Guardian's Hope (44 page)

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Authors: Jacqueline Rhoades

Tags: #vampires, #paranormal, #love story, #supernatural, #witches, #vampire romance, #pnr, #roamance

BOOK: Guardian's Hope
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Twenty minutes after that, she pulled the
Mustang into a slot just vacated by an erratically driven
Volkswagen. As soon as she was out of the car, she removed her
leather jacket and folded it neatly away in the trunk. No need to
tempt passersby by leaving it on the seat. She’d be cold without
it, but there was nothing unusual about that. She’d been cold for a
very long time.

She beeped the lock and tucked the key
securely in her pocket before taking off at a near run into the
heart of the warehouse district. She slowed to a walk when she
started to come across people walking the other way.

JJ recognized the three young men in the
group coming toward her. She didn’t know their names, but she’d
seen them around and one of them had tried to hit on her or
whatever they called it these days. Was he trying to add an older
woman to his list of conquests or did she look like she was only
twenty? She hadn’t talked to him long enough to find out. Snarling
one of her usual cutting remarks, she’d sent him on his way to the
great amusement of his friends.

The group passed with her would-be date
self-consciously looking the other way. A dark haired young woman
smiled and nodded her head as if in recognition. JJ returned the
nod, but didn’t smile. She wasn’t in the habit of encouraging
friendliness.

There was something odd about the group,
nothing overt, but every time she saw them or others like them, her
cop’s sixth sense always niggled at the back of her mind. Their
clothes were too new, too put together, almost like costumes taken
from a movie set. They weren’t comfortable wearing them, either.
The girls were always tugging at the hems of their short skirts;
the guys always reaching for ties that weren’t there. JJ thought of
them as ‘others’ when she thought of them at all.

She shook her head at her own distraction.
When had being too clean cut become a crime? Tonight she was on the
job. Not her official cop job, but a job nonetheless. She needed to
keep her head in the game.

JJ knew she was headed in the right
direction as the music increased in volume and something sweet was
added to the usual smell of oil and grease and rusted metal that
permeated the district. If a substance could be smoked, it was
being smoked right here. Once you were in the area, the aroma alone
would lead the way. A miasma of herbs, spices, and the always
available marijuana floated through the narrow alleys, the Hansel
and Gretel breadcrumbs of the rave scene.

Rizzo was on the door tonight and he waved
her in without bothering to collect her ticket. Tall, broadly built
with the face of an angry bulldog, he was one of her street
acquaintances and he winked as she passed by. A blast of heat hit
her as she entered and she was glad she’d braved the cold and left
her jacket behind. This party had started hours ago and between the
drinking, frenzied dancing and the side effects of certain drugs,
the place was a furnace of body heat.

JJ paused just inside the door to allow her
eyes and ears to adjust to the pounding noise and flashing lights
inside. Bodies writhed to the heavy techno beat; in pairs, in
groups and alone. Laughter, shouting, squeals and shrieks combined
with the music to echo off the uninsulated ceiling in a cacophony
of chaos. She wove her way carefully through the crowd, saw, as she
always did; enough drug buys to keep a cop buried in paperwork for
a month and finally squeezed through the throng packed around the
bar to snag a beer from one of the overworked bartenders.

From there she worked her way around to the
edges of the crowd and began to circle the room constantly scanning
for something only she could see. The hunt was on.

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Nardo hunched into the turned up collar of
his jacket and stuffed his hands back in the pockets. “I hate
winter.”

“The professor says it’s not really winter
until the solstice, whatever that is.” The cold didn’t seem to
bother Dov. He walked with his jacket thrown open by the wind,
showing off the wide chest that stretched taut the fabric of his
white tee.

“I don’t care what the date is. It’s
twenty-eight degrees out here. It’s winter. Fuck the solstice and
the professor too.”

“I don’t think you want to do that,” Dov
smirked. He and his twin, Col, were the youngest members of their
House of Guardians, and while the lilies emblazoned on their left
pectorals along with the ribbon of banner that read ‘Paenitet me’-
I repent, announced them as adult males, neither had the black
skull and red tears proclaiming them to be full Guardians of the
Race.

