In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1

by Savage, Fanny Lee

  Lucius leans back and puts his arm behind her on the sofa. She shifts and sits closer to him, responding to his protective nature. He catches my eyes, his eyebrow lifts, concerned over my reaction to her sudden movement toward him. Do I react poorly when he is near her? Something he sees in my face makes him grin. Lu and that fucking smile. Like we have some secret, but he knows more of it than I.

  There are times I believe Lu does know me better than I know myself. He has been with me since my life began, both human, and otherwise. He knows of my cruelty and my weakness. He knows my secrets, all but one. I know that he would die before he revealed any of them.

  Finally, Charlotte leans forward and rubs her face in her hands. When she sits upright, her teeth hold her bottom lip, chewing on the corner. Her body is weary, and she looks breakable. So full of fear. Of what I had done? I, a fierce gladiator, a nineteen-hundred-year-old demon, find I am scared of how she will react.

  It is easy to care too much. Yet I have always known to keep myself separate from our human charges. That is until Emily and Charlotte. When they are young, they view their Guardians as a protector. As they grow older, a Guardian is less involved. They know we are there, they wave and we share laughs. Guardians don’t give out advice or share secrets. They weren’t friends. We were there to protect, as they lived their lives. That is how it is supposed to be.

  Yet Charlotte, I had never spoken to. I hadn’t been in her life. I was a distant figure she never met, in the shadows, keeping her safe. It leaves us in an odd position. I knew her and cared for her as a child. I saw as she grew, but over the years she has become a stranger and suddenly we sit, forced together in a situation where we are bound together by a secret.

  Lu stands abruptly, “Well, this is fun, but I’m off to... do something.” He leans down and kisses Charlotte’s forehead. Her smile makes me want to rip his throat out. I close my eyes and refocus. He is my brother. He is her Guardian. He is allowed to touch her.

  “No doubt something mischievous,” Charlotte says, after he has left the room.

  “You like him.”

  “What’s not to like?” Her smile is wanton and her eyes sparkle. The blue is clear but rimmed with dark lapis lazuli, like the springs near the plantation. Had I never noticed before how they lit up when she smiles? I know that I must have.

  She has always been… flirtatious, but she is contagious and I can’t seem to resist teasing her. Something I regret as I sit in front of her. I am still shocked though, by her behavior the night by the pool. More so that her flirtations were aimed at me, and not subtly.

  I sit back and do my best to look uninterested. Her smile fades and I worry I appear angry instead. That is what I feel, nothing but anger. Toward myself, Emily, Charlotte, and the fact that she is scared of me. She shifts in her seat. I stare back, waiting. Her heart starts to beat faster and her breathing is shallow.

  “You were there,” she says, looking down at her hands.

  “Yes.”

  “I remember.” Such a simple statement, yet it holds so much. It is amazing how two little words can tear at my soul.

  “And here, I believed it was my amazing charm that made you swoon,” I say. Her reaction when we met, officially, should have told me she remembered. Maybe I didn’t want to believe it then.

  She looks away and I regret my words immediately. Something about her brings out terrible things in me. Her fingers wrap into her hair and she brings the strands to her lips, rubbing the ends over them. A strange habit that she must have picked up after Emily’s death.

  Looking at her now, I realize, I do not know this woman. She is closed and secretive. She used the wear her heart on her sleeve; now she keeps everything inside, locked away from prying eyes. How can this be the same girl I watched over? She is so lost, terribly damaged, and I have caused the worst of it.

  “You lied,” she says to me.

  “As did you.”

  “But why did you lie?”

  “Why does anyone lie?” I ask. “We lie to cover truths. To stay hidden. To keep ugliness from touching others. That is what it comes down to. We lie to protect the ones we love, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte nibbles on the tips of her hair. It is fascinating to witness her movement as she thinks, but I’m not sure of what. She is the only human I have met that I cannot read clearly. Anxiety pours from her, I can guess what it stems from, but I have no idea what her thoughts are.

