A Guardian's Touch

by Stein Willard

 

  Tahlia relaxed a bit, but her black eyes continued to stay fixed on the man. She could sense his shock at seeing such a beautiful woman alone in such a dangerous area and was weighing his actions. The lust that welled within him when he saw Jemima made Tahlia’s fangs lengthen as jealousy ripped through her body. Jemima was dressed in tight faded blue jeans and a white tank top, which stretched tightly over her full breasts. Not even she could resist the sight. How was this poor mortal to resist Jemima’s charms? Tahlia watched as the scene unfolded.

  “Hi, pretty lady. You seem to be lost.” His attention, now fully focused on Jemima, gave the other woman the chance to escape and run down the alley. The man had sworn under his breath at the lost opportunity with the woman, but he quickly returned his attention to Jemima and smiled. Tahlia read his thoughts: This bitch is even better looking than the other one. She saw his manhood swell as his eyes scanned Jemima’s full breasts. He licked his lips.

  “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, Robert?” Jemima said.

  Tahlia saw the man stiffen at hearing his name.

  “How do you know my name, bitch? You a cop?” His body language changed immediately and he became more aggressive.

  “No, but I believe in justice. You were about to commit an injustice to an innocent woman.” Jemima’s voice was silky soft.

  To Tahlia’s ears, the tones were clipped and the gentleness forced.

  Robert reached out to grab Jemima. A deep growl escaped Tahlia’s throat at the sight of the meaty hand on Jemima’s fragile wrist.

 

 

  “We all have our crosses to bear, and I have had my fair share of trouble.”

  He tried to pull Jemima closer, but when she didn’t budge, he frowned. “You seem to be a tough cookie, but after I’m done with you, you will beg me to stop.”

  Jemima reached out and took his hand, loosening his fingers one by one from her wrist. With her other hand, she clasped around his throat and lifted him slowly off the ground. Once his feet were dangling, the man started to scream insults.

  “Put me down, you…you…freak.”

  Jemima did as he asked, but didn’t step away immediately. Without warning, she tilted the man’s neck to one side and bit down. Tahlia blinked in shock. She never dreamed she would see this happen so soon. After a while, Jemima dropped the man’s limp body. Alarmed, Tahlia stepped closer, anxiously praying that the man was still alive. She had meticulously imprinted all the laws of the Race in Jemima’s mind, making sure that Jemima knew that taking a life during feeding was prohibited. Only she, Jonas, and Pierre possessed the power to do that. When Tahlia reached Jemima, she could see the man trying to sit up, dazed and weak from blood loss, but nonetheless alive. She heaved a sigh of relief.

  She looked into Jemima’s eyes and found them dark and indecipherable. Tahlia had quickly erased the man’s mind, leaving a vague memory of an all-night drinking spree followed by a major alcohol-infused blackout to explain his physical state. When she turned back to Jemima, she saw confused and haunted blue eyes. Immediately, she knew what had happened. When Jemima bit Robert, she also tapped into his inner-most sanctuary, his deepest, darkest memories, and fantasies. Jemima had relived every crime he had committed as well as the pain and fear his victims had experienced.

  It had taken Tahlia several conversations, a few hours of vigorous lovemaking later that night, and a few more nights afterwards to dispel the horrific memories milling around in Jemima’s head. But the haunting look in her eyes still remained. That was when she gently began to counsel her lover. Using her memories and past experiences as reference, she patiently coaxed Jemima from the dark place Robert’s memories sent her. A few days later, Jemima was back to her old self, playfully cracking jokes and making love with the same lustful abandon as before.

  †

  For the rest of the two weeks, the couple spent most of their nights in the library where Tahlia narrated the rest of the Vampire Race’s history and used a number of books on the shelves as references. It was during one of these sessions that Jemima stumbled upon an interesting piece of information. The passage stated that a great number of vampire females were bisexual, and the men in the Race didn’t object much to same-sex affairs amongst their women. Reference was made to the Great Vampire Queen who was the most sought-after companion, but whose heart was held captive by a mortal woman. Reading further, Jemima found that, despite knowing this, many women still tried their best to entice Tahlia. There were claims over the centuries from a few women who stated that the Queen bedded them.

