Guardian (45 page)

The thought of Naomi was what pushed me out of the car. I crossed the snow-slicked Riverside Drive and began ascending the steep hill toward the house, thankful the heavy snow kept the road free of traffic. I kept to one side of the driveway, where the trees gave me some cover. This meant slogging through three inches of snow, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I was especially glad of this when a gleaming black stretch limo came up the drive, and I had to dive behind a hedge to keep myself hidden. I wasn’t sure what it was about this place that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but it certainly wasn’t just the cold. The feeling of unease, more than anything else, made me feel sure that I was on the right track.

As I reached the rise of the hill I ducked behind a large hedgerow, taking stock of the house. It looked so ordinary, with a cheerful wreath hanging from the black front doors. Yet another car came up behind me, and yet again I had to drop into the snow. This time it was a gleaming bright blue sports car, and I watched as it pulled up to the front door. The tune of
Jingle Bell Rock
spilled out as the door opened. People tumbled out, laughing too loudly, and went inside.

A Christmas party. I watched from the shadows of the snow and trees as a party bus came up and dropped off more people. They were all let inside without any hesitation. I needed entry to the house. And just like that, the plan came to me in the blink of an eye.

I ran back to my car as fast as I could in the snow and started the engine, driving back down Riverside Drive as quickly as I dared. A few minutes later I made a left on Lane Avenue and just seconds after that (totally empty roads could embolden one into speeding), I was parking at a small strip mall with a boutique, their
Open
sign still lit despite the storm.

All my previous jitters about spending money and the prices at such stores vanished. Today, all that mattered was finding Rafael. I didn’t care about anything else. And the way everything came together so quickly only convinced me that I was on the right track. The snowstorm meant the store was dead, and within minutes I had found a perfectly suitable dress. It was a cornflower blue color, with a heavily sequined bust area and plain silk down to my knees. I found strappy, low-slung heels to match, and I even got the somewhat outrageous white fur-lined cape and muff the saleswomen pressed upon me.

I let my hair free from the braid I had slept in and found it was acceptably curly, so I dashed out to my car and began the drive back to the party, listening to the dire warnings of the level three snow emergency. Snow was falling so thickly that I could barely see, but the advantage was that the roads were completely empty, so I didn’t have to worry about anything except going into a ditch. It wasn’t until I pulled into the driveway next to the few parked cars there that I realized the cape hadn’t been a splurge at all. It was voluminous enough for me to hide most of my other clothes underneath, provided no one forced me to take off the cape. I needed this outfit only to gain entry and pass through most of the house. I was sure it would only hinder me if I found Rafael and the others and we had to escape the house.

I folded my clothes as small as I could and stuck them inside my muff. My boots presented a problem at first, but one I quickly solved. The cape had vanity strings inside to help it stay on a hanger. I ripped them off and tied them together for length, then tied one end to each on my boots. I hung them around my neck like a pair of ice skates, and then checked myself in the reflection of a window. I looked rounder and more busty than usual, but not as though I had anything concealed under my cape.

I stayed in my car in St. James’s driveway, waiting for what I wanted and wishing it wouldn’t take so long. With every breath that I took, every rise and fall of my chest, my nerves grew. They loomed over me, threatening to choke me, to impede my mission.
Please, Lord,
I prayed,
give me courage
. It was my turn to play rescuer, to be the guardian, as Rafael had been so many times for me. Just this one last time, I could be the strong one for someone else, and then I would never allow Rafael out of my sight again.

And then, there it was, the sight I had been waiting for. Another party bus was pulling up in the drive, slogging through the snow, which was falling so thickly now, I could barely see the front door of the house from the edge of the driveway.

The party bus began to unload and I quickly exited the car and walked directly into the throng of drunk people. Nobody gave me a second look. We moved like a wave toward the front door of the house, finally gaining the steps, salt crunching loudly underneath our shoes. I was annoyed with the slow, two-steps-forward-one-step-back progress, but I couldn’t afford to separate myself from the group, not yet.

I was especially glad of them when I saw none other than Damian standing just inside the door of the house, acting as a greeter. I pulled my hood more securely around my face and stayed to the opposite side of the doorway. Once we broke free of the small receiving room and were into the gold and marble entryway with its cathedral ceiling and crystal chandeliers, we were swallowed up by the sea of other guests, and I finally felt a little more secure. Befitting to such a large house, there had to be over two hundred guests. Spotting me would have to be highly unlikely, especially if they weren’t looking in the first place.

And with the sight of Damian, I knew. My worst fears were realized, my terrible suspicions confirmed. Rafael was here, and Damian had taken him. Why else would he be at a Christmas party playing greeter? It made me feel sick inside. Rafael hadn’t allowed the flock to move on without Damian before, why would he now? They were best friends; Damian wouldn’t have been left nor would he stay behind. Best friends, and yet somehow, for some incomprehensible reason, Damian had betrayed Rafael. I couldn’t help but wonder how Rafael was taking it. I understood what Damian had done to a certain level, but I still couldn’t understand the why behind it.

My first task was to locate Eli St. James. He was one of the few who would undoubtedly be able to recognize me; I didn’t want to turn a corner only to be confronted by him. Trying to recall the layout of the house from my brief visit, I passed through a sitting room, and peeked through two of the doors leading from it. One led to a room of dancers and an ear deafening remix of
All I Want for Christmas is You
. The other was full of men smoking cigars. The dining room yielded only more strangers, the impossibly long table transformed into an endless buffet adorned with candles and holly and pine. The whole party was bigger, wilder, with a more out of control feeling than the elegant Thanksgiving dinner I had attended only a month earlier.

