Guardian's Joy #3

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  She stepped out into a long, wide hallway with four doors to each side and another at the end that stood slightly ajar. There were stairs behind it that led to Hope’s apartment above. A television, the volume turned low, played in Faith’s room directly across the hall and she wondered for a minute if she should check on her, but decided against it. Faith wasn’t physically hurt and if the young woman was upset or angry, JJ would find out soon enough.

  To her left, a wide set of stairs led down to the main floor and JJ set off to investigate, her bare feet silent on the polished wood. She was amazed at how good she felt. Yesterday, she needed to be carried. Today, she could easily take the stairs two at a time. It was Faith’s doing. She wondered if the others knew about her talent.

  The stairs ended in a wide entry hall and an old fashioned parlor stood off to the left, empty but with a small fire burning in the hearth. To the right, more closed doors and while she was curious, JJ wouldn’t offend her hosts by peeking. She followed the hallway around the stairs and saw an open door to the right. She peeked around the doorframe and then stepped quietly into the room.

  Nardo sat in a high backed swivel chair in front of a computer screen that was last in a bank of six. It was covered with gibberish she assumed was code. His finger tapped out a constant beat on the tabletop and he was so intent on his work that he didn’t look up when she entered.

  This must be what Grace referred to as the War Room. A long conference table took up the center of the room, its dull surface marred by water rings, numerous nicks, a few gouges and a series of punctures confined to an area near the foot. Someone from the past had played with a knife while they listened or maybe used it to make a point. The edges of the slits were darkened with age so whoever made them had either grown out of the habit or moved on. There were nine chairs around the table with room for a half dozen more.

  By the placement of the chairs, JJ could imagine where everyone sat. The two side by side at the head were definitely Grace and Canaan. Two more at the foot were the obvious places for second in command and his mate, but JJ would wager that the pair of chairs closest to the head were for Hope and her mate while the pair at the foot was the old vampire's place as a courtesy to age and wisdom.

  The women had explained about Otto, Manon’s mate. The Guardian had suffered a violent death in a fight with a demon. They called it first death which resulted in ‘turning’ which was a nice way of saying the old guy had become a vampire, who Grace and Hope affectionately referred to as Uncle. They claimed he was perfectly harmless as long as he received regular doses of human blood from a blood bank. JJ knew they were telling the truth, but after seeing the torn throat of that poor young woman and the bloody fanged creature bending over her, she wasn’t taking any chances. There was no way she and the old man would be spending any time alone.

  Broadbent, who she’d only met briefly and couldn’t picture as a killer of anything, would sit beside Nico and Hope allowing the twins to sit together on the other side. Nardo would take the spot where a chair seemed to be missing. He’d use the wheeled chair he was currently sitting in to swing back and forth from table to screen.

  There was a large white screen on the far wall with a projector mounted to the ceiling that she knew was connected to the computers. The police department had purchased one and they’d all been endlessly reminded of the expense. She smiled at the incongruity of the old, sealed over fireplace sitting below the modern white touch screen.

  The long wall opposite the bank of computers held something she was much more familiar with. A huge paper map of the city covered three quarters of the available space. In the center, blown up still further, was a two by three foot section held in place with silver thumb tacks in the corners. Two blue and three red pushpins were seemingly placed at random. JJ knew they weren’t random at all. This was an incident map. She took a closer look and realized one of the red pins marked the spot where she had interrupted the vampire murderer.

  “That’s my girl,” she said aloud as she placed her finger on the red pin, “Who are these others?”

  “Shit!” Nardo spun in his seat and stared at her. “Where did you come from?”

  “I’ve been here for ten minutes,” she laughed and poked her chin at his screen, “Where have you been?”

  Nardo sighed and pushed himself away from the station. “Working on some code for my next game. I tend to get a little over involved when you put me in front of a computer console. Grace says if the place burns down I’m on my own because I’ll never hear the alarm and she won’t let anyone back in to rescue me. She’s not a big computer fan.”