  Jemima couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal that bubbled to the surface. Tahlia never mentioned any other lovers. In the two months since she and Tahlia had become lovers, she had found her noble lover to be brutally honest and very trustworthy. Since she shared Tahlia’s blood now, it was easy for her to read the vampire’s mind too. She knew Tahlia never would lie to her or omit such an important piece of information. Yet, even as she was telling herself that, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Tahlia had bedded others while waiting for her reincarnation. She had firsthand experience of Tahlia‘s insatiable sex drive. No matter how many times they made love during the night, Tahlia seemed to generate more hunger with every earth-shattering climax. After considering that, Jemima realized that it must have been almost unbearable for Tahlia to withhold herself from the charms of other women for decades on end.

  Just the thought of Tahlia in another woman’s arms unsettled her so much that she slammed the book shut. She needed some fresh air to help clear her mind. As much as it bothered her, she kept herself from approaching Tahlia about the issue. If it was important, Tahlia would’ve told her about her other lovers. Still, doubt lingered just under the surface.

  †

  Jemima was sitting on a bench in the middle of Central Park, looking up at the stars, when she felt a presence behind her. She spun around and found Tahlia standing a few feet away. Her long black hair was loose, her head tilted slightly to one side. Jemima couldn’t help but stare at the incredibly sexy woman. Her woman. She was wearing black as usual and stood with her arms clasped behind her back.

  She felt Tahlia in her mind, trying to read her thoughts, but she quickly blocked her intrusion. It was only three weeks since she converted and she was already bored by their routine. During the day, she and Tahlia slept in their underground chamber until dusk. Then they would go out to feed together. After that, it was back to the library for her while Tahlia went out to hunt renegades. If her father and Rafina were in, they would play chess and chat until Tahlia returned. But most of the time she was alone, watching TV or pouring over the day’s newspapers. Tonight she had decided to do things differently. She never was the house-sitting type and the sooner Tahlia knew that the better.

  Tahlia was still standing and staring at her. “Would you mind me joining you?” Her voice carried to Jemima on the cool night breeze.

  Jemima nodded and patted the space next to her. Tahlia walked to the bench and Jemima couldn’t help but admire the way she moved. It was so fluid, like that of a feline, her hips swaying slightly with every step. She smiled when Tahlia came to sit very close to her; so close, in fact, that their thighs were touching. Jemima inhaled the natural earthy scent of Tahlia and sighed with appreciation. She smelled like the earth after the first rain. It was intoxicating and a powerful aphrodisiac. She leaned closer and pressed her nose into Tahlia’s hair. Yes, definitely an aphrodisiac.

  Tahlia turned to face her and her black eyes were so tender, that Jemima couldn’t resist lifting her face for a kiss. The meeting of their lips was so tender; it almost brought tears to her eyes. Tahlia truly loved her—unconditionally.

  “You look so beautiful sitting here, bathed in moonlight.”

  “Me?” Jemima grinned. “You should have s
een yourself standing there just now looking at me. You’re the sexiest woman I know.”

  Tahlia laughed. The sound was so deep and husky that Jemima felt the heat starting to spread in the pit of her stomach. This woman had turned her into a nymphomaniac. All she thought about nowadays were the nights spent in Tahlia’s arms.

  “You do not have to flirt with me to get what you want, my love. When it comes to you, I have absolutely no morals.”

  They sat, holding hands, in silence for a long time. While sitting in the quiet park with the woman she loved more than life itself, Jemima was truly happy. The only dark cloud was the memory of what she’d read in the tome over the past week. She had tried to hide her feelings from Tahlia, but Tahlia knew her better than even her father did.

  Tahlia gently took Jemima’s hand in hers, and looked into her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” Tahlia brought Jemima’s hand to her lips, placing herself in a vulnerable position by bending her head to reach the hand she held.

