The Guard

by Harri Aburrow-Newman

  “Don’t go.”

  The words leapt from my mouth before I could stop them, and Ysabel flinched. I jumped off of the bed and crossed to her, looping my arms around her waist from behind and resting my forehead on her shoulder.

  “Please don’t go.” My voice caught as she turned her head, resting her cheek against my hair.

  “I have to. You know that.”

  “No. A slayer could go instead.”

  She sighed, a shudder running through her,

  “We’ve been through this, Beth. I don’t want to go, I don’t want to leave you,” she swallowed hard, “but the likelihood is that Archer is here in the UK, or in America. We need to cover both.”

  A low growl rumbled through my chest and I pulled away, pushing my hands into my hair.

  “I know that. I do. I just…” I cast about for the words I wanted, but Yzzy stopped me, reaching up to move my hands away from my hair, and linking our fingers together. She leaned in and pressed her lips to mine, pulling back for a brief moment, before looping her arms around my waist and kissing me again. She caught my lower lip in her teeth, tugging gently, and the band around my chest loosened under a bittersweet storm of desire. I moaned slightly, welcoming the flood, and opened my mouth to her. She slipped her tongue between my lips, moving it with slow, luxurious strokes, and tightened her arms around me. I could feel her heart beating fast against my chest. I stepped back, and she loosened her grip so that I could grab her hand and lead her to the already rumpled bed.

  The next morning, Yzzy and I lay facing each other, legs tangled together under the duvet; she had one hand resting lightly on my hip as I traced soft swirls and patterns up her arm with my fingers, and a small smile curved her lips at the feeling. I stared at her face in sections, from the slight curl of her long eyelashes against her cheek, to the perfect cupid’s bow of her mouth, to her high cheekbones and the slight cleft in her chin. I exhaled a slow breath, trying to calm my conflicting emotions. Yzzy opened her pale jade eyes, a question in them as they looked straight into mine. I stopped making circles on her arm and ran one finger down her cheek instead, feeling my heart flutter,

  “you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I spoke directly into her mind, needing the intimacy of that private connection. She huffed a small laugh through her nose and pushed me onto my back, rolling on top of me as she did, and captured my mouth in a deep kiss. I could still taste myself on her tongue, and groaned as I summoned a level of self control that I rarely forced myself to access, breaking off the kiss before we lost ourselves again. Yzzy acknowledged my efforts with a sad, mental caress and another, more chaste, kiss.

  “we’ll be together again soon, ma chérie.” She whispered into my mind,

  “I know.” I sighed, “it doesn’t make it any easier though.”

  She grimaced, not needing to answer that, and sat up, glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

  “My flight leaves in an hour,” she spoke aloud now, drawing her mind gently away from mine, “I need to go.”

  My heart clenched again, but I stayed where I was, watching her get dressed quickly. We had agreed that I would stay in the flat when she left, and she was taking a privately chartered flight, courtesy of the IGS, that included her own cabin. Our past experiences of splitting up had taught us that it was best to be alone at the point that we couldn’t sense each other anymore, particularly as we had no desire to let anyone know that we were bonded. There had also been a few times when instinct had taken over completely, and we had ended up flying back towards each other without any conscious thought, hence why this time, Ysabel was going on a plane. She was ready far too soon, and dithered, searching fruitlessly for some way to drag the moment out. I grabbed a dressing gown from where it was pooled on the floor next to the bed, knotting it tightly around my waist, and went towards her.

  “We’ll be fine,” I said, a little proud that my voice didn’t shake and betray my apprehension.

  “I know”, Yzzy replied, looking downcast. She kissed me once more, just a slight brush of her lips against mine, then was gone before I could take another breath. I stood, rooted in place, as she closed the French doors behind her and the bond between us began to stretch. Imperceptibly for now, but still I imagined I could see it, getting thinner and thinner as she flew away from me. I took short, fast breaths, already fighting my instincts, roaring at me to go after her.