It was only when I made my way back out to the entry hall that I finally found him, though it wasn’t due to my sleuthing skills. I had no sooner set foot on the white marble floor than a sudden tinkling of china filled the room. People were clinking their glasses to gather everyone’s attention. I looked around the room, following the upturned faces to the small balcony that overlooked the hall. More people gathered until the room was crowded, and then Eli St. James stepped onto the balcony, arms open wide.

“Welcome, friends, to the Sixteenth Annual Christmas Eve Fundraiser Gala!”

Christmas Eve?
Christmas Eve
? It couldn’t already be Christmas Eve, could it? I pulled my phone free and checked it, because the idea seemed so ludicrous. But there it was, illuminated in plain LED, December 24. It was Christmas Eve. I clenched my hand around the phone, only more determined than ever to get Rafael and the others out of here tonight. I wouldn’t allow them to spend Christmas locked away, even if it was their one-thousandth-and-whatever-Christmas. It was
our
first Christmas together, and Rafael wasn’t going to miss it.

It was now or never. I quietly wound through the crowd, glad for once at how small I was. From his high vantage point, Eli could have easily picked out a tall figure from the crowd. Even so, people weren’t exactly standing stock still, riveted by the speech. The drunk ones wavered to and fro and the sober ones still mingled, murmuring quietly to one another. I reached the door opposite the dining room and slid through.

It was another large sitting room, full of people. I skirted through several more rooms, until I found what I was looking for; a closed door off a small hallway near yet another sitting room. It creaked as I pushed it open, and I tried to ignore the ominous feeling that washed over me.
Just a house,
I reminded myself.
A house can’t hurt you
. But I remembered Rafael’s words about all the demons in my house, and I shivered all the same.

I crept along the hallway, then paused and debated changing into the clothes hidden beneath my cape. I decided against it. If someone stopped me, I could pretend to be a lost, tipsy party-goer. I had never been drunk before, but if my life – and Rafael’s – were on the line, I thought I could manage the part. I stayed in my party clothes, trying to keep my low heels from clacking too loudly against the polished wooden floor. At the end of the hall I was faced with a door and a staircase carpeted in a soft velvet runner.

I grabbed the knob on the door, only to discover it was locked. With a covert look around, I took a hairpin from my head and stuck it into the old fashioned brass lock. It took awhile, but I finally got the door to give. It only revealed a dark office, though the room felt nearly as large as my entire house. I swallowed my disappointment and pulled the door closed, though I had a creepy feeling about the room. If I was crazy, I would have said I could
feel
Rafael’s presence.
No one said it would be easy
, I told myself as I contemplated the stairs before me. I gathered all my courage and began to ascend them.

Guide my feet, Lord,
I prayed, sliding a hand along the cherry wood banister.
Take me to them.

The top of the stairs revealed another long hallway, with more doors. Opening a few of them revealed a fleet of guest bedrooms, and the eerie connection I’d felt with Rafael had faded completely. Midway through this hallway, I found another locked door, and quickly picked the lock on it as well. Locked doors definitely felt like the right direction. I doubted anyone would have hidden kidnapped Fallen behind an open door.

This doorway opened to a much shorter hallway, only two doors on one side and at the end, a flight of stairs that somehow seemed darker and more foreboding than the others. I almost had a heart attack when a big, booming guffaw spilled out from one of the rooms. The doors to both of which, I now noticed, were open.

A guard? A crazy aunt? What or who was Eli St. James hiding up here? I cautiously edged forward, glad this area was carpeted and made me soundless. Both doors led to the same large room, or suite of rooms, to be more accurate. It was similar to an apartment, with a small four-person table and short counter at one end, and a living area closer to the second door that held the traditional couch, coffee table, and a very large television. There was a third door on the inside of the room directly under the stairwell, and I assumed it led to a bedroom.

A very large woman sat on the couch facing away from me, watching
Jeopardy
. I crept past the open doors, nearly jumping out of my skin every time the woman gave her horsey laugh or shouted an early answer to the question, most of which she got wrong. I finally reached the staircase, and had to once again steel myself to go up it. Something was waiting for me at the top. I wasn’t sure what, or if it could possibly be Rafael, but I knew going up those stairs would set things into motion tonight.

I was soundless ascending them, and finally emerged on a landing, first peering through the tall banister railings that lined the edge of the stairs. The sight that greeted me was some sort of attic room that had been fully furnished, with sloping ceilings and wooden floors covered by ugly old-fashioned carpet and rugs.

To the left, the ceiling sloped down low, and was some kind of child’s nursery, with a rocking horse and dolls, though there was also an adult-sized desk with an expensive-looking computer, big sketch book, and art supplies. To the right, there was a long wall with doorways, though the doors had all been taken off their hinges and removed. The whole room was oddly dated, with lots of dark wood, maroon coloring, and antique furniture; even the dolls had porcelain heads and dainty, Victorian-style dresses.

Looking inside one of these rooms revealed another odd mix: a Disney Princess shower curtain, a foam cartoon fish toilet seat cover, and kiddie stickers on the mirror. But the toothbrush on the sink was clearly adult sized, and what young child would need acne-blasting face wash? It was as though this suite of rooms had never been adjusted as the occupant grew out of childhood. Frowning from the confusion and creepiness of it all, I turned away from the bathroom and nearly screamed in fear. A girl now stood amid the dolls and teddy bears, staring at me.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked.

She looked sick. Ill with something, and I wondered wildly if Eli St. James was extremely hands-on with his charities. Did he shelter certain patients at times? He certainly had the means, though the fact that he kept them behind locked doors made the possibility seem unlikely.