  Unable to see Tahlia’s eyes, Jemima relaxed.

  “And please do not lie to me, because I have sensed your inner turmoil for the past week.”

  Jemima sighed deeply. “Have…have you ever been with another woman besides me…the reincarnated me, I mean?”

  Tahlia looked up and Jemima saw the confusion in her eyes. She looked away. “I found a book in the library about Vampire social behavior, and they made reference to you. There are claims in the book that you were sleeping with other women, too. I know it was before my time, but…but…” She didn’t know how to continue and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she found the black eyes resting calmly on her.

  “You have been in my mind, Jemima. The memories you have been privy to were uncensored. You would have encountered these so-called lovers somewhere in my past.”

  “You are extremely powerful, Tahlia…more powerful than any other being alive. You could’ve blocked those memories from me.” Once the words were out, Jemima regretted them immediately. She knew that no matter in which century Tahlia found herself, she still lived by the Old World code. It was a world where honor was highly rated and where retribution, if and when that honor was tarnished was swift and just. Jemima had insulted Tahlia by virtually calling her a liar. She looked into Tahlia’s expressionless gaze. There was no anger—nothing—just those unblinking, obsidian eyes looking straight into her soul.

  “There are still a few hours of darkness left before dawn. We need to leave now if we are to reach our destination in time.” Tahlia came to her feet and held out her hand.

  Rattled by Tahlia’s composure, Jemima quickly came to her feet and took a step away. She looked more closely at Tahlia and could see that she was indeed holding her anger in check. The strain made her fury radiate in waves of barely concealed menace.

  “Are you coming with me out of your own free will or not?”

  Unnerved, by Tahlia’s strange behavior, Jemima quickly placed her hand in Tahlia's outstretched hand. Almost immediately, a kaleidoscope of bright colors engulfed them both.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The next time Jemima opened her eyes, they were standing in a huge candlelit room. Unnerved by the sudden change in location, as well as the strange aura of the place, Jemima tightened her grip on Tahlia’s hand. She felt the larger hand firmly clasp hers, and she knew she had the protection of her powerful lover. Slowly, she began to inspect her surroundings.

  The room was empty and had an antique feel. As she studied the numerous priceless medieval artifacts and paintings, her eyes widened. She instinctively knew they were all originals. Her eyes took in the antique furniture, the heavy draperies that covered the walls, and the hand-made marble tiles that covered the floor. Jemima quietly absorbed the immense wealth surrounding her.

  She turned to Tahlia and found the black eyes staring at her somberly. Her anger had mellowed a bit, and her eyes had lost the blank look of earlier. Jemima mouthed a cheeky ‘wow’ and smiled when she saw Tahlia’s eyes soften slightly and the corners of her beautiful mouth curve upwards. She felt the tension leave her body at Tahlia’s effort to smile. She knew all would be well soon.

  She didn’t hear anyone approaching them but saw the shadow reflected in Tahlia’s black eyes. She turned to find a tall, attractive man standing behind her. His expressionless brown eyes were resting on her. Only when Tahlia spoke, did the brown eyes move to seek out Tahlia’s.

  “Once you are done staring at my guest, perhaps you can remember your manners and we can attempt a conversation.”

  Tahlia’s voice sounded faintly amused and Jemima looked at the man closely to see his reaction. She gaped at the vampire when he actually winked at her.

  “She is extremely beautiful, Your Highness.” His brown eyes were warm as they rested on Tahlia. “Her presence here must mean that she is now one of us.” His handsome face split with a grin. “What a great addition to the Race.”

  “Mendelone, we will be staying for a day. Please ask Sorokin to prepare our chamber for us.”

  Mendelone. The author! Jemima couldn’t help but stare at the vampire with awe. The great Mendelone! She had spent hours in the library reading bundle after bundle of his historical accounts of the Vampire Race. She couldn’t wait to tell Joan that she’d actually met him—the slayer would be so envious.