  “Grace may not appreciate you, but Hope sure as hell does. She thinks you’re a genius.”

  “She’s my business partner. She has to say nice things about me.”

  In a motion so swift and smooth she barely saw it, Nardo rose from his chair, slid across the table on his butt and landed standing close beside her.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked with a half smile that added another level to the simple question.

  JJ took a step back. That smile and the soft intoxicating smell of him was too enticing. This must be a part of that vampire – and by their own admission, there was a vampire lurking in each and every one of them - enthrallment you read about in books. It was part of the way they mesmerized their women. All well and good for Grace and Hope if they were happy with it. They were both smart and strong, but became moony eyed and mushy at the mention of their mates. It wouldn’t happen to her. She knew better.

  “I was wondering about the pins,” JJ said and pointed again to the one marking the place where she’d found the girl and met Nardo, “I got this one. Please tell me the others aren’t related.”

  Nardo turned her toward him and her resolve disappeared; a wisp of fog blown away on the wind. She wanted to pull back, knew she should, but she just stood there and allowed him to lift her chin with his finger. He smelled so good and his lips looked so soft. Her lips parted and her eyes half closed when he brought his face down to hers. The brush of his lips was gentle and it made her feel soft and gentle inside. He didn’t press for more. Instead he pampered her lips with light, silky touches of his lips and tongue until he felt her respond. It was her tongue that invaded first and she felt his body tighten. Was that her moan when his tongue returned the exploration? His hands stayed where they’d started; one on her shoulder and one beneath her chin. She was touched by his tenderness and felt her body following when he pulled away.

  “The Guardians have it now,” he said soothingly, “There’s nothing for you to worry about. We’ll take care of it.” She’d want to go out and hunt and he was all too aware of where that could lead. She would have died if the twins hadn’t found her. He couldn’t let that happen again.

  Her eyes snapped open, breaking the trance or whatever the hell it was. Her lip curled back in a snarl. “Don’t worry your sweet silly head about it, you incapable twit. Is that what you mean? Because let me tell you, pal…”

  Incapable twit? Where had that come from? “No,” he answered. “That’s not what I mean. You’re too weak, that’s all. You’re with us now. There’s no need to put yourself in danger. I refuse to let you…”

  “You refuse to let me? Who the hell do you think you are? And what the hell do you think I am?”

  “Mine and I won’t risk losing you.” His face hardened and his fangs flared.

  His? “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, cowboy. And you can keep your information. I have my own sources. I don’t need yours.” JJ slammed the door behind her and ran into the twins who were standing outside in the hall blocking her way. She paused long enough to ask, “Where’s the phone? I need to call a cab,” before she pushed past. “Thanks,” she said when they pointed to the kitchen door.

  They watched until she pushed through the door and then Col snickered. “Looks like old Nardo screwed the pooch on that mission.”

  Dov’s face broke into a grin. “Yeah, and it loo
ks like that pooch is all he’s gonna be screwing for some time to come.”

  “Shouldn’t we tell her we brought back her car?”

  “Nah.” Dov hefted the large cardboard box he carried in his hands. “If we tell her about the car, we’ll have to drag all this shit back out again.”

  Chapter 15

  JJ snapped the cell phone shut and pounded her fist on the counter. What was she thinking? Call a cab? It was the middle of the night and twenty degrees outside. She had no coat, no shoes and no money. She couldn’t even give the dispatcher a friggin’ address. She had no idea where she was.

  Where were the women who claimed to be her friends? She was trapped here, trapped with that lunatic and those twins who dragged her here in the first place. Hadn’t they brought Grace and Hope here, too? Was that their job? To find witchy victims to fill the role of Vampire Bride?

  Of course not. It was ridiculous. Those women weren’t prisoners. Didn’t they talk about going shopping on Black Friday? Didn’t Grace drive to the grocery and Hope to business meetings? Didn’t they tease Manon about Otto insisting she use a car service? But maybe they were already brainwashed to return.

