by Of Night
Looking away from the mother, he gazed down at the child, at Richelle. She was looking up at him, her lower lip slightly trembling. He looked at her tiny hand lying in his palm—her hand was so delicate and frail. Yet when he looked back to her face, her eyes held no fear. Yes, her eyes were large as she gazed up at him, but he was a stranger to her and massive in comparison to her diminutive frame. He was a mountain, and he would move mountains to keep her safe. His life mate. His.
“My momma is gone.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement of fact, a statement that seemed so grown-up from such a small child.
“Yes,” he curtly replied, harsher than he should have, but he had no experience in dealing with a child. He didn’t want to frighten her, but nothing in his centuries of walking the earth had prepared him for this. She didn’t flinch. She simply stared at him as children do when they are fascinated, like watching a praying mantis walking on a leaf.
“She called you Guardian.”
“Yes.”
“Do I go with you now?”
“Yes,” he replied again. He didn’t have the words to comfort her. He didn’t have the strength. He was feeling very tired. He looked toward the horizon and saw the sky lightening with the approaching dawn. Turning back to Richelle, he watched her flaming hair fall forward as she kissed her mother’s cheek softly, like a fairy lights a kiss upon a child’s cheek.
“I love you, Momma,” she whispered softly as she stood and went to Valya, a single tear rolling down her cherubic cheek. He effortlessly picked her up. Her arms naturally curled around his neck as she buried her face in his shoulder, and with a whimpered sigh, she quickly fell asleep. He wrapped his duster around her to warm her against the early morning chill with his back to the rising sun.
He didn’t pick up the suitcase that lay open on the ground, the contents scattered about. He didn’t feel any remorse at leaving the body of the dead man on the ground. He had paid for his crimes with his life and sacrificed his immortal soul. But the feelings he felt at the death of Richelle’s mother as he gazed at her lying on the hard pavement ran the gamut from sorrow and regret to pride and humility.
Sorrow at the loss of such a powerful life spirit so young and before her time.
Regret at not having the time to know that wondrous spirit.
Pride at the unselfish sacrifice of her life for that of her child.
Humility at the trust she had placed in him by giving him her only child.
He could do nothing for her, but she had done everything for him. He could see color. He could feel emotions. She was the mother of his life mate and all he could do was leave her lifeless body behind for the police to find. It seemed so cold and heartless. He felt Richelle tighten her grip around him as she snuggled into the crook of his neck.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter into his frame, his duster wrapped protectively around her. She was a wisp of a child, no heavier than a baby bird, yet she had the strength to make him fall to his knees, willing to be subservient to her safety, willing to move mountains if that would make her happy. His heart was full and ready to burst. She was here, the part that would make him whole.
His long wait was not completely over. She was still a child, but girls grow up to be women. He had found his future life mate. The fates had smiled upon him and decided that his tapestry would become complete with the thread of life that he held in his arms. He would need to be patient a bit longer. He would have to wait until she was a woman to come to her. Until then he would continue his ways as a Guardian. He would defend the innocent and punish the evil.
Carefully, he tucked his precious passenger against his body and took to the sky. He inhaled her scent and absorbed the memory of it into his reborn soul. She needed a new home. She couldn’t be with him. Not yet. Not until she was ready. Until then, she must be protected, kept safe. She would not be safe if she stayed with him. He needed to take her somewhere where she would be sheltered and grow up healthy and happy. He would be close so he could watch over her as she grew until he could come to her as a man.
He knew where she should be, but not tonight. The dawn was coming too quickly. He needed to go to ground to replenish his depleted energy. He would take Richelle with him tonight. When he rose with the night, he would take her to her new home, someplace far from the city where the old priest could not find her. Someplace wonderful. Someplace beautiful to help her forget the ugliness she had seen in her young life. She would grow up happy and loved.
He would watch over her, always near when she needed him. When she was ready, a woman, he would come back and make her his forever.
* * * *
Richelle rubbed her eyes as she turned in the bed and pulled the comforter away from her face. There were sheers on the window, but she could tell that it was early evening as the sun was just sinking below the horizon. She saw the first evening star appearing in the dusky sky as if winking to her, ensuring her that everything was going to be all right.
She looked about the stark room. There was very little in furnishings—the bed where she was sleeping and a nightstand with a wind-up alarm clock and a kerosene lamp. On the wall across from the bed was a dresser with a round mirror. There were a few accessories that were indigenous to a young girl’s room—a small musical jewelry box, an antique silver vanity set with hand mirror, brush and comb, and a bottle of hand lotion.
In the corner was a cane-back rocker with a quilt folded up and draped over the back. More importantly, Molly was sitting on the seat of the rocker. Molly was her stuffed wolf. It was a special gift from her momma. They had moved to Detroit just before Christmas and Momma had not found a job yet. As a surprise, Momma had taken her to the zoo. Before they left, Momma had made a donation to the zoo by adopting a wolf. Richelle named her wolf Molly after her best friend she had left behind before moving to Detroit.
Just as she had left Molly behind when Momma woke her up and hurried them out of the house.