  Jemima blinked when he winked at her again and quickly glanced Tahlia’s way. The black eyes were staring coolly at a grinning Mendelone.

  Tahlia turned her gaze on Jemima. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

  Still puzzled by Tahlia’s mood, she nodded quickly. Whatever she wanted to show her must be very important for Tahlia to imply the use of force had she refused to come with her of her own free will. With a flick of Tahlia's hand, the heavy oak doors swung open onto a large balcony. Jemima gasped at the view. They were in some sort of castle on top of a mountain. Spread out below them was a village surrounded by a harsh mountain range. Home fires flickered everywhere reminding her of small fireflies against the pitch-black backdrop of the night and the imposing mountains.

  “Where are we?” She looked up at Tahlia and found a soft smile on her lips.

  “We are in Romania—the cradle of our Race. We all trace our origins to this small village.” Her voice had a melancholic sound to it. “The village still looks as it did thousands of years ago.”

  Jemima stared at Tahlia in shock. So this was Lecrac’s hidden vampire village. She had read about it in one of the tomes in the library. A high thick wall surrounded the village and the streets made of cobblestone. Who would’ve thought a place like this—where time had stopped more than two-thousand years ago—existed in the 20st century.

  “It still looks the same as it did the night my mother brought me here to Lecrac’s castle. Nothing has changed since then. A powerful invisibility spell cast by Lecrac almost three thousand years ago shields its exact location. Only Pierre, Jonas, and I have knowledge of the spell and how to break it, but only if the three of us work at it together.”

  Jemima touched Tahlia’s arm and once the black eyes focused on her, she asked, “Why did you bring me here?”

  “I have a slight hunch as to who might have been the source the author used in his book.” The black eyes were unreadable. “But since we are here, I could just as well show you around.”

  She felt Tahlia pull her closer against her body. “Hold on tight.” With a lithe movement, Tahlia took two quick steps and propelled them into the air.

  Jemima held on to Tahlia for dear life, while at the same time trying to appreciate the view. The village was nestled in the curve of the mountain range, complete with a waterfall and a thick forest. If only vampires stayed in the village, where did they get their blood from?

  They landed at the end of a quiet cobbled street. Tahlia took her hand into hers as they strode down the road. Jemima was surprised that many villagers called out greetings to Tahlia. She obviously was well-known and respected. An earlier thought came back. “If ev
eryone here is a vampire, where do you hunt?”

  Tahlia didn’t look at her. “Not everyone here is a vampire, but we hunt outside the village. We kept the village in a medieval state, but the rest of the world still lives in the twentieth century. Just across the mountain range, you will find Bucharest, the capitol of Romania. Most of our Race is spread around the world, residing in major cities to hunt renegades.”

  They’d ventured deeper into the village and came to a halt in front of a small house next to a crudely built chapel.

 

  Jemima looked at Tahlia and found her face set sternly. Whoever was on the other side of the door must’ve been very naughty indeed for the Vampire Queen to be so angry. The door swung open and Jemima stared at the exquisite woman who stood in the doorway. Her blue eyes smiled into Tahlia’s dark ones, and she completely ignored Tahlia’s reproachful expression. The woman named Gillian stepped out and bowed low. The action caused her loose white blouse to part, exposing beautifully formed breasts to both Jemima and Tahlia.

  Tahlia frowned and kept her gaze unreadable.

  A low throaty laugh escaped Gillian’s lips. “I apologize for my attire, my Queen. I just got out of bed a few minutes ago.” She straightened and even though she was tall she still had to tilt her head a little to look into Tahlia’s face.

  “This is my mate, Jemima.”

  The blue eyes that had been smiling at Tahlia seconds earlier came to rest on her with intense aversion. Jemima knew that without much effort, they had managed to smoke out the source of the misinformation. There was no doubt that Gillian wanted Tahlia, and Jemima supposed she would stop at nothing to get her. Why did I have to be the one who opened this anthill? And what for? Just because I’m jealous? She turned to look at Tahlia. Now, she, too, knew the identity of the rumormonger.