  After ten minutes, I returned to our bedroom and lay down once more on the bed. I touched our bond every few seconds, obsessing over it, trying to commit the sense of it to memory, while I waited with an ever-growing sick feeling in the pit of my stomach for it to disappear. Eventually, I could detect it growing weaker, and I shifted with a throat wrenching growl, my wings forcing my back to arch sharply, and shredding the sheets beneath me. I half-lifted off of the bed, before forcing myself down again, grunting with the effort of battling age-old conditioning. Pressure began to build in my head and chest as Yzzy got too far away for me to easily reach, then all at once, my awareness of her disappeared completely. I cried out as lightning bolts of agony ricocheted around my body, and my heart stuttered, its beats wild and irregular. My lungs bubbled as I sucked in a painful breath, and I rolled over, coughing, and tasted my own blood. I vaguely registered slipping off the bed as my vision went black, seizures ripping through every muscle, until I eventually, thankfully, lost consciousness.

  I woke too soon, my body rapidly healing the destruction caused by the near-severing of our bond, although I still felt like my head was in a vice and that I had several broken ribs. And I was all too aware that it would only get worse, the longer we were apart. Sighing, I dragged myself up, scowling at the spots of blood now adorning the cream carpet, and headed for the shower. In the spirit of getting this over and done with as soon as possible, I had arranged to have my initial meeting with the captain I was to be working with this afternoon. In hindsight, it was probably not the best idea I’d ever had. I swallowed another growl with a sharp shake of my head, trying to bully myself into a better frame of mind.

  A hot shower, half a bottle of whiskey, and several clove cigarettes later, and I was feeling marginally more able to deal with the task at hand. I lit another cigarette as I strode out of our block, heading for my rarely used car. It took a lot for any kind of drug to influence my extreme metabolism, but even the briefest effect was better than nothing. Although, I remembered with a scowl, I never had gotten used to the stale tobacco smell that permeated everything. My car started first time, and I was soon zipping down country lanes, taking the longer, but infinitely more interesting route to Hereford, hoping in vain that a little more time and distraction would settle my mind.

  Chapter 5

  Michael

  SAS headquarters, Hereford.

  I had been sitting in the small meeting room for nearly an hour, and was starting to get extremely frustrated. My foot was tapping underneath the table as I huffed out yet another sigh. I had been dragged out of my leave, and halfway across the country and now, as usual, the bigwigs had decided that the meeting time was just a suggestion. I closed my eyes and let my head drop forward, breathing deeply and trying to remember the bigger picture. I had been told that I was to command a squadron of specially chosen soldiers. Selected from across the entirety of the UK forces, they were the best of the best, and were to be the turning point in the war against the vampires.

  This was the first time that any real developments had occurred in the war; up until now it had mostly been a slaughter, with the vampires often swooping in in huge numbers and butchering entire units in a matter of minutes. Only the smaller raids on nests, usually carried out by the SAS, had yielded positive results. But the memory of my own squadron’s most recent, disastrous raid still rang hollowly in my mind. No other raids had taken place since that one. We had retreated to a defensive stance.

  The door opened, finally, and I jumped to my feet. Snapping a salute as two officers I didn’t recognise came in
to the room, they sat and gestured for me to do the same.

  “Captain Beck, sorry for the delay, we had some other duties to attend to.” The elder of the officers, a major, addressed me and then folded his hands on the table, looking like he was trying to work out how to continue.

  “Are you aware why you’re here today, captain?”

  “No sir, not entirely. I have been informed that I’m to command a special unit, but not exactly why you wished to see me today.”

  “OK. We’ve called you in to explain the reason behind creating the special unit and to introduce you to the civilian who will be assisting you.” He held up one hand to cut off the question forming in my mouth, “I know that you will have questions, but I would appreciate it if you would withhold them until we have explained everything. The civilian in question is an expert on the vampire plague and may have the knowledge to turn this war completely around. But I must warn you that she is young, and, well, a she. That is why I have to come to talk to you beforehand, I will not have anyone disrespect this woman, she has proved unequivocally that she could be extremely useful to us. You will heed her advice and you will not offend her, understand captain?”

