The Vampire's Warden

by S. J. Wright

  “What the hell is this about?” I flung out at him.

  He looked down at the journal on his lap. When he realized what is was, he quickly grabbed it up and began to flip through the pages. His eyes scanned the first few entries before he even glanced up at me.

  “How much have you read?” He inquired.

  “Enough to know that whoever wrote this is certifiably insane. My question to you is what was my dad doing with this? What’s the angle?” I was furious, confused, and nearly panting.

  He did not answer right away. The pages had him mesmerized, and he seemed to be reading them incredibly fast. After a few minutes, he looked up at me again with an ironic half smile.

  “Sounds kind of crazy, doesn’t it?”

  “Kind of crazy?” I shot back. I grabbed the TV remote and hit the mute button so I could concentrate. I threw the remote back down on the folding table he was using as a nightstand and glared at him.

  “Alex, what is going on? Who wrote this?”

  That smile was still there as he delivered the answer, “Your grandfather, believe it or not.”

  My grandfather, Jonathon Wood, had died in 1974, years before I had even been born. I knew almost nothing about him. My father had never revealed much about the man other than he had been a hard taskmaster back when the Inn was just a working farm and he had had a drinking problem. After reading the first two entries of his journal, it was not hard to imagine that he had had some major issues.

  But vampires? No way, I thought. It was a ridiculous idea. Alex pulled a T-shirt from the bottom of the bed and tugged it on over his bare torso, yawning in the process as if I had bored him with all this drama. He left the journal open on the table by his bed and settled back against his pillow.

  “He wasn’t crazy. It’s all true,” He said.

  I searched his face for some sign of a joke such as a crinkle of his beautiful eyes, a twist of his lips. However, there was nothing but resignation registering on his face. He sighed and regarded me with an expression that seemed almost apologetic.

  “There’s no such thing as vampires. I’m not a complete idiot, Alex. Maybe he was just making up stories or something. But there’s no way that journal is based on fact. Give me a break.” I crossed my arms and glared at him.

  “Selena was counting on you reacting like this.” He reached back over to the table and picked up a cell phone. He scrolled through it, pulled up a number, and handed me the phone.

  “She wanted to talk to you once you learned the truth.”

  I stared at the phone, uncomprehendingly. Now my mother wanted to talk? She did not bother to call after my father’s death to offer any consolation, but now she wanted to talk. Oh, hell no. I huffed and grabbed the journal from the table, sticking it back inside my jacket.

  “Tell her to kiss my ass.” I grumbled, turning away and heading to the door.

  Before I even had my hand on the knob, I felt his presence very close behind me, warming the skin on the back of my neck, and sending odd little shivers down my spine. I did not turn around.

  His breath ticked the hairs at the nape of my neck, “I can understand your anger. She should have come forward a long time ago, but she didn’t think you would understand it, Sarah.”

  Shaking off the disconcerting affect he had on me, I opened the door and left, leaving the door open behind me. I started walking, not looking back, but knowing that he would be still standing there in the open doorway, watching.

  It did not matter. I just wanted to escape. I felt like the world I had grown up in was suddenly falling down around me like some ancient relic, bursting into gray ash and tiny pebbles. I walked without thinking where I was going. My feet moved forward as my brain buzzed with questions and accusations against the woman who had abandoned me.

  My grandfather had been mistaken, obviously. Vampires were a myth from the dark ages that Hollywood used to make money. I’d read some of the books, of course. I was not immune to the idea of it. However, that is all it was—an idea. They were just stories written to scare people who were into that kind of thing. Alternatively, they were cleverly written teen romances involving vampires as well as werewolves. I preferred that kind. Nevertheless, I knew better than to imagine any of it was real. I was too old to believe in fairy tales.

  Looking around, I suddenly realized that I had walked farther than I had intended. Although most of the landscape surrounding me was blanketed in darkness, I could make out the sound of a stream gurgling and three huge white shapes in the field before me.

  I was in the meadow. Panic pushed through me in waves and my heart began beating savagely inside my chest. No. Not here. I turned blindly to make my way back in the direction of the main house. That is when I heard the voice.

  “Ah, Sarah.”

  The voice echoed around me, unfamiliar and oddly seductive. The voice of a man. It was endlessly alluring, smooth and sent little hot shocks up my spine. However, I could feel the dangerous undertones, the hint of deception as my brain tried to process the way my body was reacting.

  “Who’s there?” I called cautiously, glancing around. Fear congealed in my gut, rendering my legs and arms powerless. Whoever was calling me seemed to know me on a deeper level than I thought possible. It terrified me. There was a complete and deadening silence in the surrounding trees. A nothingness that brought the fear to a heart-stopping crescendo.

  I waited and looked over the boulders in the dim moonlight. I was reminded of the last vision I had had when I had touched Alex. The woman in the meadow, waiting expectantly. However, there had been no fear in her such as I felt now. Only anticipation. What had she been waiting for? Who? Why hadn’t she been afraid?

