In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1

by Savage, Fanny Lee

  “I’m so sorry, Miss Charlotte,” he mocks. “Do you need to talk? Have a nice therapeutic session to sort out your feelings?”

  “Stop,” I say and turn back to my bowl. My breath rushes out as he sits back down and put his head in his hands. “Seems like your bad moods would have made you a poor Guardian.”

  There I go, pushing buttons again.

  My bowl flies off the table. The clanking sound of metal on stone echoes off the chamber walls. My hands fly to my face to cover my scream. He stands inches from me, threatening, his face twisted in rage. I hadn’t even felt him move.

  “You are right, I made a terrible Guardian. I hated listening to silly little girls chatter, like fucking mice all day! The sounds of your voices made me cringe!”

  “How dare you!” I stand and my chair falls loudly to the floor.

  “Yours worst of all, cooing over Henri all the time!” Aydin screams so loud I think my ears my bleed. I cover my them with my hands and fight the tears that have sprung up. My hands tremble, my entire body starts to shake.

  Aydin grabs my hands from my ears and everything stops. My vision blurs and my heart starts to beat wildly. My stomach drops as one of his hands wraps around the back of my neck, his other at my waist, pulling me to him. A cool hand slips up under my shirt, the fingers dig rough into my back. My breath sucks in at the sensation. Aydin lowers his face to mine, a wide array of emotions passes over him, before he settles on mean.

  He releases me suddenly and sits my chair upright. Aydin points indicating for me to sit. I quickly follow his orders unsure of what has just happened. It is pretty obvious he had wanted to do... something, but decided against it. At that moment, I realize, he has the power to make me do whatever he chooses. If he had wanted me to feel pain, I would have. Yet, he chose not too, even in his anger.

  “Don’t push me, Charlotte,” he threatens and walks away.

  ----------

  It has been almost a day since I have seen him. I could hear the locks on the door in the room at the end of the cell hall when he locked me out. His violent outburst was so unexpected, I know I pushed too far. After he had left, I sat alone in the cavern, the darkness creeping in on me before I finally went to my room.

  My chest is tight, and anxiety spreads out, taking over. Everything in me wants to run and pound on the door, to scream for him to let me in. I don’t. I sit in my little cell and lie on the blankets, waiting. He is fighting his demons. I have to be patient.

  “You are going to use up all of our candles.”

  My breath rushes out and I push back the tears. Aydin’s calm voice is soothing and I put down the book I am trying to read. “I can’t sleep when there are bugs crawling all over me.”

  “There are no bugs in here,” he says.

  “There are bugs everywhere, Aydin.”

  He walks into the room and sets a small box on the crate next to my bed. He looks around and makes a big show out of inspecting the room, lifting up the blankets and pushing the crate from the wall. “See, no bugs.”

  “There are bugs, I can feel them crawling on me when the light is out.”

  “That is your imagination.”

  “Unless you are going to sit here and make sure no creepy things crawl on me in the dark, the candles stay lit.” I bring the book back to my face.

  “That sounds like an invitation,” his voice is coy. “Are you flirting with me, Miss Charlotte?”

  “No,” I laugh. “Sorry to disappoint you. I’ve had my share of abusive men and nefarious vampires.”

  “Oh, I like that. Nefarious,” he says the word smoothly, tasting it. His smile is big, showing his teeth. The metal glow of his eyes gleam dangerously in the flickering light. The burns are fainter, completely healed over his lips. Only a few patches of where it had burned deeper still remain raw. He looks like his usual thin mean self. I am glad, I’ll take this version over the last one I saw.

  He has changed into another suit. I am beginning to think he owns nothing more than different tailored suits. Not that he has many options where we are. I am wearing my usual attire, a t-shirt and boxer shorts. I don’t bother dressing anymore. There’s no point.

  Aydin moves again toward me, he sits down closer than he usually does, the faint scent of sandalwood hits my nose. My heart starts beating heavy, giving me away, as it always does, when he is close. I know he can hear it and am pretty sure he enjoys that he has this affect over me.