Before the bad men caught them.
Before Momma went away.
Before the man with the dark hair carried her away.
She wanted to cry. She didn’t know how Molly got here, but she got out of bed to grab her and hug her to her chest. She buried her face in Molly’s soft gray-white fur and inhaled. She smelled like Momma.
A soft tap on the door preceded the slow opening, and a kindly old man entered the room. He was big with white hair and a white beard in direct contrast to the giant man with dark hair and eyes and smooth face who had held her after Momma died. Richelle gazed at the man warily, hiding a portion of her face behind Molly, wishing her momma was here. Or at least the giant man who held her after Momma died. The man smiled at her, looking like the kindly grandfather from Heidi. Richelle looked up at him and tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. He understood.
“You shouldna be outta bed, little missy. ’Tis a bit nippy tonight. I didna have time to chop wood for a fire.” She giggled at his accent and gave him a coquettish smile. His strong baritone lilted through the room and wrapped around her like a warm blanket.
“Where am I?” she asked shyly.
He smiled warmly. “This is me home. ’Tis but a wee cabin in the mountains, but it is verra warm and big enough for a wee bairn like ye.”
“What’s your name?”
“Duncan. And yer name is Richelle.”
Her eyes grew wide, and she smiled. “How did you know?”
“Valya told me.”
“Who’s Valya?”
* * * *
Duncan walked over and picked her up off the floor so her feet wouldn’t get cold and carried her back to bed, tucking her in.
“Valya, the Guardian. He was the man who brought ye to me home. He is me good friend.”
Richelle settled back into the pillow but was smiling brightly.
“I know the Guardian. Momma told me about him. When she died, she put my hand in his. Where is he?”
Duncan took a deep breath. There was
so much she didn’t know about Valya and his people, so much that she needed to know, but not tonight. The years would stretch out before them and he would be able to teach her all that he knew, all that she needed to know. He had known Valya for a long time, since he came to Iron Mountain from his home in Scotland.
It was Valya who had helped him escape from his home in Scotland. Duncan had become a Vampyre hunter when one had taken his beloved wife. The first thing he had done was kill the very Vampyre who had murdered her. However, it was too late to save his wife, as she had taken her first blood victim. Duncan had no choice but to save her soul and drive a stake through her heart as she slept. Since that fateful day when he had to destroy his love, he had dedicated his life to fighting evil.
Duncan had sent many a Vampyre to the fiery hell they deserved. His last battle in Scotland was against three Vampyres who had joined forces to find and destroy him. Duncan was losing until Valya arrived. Valya had been drawn to Scotland by the combined energies of the Vampyres. The final battle had been intense, and Duncan was critically wounded. Valya brought him to Iron Mountain, Michigan, to nurse him back to health. Later when he had recovered, Duncan stayed on Iron Mountain as it reminded him of his beloved highlands.
Duncan’s home became a sanctuary for Valya. While he never returned to Vampyre hunting, Duncan helped Valya in many other ways. He was a confidante, a doctor, a researcher, a teacher, and now a nursemaid. Valya had brought the small child to him earlier this evening after taking her to ground with him. They slept the entire day in Valya’s cavern home and yet he could still see the need for sleep in her eyes. She had been through much and needed her rest.
Tonight was not the night to talk to her about the Immortal race. Or to tell her why her mother had died. Or to tell her of her destiny with Valya. There would be more than enough time to help her understand. Valya would keep his distance and watch Richelle from afar. He would come back one day, and then together, they would fight the Evil One, the most ancient of all Vampyres. This was the most important job he had ever held in his life, protecting Valya’s life mate.
“Valya had to leave. He has a verra important job.”
“Will he come back soon?” she asked with earnest childlike innocence.
“One day he will, little missy. Until then, ye will be safe with me. The men who took yer mother away will not find ye here.”
A fat tear pooled in her eye as she clutched Molly closer to her heart, inhaling the scent of her mother.
“My momma is really gone.”
His heart clutched at the pain in her trembling voice. So young to have suffered so much.
“Aye, little missy. She lives with the Goddess now.”
“You know about the Goddess?”
“Aye, I know of her. I know of yer family. And I know of Valya. And I will tell ye all I know. But tonight, tonight ye must get yer rest.” He pulled the comforter up under her chin and bundled her safe and warm. “I have a verra long time to teach ye about yer destiny, what the Goddess has fated for ye. But ye have a verra little time this short night to sleep.”
Richelle nodded and curled into a fetal position, holding Molly close to her heart. In the blink of an eye, she had fallen back asleep, as soundly as if she had never been awake. Duncan reached out and smoothed the hair away from her face. An exquisite beauty for such a young child, but her hair was the most striking feature. It held two tones; blond on top while the length of it was a vibrant red. The first thing he planned to do was change the color of her hair to hide her identity. Later, after she had learned how to use her powers to protect herself she could wear her hair naturally.
Duncan stood and closed the drapes over the sheered windows. Come the morning, the sun’s rays would not wake her. She could sleep late. Tomorrow they would get to know each other; he would show her around her new home and walk for a while in the mountains. Then, her education would begin.
