricted during daylight hours.” He motioned to Zane and Roxanne. “Unlike pureblood vampires.”

  Charles nodded, appreciating the forethought. He’d heard of hybrids before, but had never encountered one. “And the fourth team member, when is he coming?”

  “This is it,” Zane stated.

  “I requested four bodyguards.”

  Zane’s jaw tightened. “I count as two.”

  “I should have guessed.”

  Zane narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, you should have.” Then he exchanged a look with Roxanne. “We’ve gotta move them.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the front door. “Piece of cake to open. And nobody heard us. Don’t even get me started about sleeping beauty downstairs.”

  “We’re on the same page,” Roxanne replied. She turned to Charles and Ilaria. “Pack your stuff, and let’s go.”

  ~ ~ ~

  While Ilaria and Charles packed their few belongings, Roxanne waited with Zane and Grayson. The few minutes she’d spent alone with Charles had already been more than she could handle. Why had she not stuck to her guns and told Gabriel and Samson that they could kiss her ass? But curiosity about Charles’s companion had swayed her. As if she cared whether or not Charles was in a relationship with somebody. As it turned out, he wasn’t. But she gained no satisfaction from that knowledge. Instead, it made her even more curious, when she should simply ignore him.

  “We’ll go in separate cars. It’s safer that way. I’ll take Ilaria,” she now said to Zane. “You and Grayson take Charles. We’ll meet at the safe house.”

  “Not a good idea,” Zane replied. “Gabriel specified that the girl is our charge.”

  “I’m more than capable of protecting Ilaria by myself,” Roxanne ground out between clenched teeth, not liking Zane’s insinuation.

  “I’m fully aware of that. But she’s better off with me and Grayson. You handle her uncle.”

  She braced herself for an argument. “You might be more senior in rank, but I’m the lead on this assignment. I make the decisions.”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t want to be alone with Charles.”

  Anger churned up inside her. She poked her index finger into Zane’s chest. “You keep your stupid remarks to yourself. I have no problems handling him.” It was a lie, but she’d be damned if she allowed Zane to back her into a corner. “Go ahead. You and Grayson take Ilaria.”

  She pivoted to look at Grayson, glaring at him. “And you’d better keep your dick in your pants.”

  Grayson glowered back. “What the fuck? I’m not—”

  “Aren’t you?” She narrowed her eyes. “Let me give you a piece of advice. Never trust a witch. It’ll only end badly.”

  Grayson opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t get the chance. Charles and Ilaria appeared, bags in hand. Shooting Roxanne a defiant look, Grayson sauntered toward Ilaria.

  “Let me take your bag,” he said, unleashing his devastating smile.

  “You go first, we’ll follow in my car in five minutes,” Roxanne instructed, nodding at Zane.

  Ilaria cast a questioning look at Charles.

  “It’s okay, Ilaria. Go with them. I won’t be far behind,” Charles reassured her.

  When the door fel
l shut behind the three, Roxanne continued staring after them.

  She heard him sigh. “Guess that means we have time to talk.”

  “We’ve got nothing to talk about.”

  “On the contrary.”

  She knew he was approaching her from behind even before she felt his hand on her shoulder. She tried to shake it off, but instead he gripped harder and turned her to face him.

  “I can feel your hostility. Even your colleagues can sense it. It’ll jeopardize this assignment.”

  Annoyance charged through her. “Are you questioning my professionalism?”

  “Not for a second, but you deserve to know the truth about what happened that night. It will make things easier.”

  “I know what happened that night. You abandoned me. End of story.” Even now, after twenty-three years, it still hurt as much as it had then. But she’d be damned if she’d admit this to Charles.

  “I had no choice.”

  She scoffed. “Oh please, spare me your excuses. I’m over you.”

  “I make no excuses for what I did that night. But I want you to hear me out.”

  The pleading tone in his voice made her heart constrict painfully. But she had to remain strong and not fall for his lies again. Because that’s all it would be: more lies to pacify her and to justify what he’d done. She turned back to the door and reached for the knob.

  “The night you and I were supposed to leave, my sister Melissa brought Ilaria to me. Ilaria was three months old. Melissa was being chased by witches who had only one goal: to kill her infant daughter, my niece.”

  Roxanne hesitated at his words.

  “Until that night, I didn’t even know that my sister had given birth. We hadn’t been in touch much. But she needed my help,” he continued, his voice soft and calm. “Ilaria isn’t just the daughter of a witch. She’s special. She was born with the mark.”

  Roxanne turned to look at him, her forehead furrowing. He had her attention now. “What mark?”

  “A birthmark that identifies her as a very special witch, one that will be more powerful and skilled than others. And therefore feared by those inferior to her. Witches of the mark have been hunted for centuries. There aren’t many left, and those who are, live in hiding. When Melissa realized that Ilaria had the mark, she tried to hide it, but word got out, and she had to go on the run. She came to me that night and begged for my help. Begged me to protect Ilaria.”