  JJ pulled out a stool at the huge granite island and sat with her head in her hands. She should go back out there and demand to be taken home. They must have known she couldn’t call a cab. That’s why no one followed her. It would be humiliating to admit her stupidity, but it would be worth it. She wanted to go home, away from here where people made her feel… where he made her feel… what? Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. She wanted to go home.

  “Please don’t cry. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can help.”

  JJ whirled in her seat, jumped up, slipped and almost landed on her ass. Otto’s large hands saved her.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He let her go and backed up a step, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “The women are across the alley at Hope’s house. Grace sent me to check on you, to see if there was anything you needed. She thought you’d still be upstairs. I’m Otto, but by your reaction, I guess you know that.”

  The old man took the kettle from the stove and began to fill it at the sink. “Can I make you a cup of tea? It always seems to help Grace when she cries. Manon prefers wine.”

  “I’m not crying,” JJ sniffed and then felt like a fool because of course, she was. “I don’t want tea. I want to go home.”

  Otto set the kettle back on the stove and turned on the burner. “Okay. I can probably arrange that. May I ask why? Has someone said something or done something to upset you? The twins, maybe? Because you need to know, they aggravate everyone. They don’t mean it. They just do it. They really have good hearts.” He brought out a teapot and a can of loose tea.

  “No. It wasn’t them. They haven’t done anything.”

  JJ wiped her eyes with her too long sleeves. Crap. She was still crying. More proof that she didn’t belong here. She never cried. Well, not since she figured out tears were a waste. They didn’t change anything.

  Otto held his hand in front of him and counted off where everyone was on his fingers. “Nardo? Nardo made you cry?” He pulled a paper towel from the roll and passed it to her. “Blow your nose,” he said.

  “The bastard,” she muttered into the towel before she blew.

  “What did he do? Tell me.”

  Otto sounded angry on her behalf. He didn’t even know her. He was a vampire for Pete’s sake. Why was everyone being so nice to her?

  “Tell me what he did,” the old man demanded.

  JJ didn’t mean to say it. She didn’t want to say it. It slipped out all by itself. “He kissed me,” she sniffed and damned if her eyes didn’t fill up again, “And I kissed him back and then he said I was his like he owned me or something.”

  “Ah, I see. And this is a problem because…?” And when JJ glared at him, he took a step back. “Let me go get Manon.”

  The kettle started to boil and still sniveling into her paper towel, JJ poured hot water into the pot to warm it before making the tea. At the commune, teas and infusions were brewed for every occasion and illness. She hated tea. While the pot warmed, she made coffee.

  It was already dripping into the pot when it hit her. At the commune, teas and infusions were brewed for every occasion and illness. She’d lived in a commune. She remembered choking on the word the day before.

  Shakily, she poured herself a mug of coffee.

  Grace, entering with the other two paint spattered women, tried to take it away. “Oh sweetie, you’re upset. You can’t drink that. It’s too strong.”

  JJ held the mug out of reach. “I’m a cop, uh, was a cop. If it smells vaguely like coffee, it’s drinkable.” She took a sip of the nasty brew. “Sorry to interrupt your painting. I’m fine. Otto took off before I could stop him.”

  “He said you were crying,” Hope said sympathetically. She brought out cups and saucers while Grace loaded a plate with cookies.

  “Yeah, sorry about that.” There was no use denying it. Her eyes and nose were red and swollen. Her face was blotchy. She’d checked it out in the glass door of the microwave. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I haven’t cried since I was fifteen.” The first and only time she’d been in love. And there it was again, a memory. She’d been in love at fifteen and it had made her cry.

  “It’s the House,” Grace said, “I never cried before I came here either.”

  “Me too,” Hope agreed.

  They looked at Manon who closed her eyes and raised her hand. “I did my crying when this place was still a wilderness.”