“Do what?” Nardo asked, only half listening.
He was thinking of cutting off the pony tail that hung halfway down
his back. It was hard to keep his collar up with it sticking out
and was uncomfortable when he tucked it inside.

“Fuck the professor.” Dov deadpanned. He
shuddered. “I got this picture in my head and it wasn’t
pretty.”

Nardo laughed and playfully shoved the
younger Paenitentia into the nearest wall. Laughing, Dov threw his
hands up in surrender.

“Hey, I’m just saying…”

“Where is Broadbent, anyway?” Broadbent’s
preference for tweed jackets, a pipe, and long winded explanations
had earned him the title of professor and he was scheduled as
Nardo’s partner for tonight.

“Had to meet his father in New York. It was
a last minute thing. The guy called Canaan like the professor was
twelve or something.” Dov puffed out his chest and deepened his
voice. “I say, old chap, have a stop-over in New York and I need to
see the heir. You’ll send him along, won’t you? There’s a good
lad.”

Nardo snorted at Dov’s dead on imitation.
“He probably went through Canaan because Broadbent would say no.
The old man calls him once a week wanting to meet with him about
business or anything else that might keep him away from us.”

“Canaan thought he’d be back in time for his
shift what with it getting dark so early, but when the professor
didn’t show, Fearless Leader said I had to.”

Nardo punched Dov’s arm, this time none too
gently. “Show some respect.”

Canaan was their Liege Lord and they served
at his command. They lived and worked in his House of Guardians
along with four other members and three of their mates and Nardo
still had trouble calling him boss, as Canaan preferred, instead of
the traditional “My Lord”.

“I got respect.” The blonde giant danced
around Nardo boxing the air. “So, you gonna to tell me why we left
the docks halfway through the shift to come over here?” He waved
his hand at the acres of warehouses.

“Canaan got a call from the Director of the
Moonlight Sanctuary Association. Seems they’re having trouble
keeping some of the youngbloods on the rez. They’ve been coming
into town, hitting the clubs, partying. You know the drill. Same
thing you and Col do.”

Dov made a rude gesture near his crotch and
wiggled his eyebrows. “I got needs, bro, and nobody says we’re
supposed to be monks. Those guys on the rez got my sympathy. You
ever been to one of those dances out there?”

“My family and yours don’t run in the same
circles, Dov. I’m not likely to get an invitation to Moonlight
Sanctuary.”

“Consider yourself lucky. It’s like 1955.
Canaan makes us go a few times a year ‘cause he promised Mom he’d
make sure we were introduced to ‘decent women’. Then he goes and
bonds to Grace.” Dov raised his hands in defense. “Who’s number one
in my book, but probably at the bottom of the Councils, but he
still makes us go to the damn cotillions. Gracie, the big traitor,
backs him up.”

“You’re an adult. You can say no.” Nardo
gave him a sidelong glance and snickered, “Or are you afraid?”

“Of Canaan and Grace? Nah.” Dov waved them
off with his hand. “But my mom? Be afraid. Be very afraid.” He
shuddered in mock fear.

Nardo wondered what it would be like to have
a mother who still cared. The twins’ mother called at least once a
week, wanting a rundown of what was happening in their lives and
giving loads of unwanted advice which mostly went in one ear and
out the other, but they knew she loved them and they loved her,
too.

His own parents had done their requisite
twenty years and cut him loose. He hadn’t heard from his father in
years. On the rare occasions when he called his mother, their
conversation was stilted and polite until Nardo asked after his
younger half-brother. She could prattle on for hours about the
scientific genius she’d borne to the man who replaced Nardo’s
father. Nardo actually liked his brother, who’d gone to school with
the twins, but it irked him that she could describe his brother’s
life in minute detail, yet never asked Nardo about anything. He
shook his head to erase his thoughts and got back to business.

“Apparently, some of these young bar hoppers
are seeking their entertainment in more out of the way places.
We’re supposed to run them down, shake our finger at their naughty
little noses and send them home.”

Dov started to dance, hands held high in the
air and hips gyrating to some unheard beat. For his size, he was
remarkably graceful. “Gotta tell you, buddy, sometimes this job is
ooo-kay. But if we’re going to rave, we’re way over dressed.”