  It was then that I saw a figure step out from behind one of the boulders. His movements were as fluid and graceful as a jungle cat. He paused for a moment and then leaned back against one of the boulders, crossing his arms. I could not make out his features in the darkness, only the carefree stance and powerful build. Even without the validation of physically seeing his eyes, I felt them on me just as I felt the ground beneath my feet and the ragged breaths coming in and out of my chest.

  Then he spoke.

  “At last.” There was a breath of a sigh and I thought I saw his lips curve upward in an ironic smile, “My dearest Sarah.” Again, that same melodic voice captured my attention completely.

  I found the power in my limbs suddenly and moved toward him, nearly desperate to see his face, “Who are you?”

  “I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself.” He chuckled darkly, “I am Michael.”

  Chapter Four

  So this was the one who had been sent against his will for bad behavior. Acknowledging that fact would force me to admit that the whole idea of vampires could be real. I shook myself mentally, still trying to deny the truth that was, quite literally, staring me in the face.

  I straightened and raised my chin an inch before I replied.

  “Why are you here?” I asked coldly, my chilling tone giving me courage in the face of this unbelievable scenario. I tried to steady my breath, drawing in slow, deep gulps of the cool night air.

  He moved. It was a flash in the moonlight, a blur of motion like I had never witnessed. No human had the capacity to move like that. When I found myself face-to-face with him there in the meadow, I knew without a doubt that the journal was authentic. I knew that my grandfather had not been crazy at all.

  Because a foot away from me stood a vampire.

  My denial had reached its end.

  Closer now, I could see the details that I had missed before. His body seemed to be a solid mass of muscle, garbed in black jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt that emphasized the size of his biceps. The human-looking frame and face might have brought my disbelief back in a tidal wave if it were not for the eyes. The contrast between his dark slanting eyebrows and pale blue eyes was inhuman. The sardonic half smirk of his hard-looking mouth revealed that the nature of the creature before me was far from friendly
.

  “Why am I here?” He tilted his head slightly and raised a hand to rub his chin, “Hmm. Let me think.” Snapping his fingers suddenly, he brightened up and stated sarcastically, “Oh yes! Now I remember. I’ve been imprisoned here.” I watched him move casually away, his dark boots treading quietly in the nighttime stillness, “Either you’re not the brightest bulb in the room, or you haven’t read the journal yet. Which is it?”

  I have had to deal with smartass people in my past, but considering his position in the world and my ineptitude when it came to vampires, I was a little shocked. I waded through my confusion as quickly as I could and recalled my grandfather’s words about how he could not be harmed. It was a leap of faith to assume that statement applied to me as well, but I was not about to let him get the upper hand.

  “My question had more to do with why you were locked up here in the first place. But honestly, it doesn’t matter much to me. I’m sure the Council had their reasons.” I met his stare calmly when he turned back to me.

  “Their reasons.” He spat out, “Yes, they certainly did have their reasons.” His eyes narrowed suddenly in surprise and he lifted his face, sniffing at the air. The entire posture of his body changed. I watched as his lazy arrogant stance was transformed into a cautionary half-crouch, his startling eyes bright against the pale surface of his elegant face.

  “Sarah.” A firm male voice came at me from behind and I turned my head to see Alex standing in the field in his pajama pants and t-shirt, his eyes dark and brooding.

  His eyes skipped over to Michael and then back to me urgently, “It’s better if you don’t talk to him.”

  “Do my eyes deceive me?” Michael’s voice was like a blade slicing through the night and then he laughed without humor, “What a wonderful coincidence. I was just about to explain to my new warden the extent of my crimes. It will be helpful to have a witness who was there to back me up, Alex.”

  Alex remained silent and did not move forward. I turned back to Michael, realization flashing across my mind like a bitter wind, “You know each other?”

  “Indeed, my dear.” Michael had relaxed visibly, crossing his arms, and falling back into a carefree demeanor that did not seem to flow all the way up to his eyes. They were still harshly narrowed as he looked on Alex with clear suspicion.

  “Of course, when I last saw him, he looked somewhat different. You’ve added some years on, haven’t you Alex?”

  “This isn’t the time to get into it, Michael.”

  “She doesn’t know, does she? Well, now this is interesting.” He moved closer to me, close enough that I could see the tiny black flecks in the chilly blue of his eyes and feel the waves of dark hate flowing from him as he regarded Alex, “Are you here to protect her then, pretty boy? Are you going to save her from me?”

  Oh, God. His voice. Even though my brain screamed out against it, I could feel a beguiling warmth curling through me. I struggled to push it back and ignore what my body was telling me it wanted. I’d never felt a need as great as this. It felt like my very soul was crying out for it. For him. I wanted his arms locked around me, his mouth on me, that delicious voice whispering into my ear. It felt like an inferno was beginning inside me, little flames reaching up inside me and burning my throat. What was this?