  “All lies are self-serving. This, what you did, wasn’t.”

  “No?”

  Charlotte sighs and stands. Her legs are too thin. She has lost weight since her arrival. I want to remind her to eat and take care of herself, but I remain silent, she seems to shrink into herself when I say these things.

  “You are being punished for something you didn’t do.” She looks at me, it is like she can see every sin I’ve committed. Maybe she can.

  “I failed to protect you.”

  “But you did, don’t you see?” Tears form in her eyes and I have to look away. Her pain is too consuming. It leaks out and fills me. “If Abigail found out...”

  There is no need to finish the sentence. We both know the reason we remain silent. Charlotte stops in front of me, too close. Her desperation is clear. Her need. I’m not sure why she feels this when she is near me. It threatens to weaken me. She wants nothing but to lose herself. The self-destructive behavior her entire life has stemmed from this desire to let go of her pain. She must feel safe with me. I carry her secret. This is good. I need her to trust me.

  When I glance back, I see a million questions pass behind her eyes. Her emotions are all over, scrambled and confused. The one emotion she has not expressed, is anger. I can feel her confusion and her fear. Yet she has no anger, only fear and another, more acute emotion. Guilt. How could she possibly feel guilt? She has done nothing wrong. This, I am unable to understand. I expected her rage, not this, not the horrible sorrow and pain laced with guilt.

  How could she not be angry with me? It will come later, I’m sure. When she is able to fully understand what I have done. I had told Abigail the truth. My bloodlust had destroyed her daughters and Abigail would not mince the words when she told Charlotte.

  “Were you really there? At the plantation?” She asks.

  “Yes.”

  Charlotte nods, this seems to be the answer she wanted. “Like, always?”

  “Well, at night. I left for a few years when you were older.”

  She nods again and paces in front of me. “So you sat, in the bushes, a vampire Peeping Tom and watched Emily and I as little girls?”

  “No. That is a terrible way of saying it.” I say, defensively.

  “What is it with you and cameras, and watching people?”

  I laugh. She is ridiculous. “You seemed to like my equipment,” I say. It is impossible to tell if she is toying with me.

  “Before I found out you were voyeuristic vampire.”

  “I was protecting you.”

  “Is that what you call stalking girls in their homes?”

  “You didn’t call it stalking when you found out Lucius was your Guardian,” I say, trying to cover my annoyance. I have to take a deep breath again. She has this way of twisting words that is maddening. “But, if that’s how you’d like to view me, it is a little perverse considering...”

  She sits down again and puts her head in her hands. Her embarrassment is clear. She read it wrong the other evening. I care for her. I had protected her. That is all it is between us, but she’s too fun to tease.

  Charlotte pulls at her dress, adjusting the hem. Her toes squirm in her shoes. I remain still, not wanting to distract her from her thoughts. Her legs move and she rubs her ankles together. She can’t seem to stop fidgeting. The light smattering of freckles on her thighs peaks out at me. There are traces of sweat and sunlight on her skin. Faint flecks of dried grass on her dress from the gardens. I see where her fingers had picked at the small petals of wildflowers, the light scent, still lingers on
her.

  My eyes go around the room, aware that I am observing her too closely. The lamp by her illuminates the darker freckles over her arms. She has more than she used to. The light hits the moisture on her lips, glossy like hard sweet candies. I have to take another breath, deeper this time. She is distracting. I find that I’m noticing things I had never before.

  “I’m leaving in two days,” I tell her.

  Charlotte’s head shoots up with alarm, her entire body tenses with anxiety. I hadn’t expected such a strong reaction. Seems she would be relieved I am leaving. She won’t have to deal with me and worry over slipping up in front of anyone. Or maybe I am relieved. It will be a nice break from Henri and his greedy hands on her all the time. I can almost see his fingerprints on her skin or where his lips have touched hers. It is mostly in my head, but his scent is all over her. It always is.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to travel to Italy; Milan. A meeting I have to attend,” I say.

