Angel's Guardian: A Contemporary Vampire Romance (10 page)

CHAPTER
18

Angel’s face was taut with worry and concern as she cleaned and tended to Max’s many cuts. It seemed that coming home with bleeding stab wounds was becoming a habit for the vampire. According to the movies, they were supposed to be super fast and nearly invincible, but Max was proving to be the exception.

“I spent years living with degenerate, world-class criminals, and seldom did any come back bleeding and riddled with cuts and, definitely not, on a nightly basis. How could any wife or companion deal with this?”

“That’s immaterial. I keep no wife or lover. Besides,” he momentarily looked at her, “this is not usual. For some ungodly reason, I’m now besieged with people wanting something from me.”

“At least, you can be thankful they did not come at you with guns,” answered Angel. “It takes much more skill and effort to hurt someone with a sword.” She looked at the swords on the counter with something akin to gratefulness. “You’d not survive guns easily.”

Max flushed red and looked down in secret guilt. “Yes, well, my people are old fashioned in that. They think of modern guns as unsporting and cowardly.”

“Good. I’d dread to think of you involved in nightly gun fights. My enemies are not so gallant. They will come at you with machine guns and grenade launchers. Do not get complacent. Maybe you should learn to shoot and carry a gun. Just in case.” She took a hold of his beard and pulled him up to view a shallow slash on his cheek.

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” he answered, keeping his gaze away from her honest eyes. Seeking to change the subject, he went on. “You may be right in another point. Tonight, there was an instant when my hair got in the way, and for a moment, I had to sweep it back to see my target. I mean my attackers.”

Angel looked at once excited. “Let me cut it. I’m very good with hair. Let me clean you up and see what wonders hide under all that matted fuzz. What is more important, your hair  or your life? A second taken to brush your hair or beard out of your eyes, can be a second too long.”

Taking his silence for acceptance, she ran to the bathroom and pulled out the appropriate implements and lined them up on the table. Not wanting to give him time to change his mind, she led him to the sink and turning on the water on full, insisted on washing his hair at the sink.

She stood over him as she scrubbed his scalp, her fingers rubbing and massaging, the warm water sluicing through her hands. The pleasure of her touch was intense and sweet, like the high, extended violin note on an adagio. Max’s senses thrummed as the waves of sensation washed over him.   

Minutes later, he sat at the chair again as she combed through his wet, matted hair. She labored to be gentle, working from the tips up to the scalp.

“This is going to take a while,” she murmured. “There are too many tangles.”

“Yes,” he moaned contentedly. “Take as long as you want.”

Angel combed and then she brushed, making sure that the scalp was well massaged. Under her hand, the vampire hummed and vibrated in pleasure, and she was well aware of it as she smiled and brushed some more.

She parted and separated the sections to begin cutting. She did not want to give him her father’s haircut. Something casual but updated would be best. She would leave it longish at first and shorten it as she saw how it fell.

As the hair began to fall, the texture and color of it took new form. She found that it seemed straighter and lighter, a dark blond. It was thick, and brushed and cut to just touch the collar, it was very nice. She found that it naturally divided at the side, and she cut it slightly shorter on the lesser side. Content with the job she did on the hair, she turned to the beard.

“Do you trust me not to cut you? The razor blade is designed for a woman’s use. It’s virtually accident proof.”

Max was in a daze of pleasure he did not wish to end. For an hour now the female had touched, combed, brushed, caressed, smoothed, and overall lulled him into a somnolent state he wished to stay in. “Do what you will. I trust you implicitly.”

Angel brimmed with happiness. She gently and meticulously applied shaving cream and began her labor of love. With utmost care, she removed inch by inch of the hideous covering, laying bare smooth and pale skin that had not seen daylight or nightlight, for that matter, in years. As she bared patches, she wiped them with a wet washcloth.

What emerged, shocked her to her marrow. Under the hideous beard lay hidden the most incredible jaw line, and a strong chin worthy of the most dashing Hollywood hero. His cheeks, which she had thought might be heavy and fleshy, were not. His shaved face was actually beautiful, firm, symmetrical.