“What?”

“We got too many clothes on. By the time we
find this place, it’s gonna be an oven. Girl’s will be down to
bikini tops or those tiny little strips of cloth.” He demonstrated
with his fingers drawing a narrow band across his chest. “Guys wear
baggy pants or shorts and lose their shirts. We need lights, kandi
necklaces, pacifiers. Half the place will be high on booze or drugs
and the other half’ll be high on the music. Looking like this,
we’re just not going to blend in.”

“And you know so much about this
because…?”

“Dude, did you not hear the part about half
naked women? Damn, Nardo, looking at pictures on the internet just
ain’t the same as looking at the real thing. You need to get out
more.”

“Never mind what I need. What we need is to
find this place, check it out and get on with it. I don’t like
playing babysitter to a bunch of pampered little shits and I like
spying on them even less.”

They found the place within minutes by
following the trail of people coming and going and cornering a
couple of young Paenitentia males along the way. Dov enjoyed
flexing his muscles and scaring the hell out of the young offenders
while Nardo stood to the side trying not to laugh. The older
generations might look down their noses at the Guardians, but the
younger ones were in awe.

They used their white light, a special
Guardian talent, to move swiftly and invisibly past the man at the
door and the two bouncers who stood just inside. Moving away from
the doors and finding a relatively secluded corner, they lost the
light and surveyed the room.

“Holy fucking shit.” Nardo ground his teeth
in frustration. The place was a sea of bodies and they had no idea
how many Sanctuary playboys were in the crowd. The flashing lights
and rapid tempo were taking up residence in his head. He saw an
overturned chair a few feet away and pointed to it.

“Sit,” he said to Dov whose eyes were
already wide and excited. “Stay. And don’t move until I tell you
to.”

“Shithead,” the young trainee mumbled, but
he righted the chair and sat as Nardo knew he would.

Starting on his left and moving clockwise,
the Guardian let his eyes trail around the room. The strobes
wreaked havoc with his night vision and he blinked frequently
against the glare until he reached the five o’clock mark of his
circle. A woman stood; waist, shoulders and head above the crowd.
Her spiky white blonde hair sparkled under the lights and her eyes
were bright as they traveled over the crowd. Her tongue slid out
and she moistened her lips so they, too, shimmered in the light.
The crowd parted and Nardo’s breath caught as her totality was
revealed; long, long, long legs encased in black leather and ending
in sturdy boots that did nothing to detract from the slender
sensuality of that lithe form.

Who was she looking for? And why should he
care? Why should she draw his attention? She was attractive in a
room filled with attractive women and yet, she stood out. She was
vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t recall the memory. Maybe Dov was
right and he needed to get out more. Who could forget a face as
beautiful as that?

The impatient tone of Dov’s voice registered
before Nardo realized his name was being called.

“What?” he asked impatiently. He reluctantly
turned away from the woman in black and then mentally slapped his
forehead. Duh! That was why she caught his attention. She was
wearing too many clothes and all of them were black. No wonder she
stood out from the crowd. His mind began to play with the idea of
what she would look like without them.

“Earth to Nardo. Earth to Nardo. Come in
please.” Dov’s nasal radio imitation came in loud and clear.

“What?” Nardo repeated, embarrassed to be
caught dreaming.

Dov grinned and pointed with his thumb.

Col was standing next to his twin with his
arm draped over the shoulders of a young Paenitentia woman who
looked up at him with adoring eyes.

Shit. No one said anything about females.
Nardo nodded to the woman in the way he’d seen Nico do it, a kind
of half bow that showed respect but wouldn’t draw too much
attention.

“Col, can I talk to you for a minute,
privately?” Nardo walked a few feet away with Col at his heels.
“How old is she?”

The Race was pretty liberal when it came to
sex. Once mated, most couples chose to forego sex with others as
part of their contract and among the blood bound, extracurricular
sex was unheard of, but there were no taboos against sex between
unmated consenting adults. The key word here was adult. For
females, the age of maturity was twenty-five and this young woman
looked like she had a few years to go.

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