  He gave me a piercing look and I tried very hard to adopt a facial expression that showed that offence was the last thing on my mind,

  “Of course not, sir. I will show her nothing but respect, I assure you”

  “Hm. Good” He waved the other officer out of the room, who returned quickly with the expert in tow before retreating again, followed by the major. Apparently I was to deal with this meeting on my own.

  I was very glad that the major had seen fit to warn me before hand or I probably would have had trouble maintaining my composure. I stood to attention, trying hard not to stare. The woman, well, girl really, was about 5’4” with an athletic build, wearing a simple pair of jeans and a black shirt, and sensible combat boots on her small feet. She had dark brown curls that fell to her waist and intensely blue eyes. As she looked at me, they seemed to burn into me and fix me in place.

  “Captain Beck, I presume?” I nodded curtly, “it’s good to meet you. My name is Elizabeth Miller, and I believe I am to be your advisor.” She had a soft, mesmeric voice that certainly didn’t put me in mind of someone who would be an expert in vampires, but nevertheless made me think that she probably be extremely persuasive when she wanted to be.

  “Likewise Miss Miller, I’m looking forward to working with you.”

  She smirked and sat down, leaning back casually in her chair,

  “I doubt that, Captain. But don’t worry, I am very used to having to prove myself to men in positions of power. You will respect me in time.”

  “Uhh, I assure you Miss M-…”

  “Save it. Really.” Her voice took on a harder tone that told me she wasn’t kidding. “if it was up to that major out there, this meeting would be taking place in a room filled with officers and tacticians and scientists and god knows who else. But I wish to explain myself and my knowledge to you privately before the circus takes over.”

  This made me start back slightly, and I frowned at her,

  “Why?”

  She laughed wryly, “because you are the person I will be working and fighting with. You are the person who needs to be first and best informed because you are the person whose life will be on the line.” She smiled at me then, “and that right there, is the attitude that is the reason I am a civilian, not a soldier.”

  “Yes ma’am, I can see why that kind of attitude wouldn’t go down well in the army. But I’m still not sure why they’re agreeing to accommodate your request. A meeting like this is extremely unorthodox.”

  She had grimaced as I addressed her that time and I mentally kicked myself, of course no one her age would want to be called ma’am!

  “OK, firstly, if you ever call me that again I will break your nose,” she raised an eyebrow “it’s Beth, please. And secondly, well, I’m getting to that. Needless to say, the information I have is new and vital to the war effort. They’re willing to do pretty much anything to keep me sweet.” She smirked again, a quick tilt of one corner of her mouth.

  “Fine, so, what exactly is the information you have?” She looked at me hard for a long moment, then shifted forward in her chair, leaning her forearms on the table and linking her hands together.

  “How much do you know about vampires, captain?”

  “I know they drink blood, and kill and turn humans. They are faster and stronger than us, all their senses are massively superior to ours, and some of them can fly. Oh, and Hollywood is wrong about the daylight thing.”

  “OK, that’s not too bad. At least you’re ahead of the curve in not believing the sunlight shit. But what about other things, how can you kill them?”

  “Efficiently? Uh, stake through the heart? Crucifix, garlic, holy water?” I shrugged, “sorry, we’ve been a bit stuck on that one. Damn things are ridiculously hard to kill.”

  “Right again, about the hard to kill part anyway. Religious paraphernalia and garlic are rubbish. Thank you, Bram. Fire works, if you can keep them in it long enough for them to turn to ash… or you can chop ‘em up into a hundred or so pieces and scatter them far enough apart that they won’t be able to put themselves back together again.”