* * * *
Valya came to Iron Mountain when he could, to see Richelle and secretly observe her growing up in love and in the safety of the mountains. Each year at her birthday, when the moon was full, he would come and silently watch her from the window. Duncan would see, winking and offering a silent invitation to come in and join them. He always refused. He would only visit her in the form of a wolf, ironically, to avoid the bestial nature inbred in Immortal males.
When he came to her, he felt her emotions, her need for something to fill the emptiness within her. He offered her peace and protection, but never as Valya the Guardian. She seemed more at ease with the animals of the forest. He rarely found her at the cabin. She was usually walking in the mountains when he felt her mind calling out to him. He would find her sitting in the meadow, the animals of the forest coming out of hiding to sit with her, keeping her company. They sat together in peace. The deer, rabbit, skunk, owl, even a gray timber wolf sitting peacefully together basking in the warm glow of early evening as the moon was beginning to rise.
He remembered vividly the last time he saw her.
She was beautiful, a picture of serenity surrounded by the beasts of nature. The sun struck her hair, with its unusual coloring. He remembered her hair as two-toned—blond and auburn—but she hid her hair of fire behind brunette coloring, rich and chocolaty like her mother’s had been. She cocked her head to the side as if in conversation with the fawn that sat beside her. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, still the pale sea foam green from her youth that had captivated his heart.
A soft breeze wafted around her, catching the scent that was uniquely her. His nostrils flared as her scent permeated his mind, sending him reminiscing to when he carried her in his arms to his cavern home and kept her with him until night had fallen and he could bring her safely to Duncan and this mountain oasis. She was still a child, not ready to become his life mate. He transformed himself into the large timber wolf and sauntered into the meadow to sit beside her. The other creatures eyed him warily, recognizing the man within, but moved aside as he entered the clearing to have a seat beside Richelle. She looked over and placed her hand upon his head, petting him lightly and crooning to him.
“Well now, where did you come from?” She opened her mind, but he gave her no response as usual. The silver-gray beast just rubbed his head against her thigh, encouraging her to stroke along his back. He tried to be content in just being beside her. She was taken aback. Never before had she run across a beast who she could not reach with her mind, whose thoughts she could not read.
Valya was very careful to shield his thoughts from her. He had heard her in his mind, had felt her probing to communicate. Her openness had almost broken down the walls he had built around his heart waiting for her, waiting until she became a woman. Even now, resisting her pure aroma was challenging. Its scent was changing. Her virgin’s blood flowed with the start of her menstrual cycle. She was becoming a woman, his woman. For the present, she was nothing more than a mere child, innocent, chaste, and unaware of all the danger the world held for her.
Her hand drifted to his chest. She began to rake her nails through his soft fur to reach his skin. It tingled where her fingers touched him. No longer able to sit idly by her side, he ran to the woods, the distance doing little to abate the call of her blood. He stopped at the edge and looked back to Richelle, standing on her feet and reaching out toward him.
She called after him, but he quickly trotted into the forest. He could feel her confusion, her vexation at not being able to talk to him. He turned away, vowing not to return until she had reached her twenty-first birthday. By then, Duncan could teach Richelle what she needed to know about Immortals and Vampyres and the true reason behind her mother’s death. Duncan and Valya had agreed to tell Richelle when she graduated and then Duncan would teach her the rest.
Years had passed since then. He continued to serve as Guardian, staying far from Iron Mountain, but this night, he could feel there was something wrong with the fabric of fate. He arose from his cavern home and lifted his head to the sky. The scent
of death was carried on the night wind. That was not new to him since, as a Guardian, it was his duty to seek out this evil and to protect the innocent. Tonight, the moon had turned to blood and there was a force that was calling him, drawing him from the city.
In a flash he knew where he needed to be—with Richelle.
He took to the sky, and in a blink of an eye, he was at Duncan’s cabin. Or what was left of it. From the look of things, there must have been one hell of a battle. The repugnant smell of blood and rotting flesh was akin to the war he had fought centuries before. Filled with rage and disgust, he searched for Richelle.
Valya scanned the clearing. The carcasses of several wolves, two mountain lions, and a black bear were decaying, their throats ripped out and gaping wounds at their sides. The ground was torn asunder, the sod and plants uprooted and thrown about. His eyes scanned the landscape for any sign of movement. There was a peculiar, creepy silence unnerving him, and the door had been left wide open. Stepping through, he looked about to find no one there.
Where was Duncan? And where was Richelle? He returned to the clearing and sniffed the air and the ground for any trace of Duncan or Richelle. He found Duncan’s. It was far away.
Valya transformed into the wolf and began the chase, following Duncan’s scent to a river three miles from the cabin where he lay dying. Transforming as he approached, Valya crouched down on one knee to turn Duncan’s limp body over. Duncan was clinging to life, the flame within him slowly dying, yet he smiled in genuine happiness.
“It is good to see ye, me friend. I dinna want to leave this world without saying farewell.”
“Save your strength, Duncan. I will take you back and heal you.” He leaned over to pick him up, but Duncan shook his head and gurgled.