He couldn’t pull the body away. Nico was locked with the demon. The Guardian wouldn’t let go. Broadbent and Nardo stepped up to help. They tugged and lifted and finally broke him free when the demon’s body began to disintegrate. Nico’s hands were locked over the blade, one hand on the hilt, the other one grasping the blunt side of the blade. He’d positioned it so the force of the fall would severe the demon’s neck.
Chapter 43
She didn’t know how far they’d walked, probably only blocks, but it felt like miles. She kept hoping to find a main road she recognized or a store where she could use the phone to call home. All she saw were darkened houses or apartment buildings and shops closed for the night. She was so tired. She half carried Faith, supporting her weight with her arm and urging her to keep moving. She wanted them as far away as possible from the monster.
Hope steered them into the recessed doorway of a small office building. She had to rest. Adrenaline had carried them this far, but it wouldn’t carry them much farther. She settled Faith into one corner and sank down into the other. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she began to draw the pattern with her finger, weaving the tendrils of air and energy into the intricate design. She needed whatever power and strength it could give her and would willingly pay for it later. She could feel it seeping into her and something else as well. Startled, she opened her eyes to watch Faith weaving the pattern in the air. Her finger moved, slowly, awkwardly, but the design was the same. It was the first sign of awareness her sister had shown. She reached over to give her sister the hug she hadn’t had time to give until now.
There was a pain in her chest and her mind was filled with Nico.
“Oh, God,” she cried silently, putting all her heart into the prayer. “Please don’t let him turn. He’s not like Otto. He’ll see it as proof that he’s undeserving. He’s punished himself all these years. He’s suffered enough. Take me if you must. He said he’d march into Hell to bring me back. I’ll gladly do the same. Send me to Hell in exchange for his soul. And if you can’t save him, send me with him. Please!” Nico wasn’t her first love, he was her only love and without him, she couldn’t go on.
“Nico! Nico, my heart, my love, don’t go! I can’t do this alone, won’t live without you! Nico!”
The jolt to her heart was like a strike from a Taser. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. How odd that in a moment of pain, she should feel truly blessed. Nico!
*****
“Nico! Nico, my heart, my love, don’t go! I can’t do this alone! Nico!”
He thought she must be calling to him from Heaven, knowing he was bound for Hell. This was first death and he was going to be turned. It didn’t matter. Canaan would do what needed to be done. He wasn’t like Otto. He had nothing to live for. Hope was his heart and soul and if she was gone, he had lost the most precious thing he’d ever been given. He had lost his Hope. He’d promised to march into hell for her and if he thought God would bargain with someone like him, he’d gladly pay that price. But God had forsaken him a long time ago. Hope had bound his bleeding heart and made him believe all things were possible. She’d been the source of his redemption and now she was gone. Hope!
A pain pierced his heart; a white hot blaze that lasted only a second and filled him with a fleeting moment of joy and then it was gone. Could this be what turning felt like?
And then a picture flashed into his mind. Hope!
Nico’s eyes snapped open and he grabbed Nardo’s shirt collar using the same strong grip he’d used on the blade.
“Go get them,” he whispered. His voice held none of the strength of his hands. He’d barely finished giving the location when Nardo was on his feet and running for the car. Otto tossed him the keys.
“He’ll be all right.” Canaan’s relief was evident. “Let’s get this place cleaned up and get out of here,” Canaan began directing, “Otto, Col, go back to Smith’s and pick up the junker. Bring it back here so we can load up Nico and get him home. You can take Manon home as well.”
“Me, too,” Grace chimed in.
“No.” Canaan meant it to be just as sharp as it sounded. “You’ll stay with me. Right next to me where I can keep you out of trouble. And when we get home, I‘m going to…”
“Ooo, pink hand cuffs and paddles? I can’t wait!” Grace stood on tip toe to kiss him on the lips. She left him sputtering to follow Dov into the house.
“You can’t win, son. I don’t know why you keep trying,” Otto laughed and offered a quick salute as Col revved the engine of the Honda. “A good woman will getcha every time.”
*****
“Ma’am? Ma’am!”
Hope didn’t register the voice or that it was referring to her until Faith fingers halted at the voice’s command.
“Ma’am, stop!”
There was a light in her eyes, so bright she held up her hand up to prevent it blinding her. She heard a car door open and shut and then a figure was standing in front of her blocking the light.
“Holy shit, Mike, douse the light and get over here.”
With the glare of the light away from her eyes, Hope finally saw the cop, a woman, standing in front of her. The officer reached out to touch Faith and Hope felt her sister recoil.
“Don’t touch her. Please. She’s been hurt and she’s afraid. Just let me take her home.”
“I can see she’s been hurt and you’re not looking too good yourself. Mike, I need some help here.”
The other officer walked around the car to stand beside his partner. He looked Hope and Faith over for less than a second. “I’m calling an ambulance, JJ.”
“No, please. We’ll be all right once I get my sister home.”
“You want to tell us what happened to her?” The woman gently took Hope’s free hand in her own. “We can help you. I’m Officer Justice.”
At the officer’s touch, warmth and strength flooded through her. Hope knew this was someone she could trust.