  “Open it.” He points to the thin cardboard box he had placed next to me.

  I eye him suspiciously and pick it up. It isn’t very big and I shake it lightly, smiling at him. “What is it?”

  “Just open it.”

  Grinning like a fool, I open the top. Inside is a black and silver vintage camera and several rolls of film. Pin pricks of tears sting my eyes and I pull the gift from the box.

  “It is a Hasselblad made in the 1970’s,” Aydin says. I can’t read his face, his eyes are soft in the candle light, but he shifts, uncomfortably next to me. This is new, uncomfortable Aydin.

  “How long has this been here?” Has he really kept this? Waiting for me?

  “I brought it here when I went on my trip to Milan.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Aydin.”

  “Nothing.”

  Aydin smooths my hair down, running his hand over my back.

  “Do you want to see her?” He asks.

  My heart starts to pound. “Who?”

  “Emily. I can show her to you.”

  “I don’t know.” I shake my head.

  Aydin takes the camera from my hand and places it on the crate. He pulls me toward him, forcing me into his lap. His arm wraps around my shoulder and I lean into him. His body is so thin beneath me, I can feel the lean muscle through his suit. My hands clasp together in my lap.

  I have never been this close to him. So close, I can see every detail on his skin, the deep burns that won’t heal over his cheeks. The new skin is smooth, with small pores in them. The hair over his cheeks and jaw look soft. There are faint scars on one side, under his beard and I wonder what they are from. The silver flecks in his eyes are alive in the flickering light, they almost flow, like liquid. He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. And that is what he is, what he was before he became the dark creature he believes he is. A man, a kind and giving one. I want to run my fingers through his hair, but I keep my hands tight in my lap.

  I know he can hear my heart beating too fast, and how shallow my breaths are. He takes a deep breath of his own and smooths my hair down. The scent of him hits my nose, it is strong, and the metallic taste of lightning fills my mouth. He leans back against the stone wall behind him pulling me closer.

  “Close your eyes.”

  I hesitate, but close them. My hands start to shake and he puts his over mine. I take a deep breath and relax. He slips one of my hands under the buttons of his suit, his skin is cool and soft as he places it over his heart. I feel the smooth beat under my palm and I take a deep breath again, trying to stop the shaking in my body. His hand goes under the front of my shirt, I tense and my breath hitches, but he places it lightly over my chest, right at my heart. His other arm slips under my shirt and wraps around my waist. He grips me tighter and I squeeze my eyes shut.

  “Breathe.” His voice is at my ear, his lips moving against the skin. My breath releases and I relax into him. “Keep your eyes closed.”

  He places his lips to my temple. Light flashes behind my eyes, my heart jumps up and he grips me tighter. His breaths are slow and deep, his chest rising and falling. Another light flashes, a picture tries to focus, but the edges fade and it disappears.

  Bright sparks appear in the corners of my eyes, it slowly brightens, and an image forms, the edges blurred. It is moving, flickering like film on an old movie reel, unsteady. Color bleeds in and brightens. There are two girls sitting close together. The sky around them is dark, the trees in the background a silhouette with small flecks of green hidden in them
against the dark blue of the night. Stars dot into focus, glowing like bokah lights. Complete silence envelops me and the picture forms bright and clear. There is light on the edges of everything, like every life-form glows with the stars.

  I know instantly it is Emily and I. We are ten years old and sit in the garden behind our home. The porch light makes a small circle around us, reaching out into the night. The smell of damp earth fills my nose and something else, warm and airy, it reminds me of the ocean. Emily sits behind me and is braiding my hair. We wear thin white nightgowns that stick to our skin, the air so humid and thick.

  I remember this night. I couldn’t sleep and we had crept outside to sit in the garden. I was restless, too excited by the lightning in the air. Emily sits behind me, trying to calm me, smoothing my hair down and twisting the strands. My head is resting down on my knees, hiding my face. She had asked me to tell her a story. This is the night I made up the tale of the ghosts in the woods. How they charged the air we breathed and watched us, their eyes peaking out behind the skinny pines and low ferns.