Now, she could see the mouth, strong and wide, so kissable. As she held his face in her hands, tilting it up to the light, his dark, almost navy-blue eyes, sparkled in contrast to the flawlessly pale skin. Angel sighed. She had uncovered a beautiful man.

Max stood at the mirror in the bathroom as Angel cleaned and put away her implements. The face that stared back at him was one he recognized. It was one he had not seen in many, many years, but he was honest enough to accept that it was a handsome one even by today’s standards.

It would attract attention, he knew. He was not sure how he felt about that. One thing did please him: the girl was definitely partial to his face. Not that she had ever been repelled by him, but the sideways looks she kept giving him were definitely of the pleased variety.

“It will be interesting to see how Nina reacts to my new face when she wakes up.” Max winced as he turned, the cut in his side smarting badly now. “I need to rest. It’s been a busy night.”

Upstairs, Nina was fast asleep at the foot of his bed. She’d refused to sleep anywhere else since the night of the window scare. Max was forced to change his routine. He went to his bathroom and donned the pajama bottoms he now kept hanging from a peg.

Angel plumped his pillows and smoothed his bed sheets. She covered him after checking his bandages, and then took her place at his side, facing him. In his portable pen, baby Marco stirred and went back to sleep instantly.

“It was not my intent to intrude and disrupt your routine so much,” she whispered in the dark. “We took over the first floor, then your bedroom, your life. I’m so sorry.”

“It isn’t so bad, and it is temporary. I will probably miss the whole mess when you go.”

“I want to go, Max. I mean, I love being here, with you. You’re my miracle, but I have to make a proper life for my kids. I have to find us a home of our own, a safe, permanent one. I just don’t know where to start, Max.”

“Don’t think about it now. There is no reason to worry about it this moment. It will all work out, in time.” Max reached out and touched her face, rubbing his thumb over her lower lip. He leaned over and kissed her once, twice, and then a third time. He lingered over her lips, breathing in as she exhaled, and then he pulled back and went back to his sleeping position.

The kiss was now a nightly ritual. He feared that if the children were not in the room, the kiss would lead to more. He definitely longed for more. For that reason, the children would stay. They needed to stay.

Max dreamed. It was a painful, miserable nightmare. In it, Angel and the babes were not to be found. Max searched in vain, canvassing every alley, leaping every roof top, desperation driving him mad. The sun was almost up when he finally spied a bundle at the dark mouth of an alley.

He approached the huddled figure, knowing what awaited him, would break him. Terrified to look upon the face, Max trembled, and waited, waited, waited... until the first shaft of sunlight broke through to burn his flesh with unholy pain.

Max awakened with a start and sat on the bed struggling to breathe. He had not experienced a nightmare in years, since he was a child. Next to him, the woman slept deeply as the first rays of the sun peaked over the horizon. He laid his head back down and thought about what he must do.

CHAPTER
19

Angel and the children were not home when he got up that evening. He took a shower, admired his new look, dressed with more care than usual to match his new, clean-cut image. He then went to his desk and worked to stay busy, every so often looking at the clock and trying not to worry.

When he heard voices downstairs, his heart lightened, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Looking down over the banister, he watched as Angel began the task of unwrapping Nina, who looked like a little Eskimo. Baby Marco was still in his stroller.

Max vaulted over the banister and went to help. He rolled the baby’s stroller to the kitchen and began to extricate the baby from it and from his winter trappings. Glad to be free, the baby kicked, cooed, and spit happily in that order. Max picked him up and made faces at little Marco to make him smile.

Nina came in the kitchen and made a running dash for Max. He held the baby in one arm, and pulled her up to sit on his hip with the other arm. The little girl hugged and kissed him.

“What happened to you? Where is your hair? Where is your beard? I don’t like it.”

“You don’t? Why not? I look handsome now.”

“But I liked you fuzzy and warm, like a Teddy bear.”