  Vampire. He is a vampire, Sarah. He is not human, I told myself. It took a staggering effort for me to do it, but I managed to make my feet step away, back to Alex. Safe, but empty somehow. The fire inside me died down a little, dampened by the cold protection of Alex standing beside me.

  “Let’s go, Sarah.”

  I turned back only once as Alex guided me away. I caught Michael’s stare with my own, trying to find something redeemable in him, anything at all. As I sent my silly wish out to the universe, Michael’s eyes widened slightly. Something softened him momentarily. I felt a sigh escape me as he turned and disappeared.

  Rays of bright penetrating light had swept across my down comforter and into my face. Rubbing my eyes in confusion, I turned to the alarm clock and shot up in bed. It was 8 a.m. I should have been up hours before, helping Nelly get breakfast for the Millers, the big group of ten who had rented the family cabin.

  I shrugged into a clean turtleneck sweater and the same worn pair of jeans I had worn before and rushed down to the kitchen, already hearing the laughter and bickering of children coming from the dining room. When I entered the kitchen, I found Nelly frying a pan of eggs and Alex dumping biscuits into a basket lined with a linen towel. The sausage was already cooked and still steaming on a serving plate on the butcher block.

  “Why didn’t you guys wake me up?” I demanded, grabbing the egg mixture from the refrigerator to start the French toast. I slammed the door shut and turned to find them both staring at me, perplexed. Then Alex flashed one of his heart-breaking grins and put the biscuit pan on the counter next to the sink.

  “Chill out, boss lady. We figured you could use a morning sleeping in. We had it covered.”

  I glared at him half-heartedly, “This isn’t your job, Alex.”

  He laughed brightly, “I go where I’m needed. Besides, we had some extra help.”

  “The kids want some hot chocolate, Nelly.” My sister, Katie strode into the kitchen with a pot of coffee in her hand and a towel over one arm.

  “Katie?” My heart fluttered when I saw her familiar smile across the kitchen. She put down the coffee pot and came over to wrap her arms around me.

  “Hey, sis.” Her eyes, as warm and brown as our father’s had been, studied my face intently. Her super curly black hair fell across her shoulders just as it always had. It had taken most of her life to accept the fact that her curls were beautiful and not a burden.

  However, it was Katie’s warmth and understanding that had always stood out. Her ability to reach into me and pull out the thoughts that I would want to remain hidden. She had a way of reasoning with me, comforting me, and urging me in the direction of something more positive than my dark mind tended to dwell on.

  Knowing her abilities to get inside my head had never been more frightening to me. Protecting her was foremost in my muddled mind. I could not imagine telling her about the contents of our grandfather’s journal, much less about our guest in the meadow. But she would insist on it.

  She smiled at me winningly, “I think we can trust these two to finish things up here so you and I can catch up on our girl talk. What do you think, Alex?” She flashed him a look of inquiry.

  “Leave it to Nelly and me.” He agreed, grabbing a stack of plates from the china cabinet, “Of course, if we don’t get this food to the Millers in the next few seconds, I’m going to end up stuffing it into my own mouth. It all looks delicious.”

  Nelly smacked his hand when he reached for a piece of sausage and waved us out, “We’ve got it, girls. You two grab some coffee and go catch up.”

  “Tell me.” She said.

  We had settled ourselves into a long wicker sofa on the bright back porch, holding our coffee mugs and sipping at it slowly. She had sat cross-legged on the floral cushions; her shoes had been dropped quickly under the coffee table before us. In comparison, I felt stiff and reluctant to begin. Katie had always been so much more comfortable in her own body than I was. It was petty for me to feel jealous when things were so screwed up, but I shot her an irritated glance anyway.

  “Which part?” I grumbled, wrapping my cold hands more firmly around the hot mug.

  She rolled her eyes, “The first part, dork. Dr. Fleming’s visit?”

  “Oh.” That heavy feeling of depression sank back into me, “He had some news.”

  “News about what?”

  I took a shaky breath and looked at her, “It’s bad, Katie-bug.”

  When I began to explain about what really happened to our mother, I tried not to notice how her expression faltered. I hated watching the light in her eyes go dull and dark. Then angry.

  She slammed a hand down on the coffee table but I was not able to grab my coffee b
efore some it sloshed onto the glass top.

  “What kind of mother does that?” She rose from her seat and began pacing across the porch, seething with the news that she did actually have a mother, but that mother had chosen to leave her children.

  “I don’t know the reason, Katie. But we have some information to go on. If you want to find out. If you want to talk to her.” I really hoped she would not want to go that route.

  She stopped and stared at me for a moment, as if seeing me for the first time. There was desperation in that familiar face. There was anger, hurt and questions begging to be asked. However, for the first time in her life, Katie used one of my own tactics against emotional trauma. She quite suddenly cut herself out of it.