  My mind balked slightly at this, a queasy feeling starting in my gut,

  “However, a stake or pretty much anything else through the heart will put them down. It won’t kill them per se… if another vampire got to them and got enough blood in the wound, they would heal, but it gives you the opportunity to do something that actually would kill them.”

  She stared hard at me as she talked, keeping an intense eye contact which still seemed to be locking me in place. I shook my head and looked down at the table as she continued,

  “The reason they’re so hard to kill is the scales. If you hit them head on, they crush, so you have to hit them a ton of times to crush through. Blades are better, because they slide up under them.”

  “How would you know that?” I tried to keep the disbelief out of my voice. She shrugged,

  “Trial and error.” She sighed, “we focussed for a while on trying to find a more efficient way through the armour, but it proved pretty fruitless. So we went looking for something else; a way to even the playing field. There’s no way that we can defeat them in a straight out battle. There’s too many, we could kill a hundred a night, but a hundred and fifty more would be turned somewhere else. We had to find another way, a weakness.”

  An animalistic grin crossed her face and she leaned in towards me,

  “And that’s why we need you and your hit squad.”

  “Hit squad?” I looked at her incredulously, “we’re the army, not mercenaries!”

  “Oh please, counter terrorism specialises in sharp, fast raids. Kill the baddies, save the goodies. What’s that if not a hit squad?”

  She sat back, gesturing with her hands and becoming more animated,

  “see, the vampires that you’ve been fighting are fourth generation and basically just cannon fodder, they’re stupid. In fact, beyond the first couple of generations, they have basically no common sense or human deduction skills. Behind every large group of grunts is a small group of higher level vampires controlling them via a psychic link. Destroy the higher levels – that’ll be our job – and the grunts go into disarray and can be picked off by the army’s superior tactics.” She spread her hands in a ‘tadah!’ type gesture, and leaned back again to wait for my response. I blew out a long breath and studied her, trying to work out if she was for real or just very convincing in her delusions.

  “Oh… kaay.” I drew out, “why haven’t you come to us with this knowledge before now? You could have a lot of lives! Good men have been dying for years.”

  Her eyes flashed angrily and she slapped her hands palm down onto the table.

  “Believe it or not, this stuff wasn’t easy to find out! We only got the last bit of information a couple of months ago.�
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  I could almost see the glare that the major would be giving me right now,

  “Sorry, sorry. It’s just that it’s a personal subject. A lot of my friends have died because of the vampire plague.”

  “No shit. How do you think I got involved in all of this?” she replied quietly, her eyes flashing with sadness now instead of anger, looking at me steadily until I stared down at the table again, feeling somewhat abashed.

  Chapter 6

  Beth

  The captain looked up from the table and stared at me, disbelief and doubt rolling around in his mind as he tried to gauge how serious I was. He was fairly tall, just a shade over six feet, somewhere around his mid thirties and obviously very strong and fit. He had fairly floppy blond hair, which he ran his hand over periodically, keeping it pushed back out of his eyes, a strangely casual hairstyle for an officer… and chocolate brown eyes that now flickered down to look at his hands where they were folded on the table. He glanced up at me again,

  “But what about when the ‘grunts’, as you call them, lose this link to command. Won’t they just run riot, turning humans left, right and centre? Then we’ll be in an even bigger mess, we won’t be able to wipe them out faster than they breed.” I raised an eyebrow, pleased that he was thinking quick enough to perceive a flaw,

  “Not a problem, they can’t turn people. To turn a human, a vampire needs to make a conscious decision to do so, and beyond the third generation they don’t have the mental ability to do that. Only the first and second generations have the nouse to do it without being told to. As I mentioned before, they’re stupid. They will kill people, yes, but at least they won’t be organised and able to use structured force of numbers or tactical fighting against us. They won’t have the notion of gathering human prisoners anymore either. Ideally, we need to find the original, a rather nasty specimen called Archer. He’s the one who ultimately runs the show.”