  “Will you be gone long?”

  “I’m not sure, a week at most,” I tell her. “Lucius is here.” What had Henri said to her? I’d tear his heart out if he did something to her.

  Charlotte nods, satisfied with my answer. Her eyes float over my face, my nose? No, my lips. The woman is constantly watching my mouth, always chewing on her own lips or the tips of her hair as she does. Almost as if she is wondering what they taste like. The thought makes me smile and I press my fingers to my mouth, her lips part and I hear her breath catch. It is… distracting, but I can’t seem to stop myself from instigating.

  “The Celebration Feast is this evening,” I remind her. Her body slumps down in her seat. She has forgotten again. “Are you prepared?” I ask.

  “How do I prepare to be around a bunch of vampires, Aydin?”

  My jaw tightens and my throat clenches. I swallow to relieve the sudden tension in my mouth. I’m not sure what it is that makes my fangs long. The sound of her voice saying my name, or the thought of her being exposed to all the guests and greed these gatherings involve. I press my fingers to my mouth and take another breath.

  “You will be there right?” She asks. The desperation in her voice doesn’t help and I bite the tip of my thumb to try to relieve the tightness in my throat.

  “Yes,” I say.

  She stands and walks to the door. The bottom of her dress barely covers her thighs. It is an indecent length, too high, forcing my eyes. I want to refuse to give her the satisfaction that she can distract me. Charlotte, it seems, knows her body is seductive and uses it as a weapon. Not that I blame her. It is a gift women can hold such power. One that is all too often used against them. She turns, glancing my way, her smile is small. She has caught my wandering eyes. Her skin heats and I breathe in, letting her scent fill me.

  “Then I will see you this evening, Mr. Thanos.”

  -----------

  The computer screen stares back at me, the chateau halls are empty. I had seen Charlotte walk with Lance up the tower stairs to the roof, her camera in hand. She is out of my view, there are no cameras up there. Vampire peeping Tom, I have to laugh. She has an amazing ability to bring out the absurd in any situation. And distract. Charlotte is very distracting, so much so, that I am having a hard time focusing on the task at hand.

  I click the screen back to the email I had read. My hands hover over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. Modern technology is amazing. Words appear, stolen from my thoughts and transfer to the screen by my fingers. A few clicks of a button and the words are sent away, into the air, to someplace else, seen by other eyes. Those eyes are what I worry over. Who all will see my response. No matter how carefully I code the message, there is always a chance it can be deciphered.

  Noise clicks in my head, small voices over the device that sits snugly in my ear. No matter how low I turn the volume down the tinny sounds pierce my skull, as do the monitors. As fascinating as it is, I despise all the equipment. The job, the endless questions and constant state of alarm. The deafening noise and chatter. I would rather go back to using my instincts, listening with my own ears, all my senses open. That is what I was made for. Not staring at a computer, typing cryptic emails. But I have to remain on top of their every move. There are those in the Organization that keep things hidden.

  “How did it go?”

  I gesture for Lu to come in and shut the door. Even as human children he tried to sneak up on me, though he was never able to. “Better than I had hoped.”

  “Then why do you look upset?” Lu asks. His body takes up the entire chair. It never failed to amaze me how he had managed to build larger muscles than I. As humans we trained the same, sparring often, forcing each other to be more powerful, more brutal. The last five years have taken their toll on my body. I am not sure why I have the sudden thought. Maybe it is the way Charlotte eyes his large frame.

  “She isn’t angry with me,” I say.

  “Do you want her to be?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “She feels guilty.”

  “You are doing it again. Over analyzing,” Lucius laughs quietly, more to himself. “Sometimes I think the devil made a mistake making you a man.”

  “Thankfully he did. I would never be rid of you otherwise.”

  “You know you love my company.” Lu smiles, that smile again. “Why are you so surprised she is not angry?” He is avoiding my observation over Charlotte’s guilt. In reality, it is understandable.