“A man happened to her, an evil man.” Hope looked into the woman’s eyes and knew she understood. “I’ve been searching for her for weeks and tonight I found her.”
“And the man?” The officer held Hope’s eyes the same way she held her hand, with warmth and strength.
“It’s over.”
The officer nodded as if she understood that, too. She started to speak, but the screech of an SUV’s tires as it came to a skidding halt distracted her.
“Shit,” Nardo greeted them; running his fingers through some loose strands of hair and tucking them back into his ponytail. “I’ve been up this street twice looking for you. If I hadn’t found you, Nico would have turned me.”
Hope choked on the sudden tears that clogged her throat and flooded her eyes.
“Nico? The demons didn’t kill him?” she cried. Her relief overrode her good sense. She realized her mistake immediately and her hand went to her mouth.
“Nah, made a good try though,” he answered as if they always spoke of demons in front of humans. He turned to the male cop and crooked his finger. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Mike followed him over to the police car and Hope saw him lightly touch his thumb to the cop’s forehead. The officer got in the car and began to write in his notebook. Nardo returned and winked at Hope.
“What do you mean, demons?” JJ asked, her hand moving to her holster.
Quick as lightning, Nardo’s thumb was at her forehead and the muzzle of her gun was pointed at his gut. They both took a cautious step back.
The officer slowly took the Guardian’s measure and then glanced at Hope.
“You say you know him?”
“He’s a friend.”
“One of the good guys?”
“One of the best of the good guys.”
The officer brought her attention back to Nardo. “You’re going to see to it they get the attention they need?”
Nardo raised three fingers like a Boy Scout and smiled his most charming smile. “I swear it.”
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Officer Justice took another step back and slowly holstered her gun. “Good. Then we’ll just pretend we never met.” She walked to the police car, paused and turned back to Nardo. “Don’t always assume the male is the greater threat.” She brought her finger to the brim of her hat in a friendly salute. “You be careful out there.”
“I’ll be damned,” Nardo said as the car pulled away.
“You’ll be more than that if you don’t get us home. I need to see Nico and get my sister settled.” It had been a long night and it was good to be going home.
Otto and Manon were in the garage waiting for them. Faith was back in her near catatonic state and showed no resistance when Nardo lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house. Manon immediately took charge.
“Take her up to the yellow room,” she said to Nardo and to Hope, “There is a tray of supplies already there. The clinic is too public a place and she needs to know her privacy will be protected here.” She took Hope’s hand in hers and squeezed it reassuringly as they followed the men up the stairs. “We will bathe her and assess her wounds, make her comfortable. She may need a hospital and if so, we will make arrangements, but for now, we will let her rest, let her sleep. Come, you too look exhausted. Tomorrow night, after you and Grace have rested, we will try to work on her mind”
“Nico?”
Manon flicked her free hand in disgust. “He is a fool. He would let no one help him until Nardo called to say you were safe and then he graciously allowed us to help him to his room where he snarled at us to go away. You have your work cut out with that one. He will heal and he will have scars as payment for his stubbornness. For one so worldly and urbane, he is more modest than you, Miss Priss.”
Poor Nico, still ashamed of his scars. “Don’t be hard on him, Manon. He has his reasons.”
Nardo set Faith down and she stood where he left her. Manon ignored the fact that her eyes didn’t check out the room and she showed no recognition that the men had left. Here she was alone with her sister and an older woman she’d never seen before, yet she didn’t even look curious. The Frenchwoman spoke from the bathroom where she started the water running.
“I am Manon, ma petite, and we will become great friends. You have suffered greatly, but your sister, Hope, and I are here now where you will be safe and protected. Here,” she said when she returned to the bedroom, “Let’s get you out of these clothes.” She laughed a little and it sounded perfectly natural. “I can see who chose this outfit. Hope is a wonderful woman, but she has no taste in dress.”
Hope stood staring with her hand pressed to her mouth and tears filling her eyes. How could Manon ignore the cuts and bruises that covered the greying skin, the heaviest on her inner thighs? Every bone in Faith’s body showed clearly. She’d always been small, petite, but her weight was proportionate with her height. Now, she looked like the pictures Hope had seen of the survivors of Nazi camps. Her dark brittle hair showed signs of grey.
Manon sat Faith in the bath and began to wash her with scented soap. Candles burned along the vanity, reflecting their light in the mirror and adding to the serenity. The Frenchwoman murmured softly while she worked, telling Faith about the people who lived here, the renovations that were almost complete and all the mundane things of their life in this House of Guardians. Faith’s shoulders visibly relaxed as Manon worked shampoo into her hair. From her knees by the tub, the older woman looked up at Hope and smiled.
“Why are you still here?” she laughed softly. “Faith and I will be fine and you have a man that needs seeing to. I have left a tray of things in the hall to dress his wounds. He will not be so modest with you.”
“Thank you, Manon, Thank you for everything. Without you and Grace…”
“And the heroic Joseph who we must generously reward. Yes, yes, it was an adventure we will not soon forget.” She shooed with her hand. “Go. We can talk of it later. Go to your man.”