  “Oh come on,” JJ said, shaking her head not only in denial of Manon’s outrageous claim, but to keep from grasping at a straw of memory that was no longer there. “It may not be Paris, but this place hasn’t been a wilderness for three hundred years.”

  “Exactement,” Manon said seriously. She scratched a speck of paint from her nose, using the glass fronted cabinet as a mirror.

  JJ looked from Grace to Hope. “She’s kidding, right?”

  “Nope. Serious as a heart attack. She’s not sure of the exact date. Church records got burned.” Grace turned back to Manon. “You were saying?”

  JJ made a ‘T’ with her hands. “Time out! Back up! You’re telling me you’re three hundred plus? Gimme a break.”

  Manon did that Gallic shrug. “It is true. Believe it or not as you wish.”

  She wasn’t lying. “How?” JJ asked. She ran her hands up and down to indicate the Frenchwoman’s near perfect body and unlined face.

  “We Daughters are long lived to begin with and the mating with a Paenitentia extends our lives to… who knows? I know of no other bonding between Daughter and Paenitentia except what you see here, but I pray that when my Otto passes from this life, I will pass with him. We have already spent too many years apart.”

  “It is not this House that makes you cry,” Manon continued after another sip of tea, “It is the men who live in it. They open us up. They set us free.”

  JJ wasn’t buying it. “Blubbering like a baby doesn’t make you free. It just makes you a baby. It’s a weakness.”

  “For some, perhaps. For those who use their tears to manipulate their men. But for a strong woman like yourself, tears are an expression of strong emotion. They are the release of what you keep hidden inside.” And this child had much she kept hidden inside.

  Surely the old witch woman couldn’t know. “That’s not what happened.” Those memories were hidden from her, not by her. “I’m just overtired, still weak.” She waved her hands, back and forth, in front of her as if to erase what the others might be thinking. “It was a moment of weakness that’s all. It was no big deal and won’t happen again.”

  “So what did happen?” Grace braced her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. “I mean, since it was no big deal.” Her smile came very close to a smirk.

  “Nardo kissed me. I kissed him back. He said I was his, as in ownership. He said I was weak. He said he wo
uldn’t allow me.”

  “To do what?” Hope sat next to Grace with her hands folded in front of her like a good student or maybe a prosecutor.

  “I didn’t let him finish. He was going to say he wouldn’t allow me to fight demons or vampires or whatever this killer is.” She’d almost let herself fall for that kiss, almost fell under his thrall, almost sold herself into slavery.

  Grace and Hope exchanged glances and a silent agreement. Grace spoke. “So, let’s recap. Item number one: Nardo kissed you and you liked it. Really liked it or you wouldn’t be so ticked off. He said you were his and I’ll bet he used the word ‘mine’ in a very deep and growly voice.”

  “How did you know that?”

  Grace winked at Hope in a shared secret. “Because they’re Neanderthals. It may not be very romantic, but for them it’s a declaration of love.”

  “The man barely knows me,” JJ protested.

  “So? Canaan fell in love with me the first time he saw me wiggle my butt to the music on my radio.” Grace pointed her thumb at Hope. “Nico fell in love with her when she was drunk and disorderly in some lowlife bar.”

  Hope smacked Grace’s shoulder. “That’s not true!”

  “Close enough. Item number two: He said you were weak. Did he lie? You said the same thing not two minutes ago. Item number three: The ‘I won’t allow you’ business. You didn’t give him a chance to finish.” She raised her hands to forestall another protest. “Okay, okay, I’ll give you that one, but you have to understand that these guys are used to being all big, bad and bossy. Intimidation is their middle name. I usually pat the big guy on the head and tell him he’s such a cutie when he goes all alpha like that.”

  “When Nico says he doesn’t want me going out to business meetings alone, I say ‘Yes, sir’ and then tell him what time I’ll be home.”

  JJ had to laugh at that. Hope came across as meek and mild. Apparently that was only window dressing for her iron backbone.