  Every time she speaks, encouraging me to continue, she presses her hand to her mouth, catching the words in a kiss, before rubbing them over my hair and back. We used the do this so that no matter if we were apart, we only had to look in the mirror to see each others promises over our skin.

  Emily turns and she looks directly to where Aydin must have sat, as if she can see him in the darkness. She turns back to me and I can hear her voice, sweet, but insistent. “It is not ghosts. It is the Beast, but he is kind. He is waiting for the one he loves.”

  The pieces start breaking and the picture fades. I don’t want it to go. This was how she was. There was good in her, Emily was kind. From a distance, Aydin had loved us, so much, he risked his life to keep the memory of ours from being stained. I know now, my life had been beautiful. My childhood was as golden and peaceful as I remembered. We were loved and treasured, by everyone around us. Most of all, Emily was what I had remembered her to be, she was my other half and she loved me, cherished me, as her friend, her confidant. She was my sister. Her actions the night she crashed Daddy’s car don’t shape who she really was. Emily was life, vibrant and so full of love; she shined, guiding me through my own darkness.

  Aydin presses his lips harder to my temple. My entire body shakes consumed with the pain of remembering. His hands leave my skin and smooth my shirt down, leaving my heart aching. He places me back on the bed next to him. Pain slices through me, tearing at my chest. Tears fall down my face. When I finally look at Aydin, he is smiling and the pain eases. He takes it away and I know that he will hold pieces for me. I don't have to carry it alone.

  Aydin reaches around his neck and he pulls the metal links from inside his shirt. The candle catches the links as he closes his hand around the charm. He clasps the chain around my neck, his hands grazing the skin, rubbing the links between his fingers as he places the angel charm at my throat. His eyes land on the small scar. His face changes, subtle, only a faint glimmer of sadness. The cool skin of his fingers graze over my collarbone, feeling the raised skin, the only visible evidence of the night Emily died.

  His jaw clenches and he releases a shallow breath. “I think five years has been long enough,” Aydin says. His hands cup my face and he leans in, kissing my nose, before he stands and walks out.

  It is my birthday. I had thought we skipped it over in silence. I feel the charm around my neck and swallow around the ache in my throat. Five years is enough time to heal, long enough to let Emily go.

  Chapter Forty-two

  The things that happen to us in life are what make us who we are. They stay with us, they haunt our dreams and pull at the corners of our mouths, turning them down. If we let them. We carry the memories around, cradled in our minds, but they won’t stain us if we wash them away.

  I am not that strong. No matter how many times I bathe, the marks are there. Ludari’s teeth cling to me, making me weak. I despise myself that I let it invoke such fear. It doesn’t matter that I lie in the dark and promise my soul that I will be stronger. I will awake the next day and be changed, by my sheer will alone, I will let go of the fear. But as the nights grow long, the darkness settles in and I shake. My will breaks. They have cracked it. Stole the nut and bolts that keep me going. They have become what defines me. I let them. I’m not strong enough. Not yet, maybe not ever.

  Aydin chases Ludari away. His presence helps keep the images locked in their box. It isn’t something I can dwell on. My mother my not be alive. She had spent my entire life scheming to protect me. Lucius may lay in shreds, torn apart in his efforts to help the brother he clearly loves. I can’t think of Henri. Every time he weasels his way in I have to shove him back. His whispers and kisses. They weren’t stemmed from love, but of lies and his yearning for power. The thoughts crack my mind, I push them back and add more locks to the boxes that I hold his memories in.

  There are powers beyond me, ones I don’t understand, a fight happening with Aydin at its center. He is determined to keep me from them. Aydin is the only thing I focus on. He has welded himself to me, cared for me since I was a child. I don’t know what any of it means. I don’t know why I need him so desperately. When he leaves to rest in his room, I am lost and scared.

  My future is unclear and I have no idea when, if ever, I will return to a life that resembles some sort of normal. I take every waking moment as it comes. I don’t think long enough to form questions. The events of the last month are too vast in size and reach out with too many threads. I know he hasn’t told me it all and there is more to come.