Chapter 44
Nico lay unmoving under the covers pulled to his chin. His eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted. His hard chiseled jaw was softened in sleep and the corners of his mouth curled slightly upward giving the illusion of a smile. His hair, normally pulled back into a short, severe tail was fanned across the pillow and Hope was reminded once again of the boy who became the man. A small glass bottle and a pile of bloodied gauze lay on the carpet. He’d treated his own wounds rather than expose his back to the others.
He looked so peaceful lying there. He obviously wasn’t in pain and she decided not to wake him. Rest and sleep often did the job where medicine could not. She’d get her shower first and then check his wounds for any demon infection he may have missed.
She headed for the bathroom, picking up his dirty clothes as she went. The strewn clothing was a sign of his exhaustion. He was always so very careful of his things. She watched him again to make sure he wasn’t showing any signs of discomfort.
She was half asleep herself when she finally stripped off her clothes and stood beneath the pounding heat of the shower. She soaped with her eyes closed and only opened them long enough to find the shampoo bottle and again for conditioner. She was so tired; she wanted to stand there until the water ran cold.
She dried herself in the same sleepy daze, going through the motions without paying attention. It wasn’t until she wiped the steam from the mirror and started to dry her hair that she saw it.
Her eyes snapped open, wide awake and alert. She watched her reflection in the mirror reach up and touch the tiny white rose above her left breast and then looked down to check reality against reflection.
She was mated. There was no fancy gown, no ritual escort to the church, no beseeching the blessing, no fiery piercing of her heart; none of the things Grace told her about. When had it happened? And if she was mated, didn’t that mean…?
She wrapped a towel around her and went to Nico. He was just as she’d left him. She crawled up on the bed next to him and sat back on her heels. Slowly, so as not to wake him, she pulled the covers back and there it was, another tiny white rose, a match for her own, amidst the white lilies above the skull and tears. Hope kissed her fingertip and placed it on the delicate bud.
Nico’s eyes opened.
“You’re back.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“And you’re all right?” He was worried now. Why wouldn’t she speak?
She nodded again.
He sat up, concerned. “Precious, what is it?”
She used one finger to pull the towel down enough to show him the mark.
“Oh, shit,” he whispered and he reached out to lightly touch the rose with the pad of his middle finger. The rose was so tiny, it was almost obscured.
She mimicked his gesture, placing her finger over the rose on his chest.
“When? How?” He frowned and then his eyes lit with the knowledge. “When I fell. I thought the pain in my heart was my first death. I didn’t understand why it came with such joy and then I saw you and you were all that mattered.”
“When you fell, I felt it. I prayed, Nico. I asked Him to take me instead or at least let me go with you.” The tears started. “If you were right and your soul was doomed to Hell, I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“Oh, precious, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“I wanted to do this right, for you. I wanted you to have the ceremony, the celebration. I wanted it to be a dream come true. I want to give you everything you desire and deserve.” He knelt in front of her and held her hands.
“I never dreamed of a wedding, Nico.” It was true. “Isn’t that odd? I dreamed of a husband, a mate, and the children we would have together, but I never dreamed of a wedding.” She released her hands from his and placed one on his chest and one on her own. “What we pledged in our hearts is all we need and these are the proof.”
“My precious Hope,” he whispered, his voice deep and gravelly with emotion.
The way he held her face in his hands the way
his eyes bored into hers was in no way new, yet the roses over their hearts made it new.
As if he’d never kissed her before, he brought his lips to hers, softly, tentatively, as if he thought she might pull away. She didn’t. She kissed him back and opened her mouth to him, inviting him in, telling him with her lips and tongue that this was the way it was meant to be. Their roses were proof they’d been blessed with this love.
He broke the kiss and held her away and slowly unwrapped the towel. He stared at her for the longest time; the fullness of her figure, the softness of her form, the invitation of her lips, the kindness of her eyes, and the tenderness of her heart. She was the embodiment of everything he thought was beyond his reach. She was his Hope.
“You’re mine,” he said, “Forever.”
She no longer blushed at his perusal. In his eyes she was beautiful and that made it real. Her smile was secret and seductive as she ran her finger over his chest. She traced the lilies in full bloom and the banner ribbon with the words ‘Paenitet Me’ – I Repent, written in script. Her nail followed the lines of the black skull and the pad of her finger touched each tiny red teardrop. These were the symbols of his calling as a Guardian. The skull was his willingness to die for his vocation and the tears for the blood he would shed, not only for the Paenitentia, but for her. Lastly, she kissed the tiny white rose that matched the one above her left breast.
“I’m yours, but not forever.” She leaned forward and kissed the white rose. “Not until this little blossom is red.” She rose on her knees and pressed her body against his.
Nico’s erection, already full and straining, swelled even more with his longing. He kissed her again and laid her gently down against the pillows. His lips moved over her eyes and cheeks and neck, down to her breasts, lavishing each with his attentions until they were heavy and swollen and her nipples tightly pebbled with pleasure and need.
Hope ran her fingers through his hair, gripping handfuls of the silky strands when his teeth scraped against her nipple before sucking it deeply into his mouth. She opened her mind and sent her love skimming across the bridge.
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