  “I just don’t see how she can be so forgiving.”

  “You know, better than anyone, brother, she has a beautiful soul,” Lu says. “Actually, she has beautiful everything. That body! Those breasts! They would fit perfectly in my hands.” He makes a deep, guttural sound, and I take the time to consider if I should rip off the hand he holds up, cupping the air, or let him alone. Instead, I click the mouse to send the email before standing. He needn’t dwell on any particular part of Charlotte.

  “Is everything ready in Florida?”

  “Yes brother, I have made all the arrangements,” Lucius says and stands. “Are you ready for this evening? Alfonso is to attend.”

  “Yes, I will speak with him tonight.”

  Lucius turns and starts to walk from the room.

  “Lucius,” I say. He turns to face me, his entire body taking up the doorway. “Do me a favor.”

  “Anything for my favorite brother.”

  “Keep your fucking hands off her.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  The night air is cool and feels good over my skin. A calming effect to my raw nerves. The sounds of the conversation around me rattle in my head. Thinly veiled greed shines on the faces of Ashur’s guests. They know what is in store. I despise these gatherings. They remind me of my time in the ludus, dark times I would rather forget.

  In secret Ashur hosted lurid gatherings, offering gladiators at the request of his many influential friends. Men and women would come for the promise of a night of pleasure. Coin spilled form their purses, spittle forming on their mouths. The torches flashing on the men’s hard desire, the women’s moist lips, painted red. Ashur masked his gladiators, and we stood unclothed, on display, and at their mercy. Lucius’ hard muscular frame and soft curls would make him a target. He would be left, shaken, refusing my attempts to comfort him. He endured far worse than most of us. But he never broke. His strength willed us both through it.

  The nights of lust we called them, hold far worse memories than my time in the ring. The air would reek of greed and sin. My body on display, my life’s only meaning to give pleasure to whatever sick desire that was chosen for me. The men’s brutality was expected. The women’s desire to be consumed was welcome. I could lose myself in their lust. It was the power that they held over me that was terrifying, their grip on my life, dangerous, leaving me at their mercy. In the dark bedrooms of the ludus, I was nothing more than a slave.

  The humans around us walk seductively, trying to catch th
e eyes of every vampire in the room. Skin tight dresses and tailored tuxedos, erotic spices over their warm skin. It is enticing. I feel myself getting caught up in it and walk outside for fresh air.

  The ripe smell of grapes and raw earth from the vineyards hit my nose. A welcome scent compared to the lust that fills the room behind me. I look back to see Lucius is engaged in a conversation with a plump woman. He smiles politely at her and catches my eyes. The expression on his face makes me smile, and he breaks free to join me on the open terrace.

  “She isn’t down here?” He asks. I know he means Charlotte.

  “No.”

  “Hmm...I hope she is doing alright.” Lucius seems to be just as enchanted as everyone else by her. Charlotte is already proving to be a problem for me as well. She is constantly sitting in my mind, demanding my attention. There is part of me that wonders if it is because I gave her my blood. I know mostly it is my darker parts that wish this.

  I turn back to view the room. Ashur has spared no expense this time. Gauzy material hangs from the ceiling creating a silky canopy. Crystal beads and small light bulbs are woven between the thin layers, washing the entire Hall in a soft glow. Strands of lights spread out over the gardens from the french doors, like fallen stars.

  Charlotte walks through the doorway with Claudette. Charlotte’s gold locks of hair are pulled back loose, revealing her thin neck. The dress is long with a loose neckline, exposing her chest, all the way to her navel. The thin blue material is held up, barely, by a string tied around her neck. There is a sudden urge to cover her, shield her from the eyes that follow her around the Great Hall.

  When she turns to greet Henri, I see that it is backless and gathers into a deep V, showing small dimples in her lower back. Every time she moves, the too high slit in the side shows most of her thigh. Henri places his hand on her back, my throat clenches. I have to bite my tongue to keep my fangs from showing.