Angel came in carrying a bag full of groceries. She smiled at him and shook her head. “I told you she wouldn’t like it. You look much younger now and vastly different.”

“I see,” said Max, addressing the little girl. “You don’t love me anymore?”

“Of course I do,” she answered. “I love you, but I’ll love you better if you let your hair grow back.”

“Well, you’ll have to negotiate that with your mother. She’s the hair sheriff in this house.”

“We got Bear Paws, Max. You want some?”

“Why on earth would you want bear paws? I would think that if you saw those, you would run for your life.” He put Nina back down and placed the baby inside the pen.

“You’re so silly, Max.” The little girl rolled her eyes, implying that Max was not too bright. “Not real bear paws, but the ice cream. It’s called Bear Paws and is so, so good!”

“Ahh, ice cream. Ice cream in the middle of winter. Just what I always wanted. Yum!” He watched Angel putting things away.

“We went to McDonald’s for dinner. It means I can skip cooking today.”

“Yes, and Max can have Bear Paws for dinner,” Nina said, hoping to share his meal. The vampire stood watching the little family move around, Nina scrolling through TV channels, her mother pottering about, giving him sidelong glances.

“I need to give the children their baths. Are you going out tonight? It may be better if you stayed in and worked at your accounts. Give your injuries a chance to heal.”

“Maybe later on, but for now, I’m staying here. Go tend to the kids. We can watch a movie together later.”

As soon as the young mother took the kids for their bath, Max went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of fruit punch. He poured it into a large glass, capping and placing the bottle back in the fridge. He stood over the full glass for what seemed an eternity, struggling with his feelings.

At the end, he gave in. From the cutlery drawer, he took out a small, sharp paring knife. He placed it over his wrist and cut. Holding the bleeding cut over the glass, he allowed his blood to pour into the juice.

“Max, what happened to your wrist? You haven’t left the house tonight and now you have another injury?”

“It’s nothing. Just a scratch I got delving into my tool kit in the basement. I tied a bandage around it as a precaution.” Angel did not look convinced.

“I made you a drink,” he continued. “I need you to drink some of it and give a little to each of the kids.” He gazed at her eyes intently.

“What kind of drink? Why give it to the kids also?” For the first time since the night he found her, Angel seemed wary of him.

“It’s fruit punch from the refrigerator. Nothing special.”

“Why the kids?” She stared at the glass as if it had poison, then she gazed up at him with doubt and fear.

“Angel, you know I would never hurt those kids. This is to protect you all. Think of it as a magic potion. Please, trust me. Drink it and give it to them too. Do it for me.”

“That’s what most of the men said to their wives and kids at Jonestown.”

“But I am Max, vampire extraordinaire, not a monster. You told me that yourself.” Angel watched him for long moments, and then she took the glass and drank.

“Now that I showed my trust in drinking, will you show yours and tell me what I drank?”

“My blood. I cut my wrist and poured my blood into your drink.”

“I thought it tasted a little coppery, but why would you give us your blood?”

“Just a little of my blood inside you will form a bond that will last until the day you die. It will not change you in any way. Well, that’s not quite the truth. A little of my blood every so often, will keep you healthier, stronger. It will also allow me to sense you where ever you are. If anyone grabs you, I will be able to find you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were giving me blood?”

“Because most humans would be disgusted and refuse it.”

Angel looked a little contrite. She took the glass and poured a little of it in the baby’s bottle. “Thank you, Max. I think this is a great idea.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s hope we never have to put it to the test.”

Later, after the children were put to bed, they sat at the table watching Underworld as Max criticized and laughed at the special effects. He realized how uncomfortable watching TV at a table was.

“We need furniture for the living room. It would be much more comfortable watching a movie from a couch.”

“Rooms to Go stays open late,” she answered.

“We’ll go tomorrow. Then we can take a trip to Vampmart and pick up other movies for Nina. I think I’ve seen enough of
Frozen
to last me a lifetime. That’s a long time for a vamp.”

Angel watched the handsome male making plans, and her heart ached. If only!