  Ludari and Ashur become the focus of my rage. Claudette’s cruel laugh embeds itself in with them. They feed my nightmares, Ludari always at the center. Aydin always comes before the screams can leave my mouth and wakes me. His gray eyes rescuing me as he has always done. He chases them all away, and I am safe with him. Even though his body is still weak, the few small burns deep and still not healing, I know he would fight to his death to protect me. I look to him now, he was watching me, but has looked away.

  “Are you in pain?” I ask. We sit in the open cavern of the dungeon. I am on the pile of blankets I have drug out. My cell is too small, haunted by the many lives that have passed through it. The damp stone walls have seen too much death and too much suffering. I lie on top of the deep blue throws, the red velvet pillows and plush comforter. It is a bright little nest, where I sleep, while Aydin sits watch at night, sometimes during the day. I ignore the chains on the walls. They try to remind me of the lives of men that have wasted away in the dark.

  “No,” Aydin lies.

  Too much time has passed. Lucius still hasn’t shown up. Aydin doesn’t speak of him. When he tells me stories, they focus mostly on Lucius, his brother. That is what he is to him, but I can tell there is more. A deep bond of trust, more than a simple childhood would create. Maybe out of sharing in a hard and brutal life. I don't know. He refuses to tell me those parts. But, I know Aydin’s worry and the deep sickening fear. I have at least two months worth of supplies left, but the time in the cavern is wearing on us both. Aydin needs nothing, he keeps telling me.

  Except blood.

  “You’re not getting better,” I state the obvious.

  “I’m fine, Charlotte. Go to sleep.”

  “I’m not tired.”

  “Then let me be, woman.” His tone is mean. A razor sharpened by his pain.

  “You don’t have to yell,” I sulk. “I’m not a child.”

  “Then stop acting like one.”

  I sigh, irritated. Fine, he can be mean if he wants.

  “I can feel it, you know,” I say.

  “What?” He looks at me, his face searching.

  We haven’t spoken of it. Not since we arrived in our sanctuary. I am scared to bring it up after hearing his anger, worried about his reaction. I’m not supposed to feel it, but I know what it means. His eyes tell me, the times I catch him watching. I belong to Ludari

  “Luda
ri’s mark.”

  “That is because you are traumatized,” he says, but he can’t look at my eyes. “You just think you can.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know why you try to pretend like it doesn’t bother you.”

  Aydin’s eyes flash in rage. I really am a child. Always pushing him, trying to get a reaction, anything from him. He has let me see under his mask, given me a glimpse and I’m always greedy for more. Even if it is the form of his anger. I take it, hungry.

  “He is cruel, of course, it is upsetting,” Aydin stands. He can’t sit for long, not anymore, this alone tells me the depth of his worry.

  “What do I do?” I ask, ignoring the dismissive tone. “To get rid of it?”

  “You can’t. Once a human is marked, there is nothing that can be done.”

  “Well, what happens if another vampire marks a person after they have already been?” I ask him.

  “They don’t. They are not to be touched.” He talks like I should have known this, and I do, I have already been told.

  “What? Like they can’t? There is some magic force that keeps them from biting someone who is marked? Like a shield?”

  “No. It’s just an unwritten law.” Aydin shakes his head at my stupidity. “Don’t be silly.”

  “We’ve already established how silly I am.” I watch as his lips turn up and he smiles. Finally. It has been days since I have seen his smile. Aydin returns to his chair. “What do I do to help you?”

  “Nothing, Lucius will be here soon and then I can leave to hunt,” he says simply. He still believes it.

  “He’s late,” I remind him, not that he needs it. “What if he doesn’t come, what then?”

  “He’ll be here.”

  “He’s not coming, Aydin. He would be here by now.”

  Aydin puts his head in his hands. I wish I could take my words back.

  “I’m here, I’m human.” I don't know what I am saying. I haven't planned it. The words just spill out from my lips unchecked. “You helped me, let me help you.”