Guardian's Hope (7 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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Col burst through the gym door into the
kitchen of the Guardian House. Grace, burdened with a huge bowl of
mashed potatoes, scowled at his filthy clothes.

“We’ve been waiting dinner for an hour for
you guys. I’m not doing this anymore.” She looked behind him.
“Where’s Dov?”

“Busy.” He knew it was rude, but it wasn’t
his secret to tell. “Where’s Nico?”

Grace started to speak, but saw the look on
Col’s face and changed her words. “In the parlor. Pacing.”

“Thanks.”

But whether it was for the information or the
two rolls he grabbed from the basket on the island, Grace wasn’t
sure. Something was wrong. Nico, the epitome of cool, calm and
collected, had been pacing the floor and watching the clock for the
past two hours. Now comes Col, torn and filthy, without Dov and
without explanation. She hurried to the dining room to tell
Canaan.

They were headed to the parlor, followed by
Nardo, when they heard Nico roar.

“YOU LEFT HIM IN HER BED?”

They plastered themselves against the wall as
Nico barreled into the hallway, then followed him through to the
kitchen with Col following behind saying, “No. No. It isn’t like
that!”

When she saw where Nico was headed, Grace
called out, “You can’t go out now. It’s almost dawn.”

Nico turned and snarled, his fangs showing
long and sharp, “I’ll make it. Dov may not.” And then he was
gone.

The group turned as one to stare at Col who
took a step back and raised his hands.

“What have you two done now?” Canaan asked
with a threat in his voice that would be hard to ignore.

“I can’t tell. We promised Nico.” Col held
his ground.

“Oh, you’ll tell,” said Canaan, advancing
until he was a foot from Col’s chest, “And you’ll tell us now.”

*****

Nico pushed the Harley to the limits of
safety as rode through the city to Hope’s little house. The sky was
lightening with the faint rose of dawn as he put his shoulder to
the front door. The jamb snapped with a satisfying crack as the
lock gave and the door burst open. He charged up the stairs to the
bedroom where he found Dov sitting comfortably against the
headboard, pillows fluffed at his back. He was bare-chested and
strips of torn sheeting wrapped his torso and padded his shoulder.
A cup of tea in a china cup sat on the nightstand.

Dov grinned. “Hey, Nico.” The gin faded.
“What’s wrong?”

“Where is she?” Nico snarled.

“Downstairs making me something to eat. She
loves me. She called me a gentleman.”

Nico’s jaws clenched and he took a step
toward the bed, but a choked sound from the door had him turning.
Hope stood in the doorway, a kitchen knife raised and ready to
stab. She began to shake, so badly that the hand with the knife,
still raised, began to bang against the door frame. Everything on
the dresser crashed to the floor.

“I-I th-thought they came back,” she
stuttered. I-I thought they’d hurt Dov.”

Her face paled to a ghostly white, the small
band of freckles over her nose standing out in sharp contrast. Her
breath came in short, shallow pants. Her green eyes glittered with
shock.

“It’s all right, Hope. I’ll take the knife,”
Nico said softly. He held out his hand.

“No,” she whispered, “Don’t t-touch me.” She
turned and fled down the stairs.

“Stay here,” Nico ordered Dov and followed.
He found her sitting in the same chair he’d sat her in the first
night they met. She still held the knife.

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, staring
straight ahead.

“Nothing,” Nico whispered.

She continued to stare across the room. “Oh
yes, there is and my father always knew it. He told me I was only
safe among the flock. If I ventured too far away from their
prayerful protection, evil would find me. The devil seeks the
devil’s handmaiden.”

“Hope, it doesn’t work that way. I am
familiar with much that is evil and you are not a part of it.”

She looked at him with guilty eyes. “You
can’t know that. You don’t know what I’ve done. I dishonored my
father when I ran away without his consent or blessing, when I
chose to follow my mother’s calling. I met Lenny and became a
willing purveyor of evil. Not only did I profit from it, I used it
to seek out and invite abominations into my home. I have visited
the devil’s dens of iniquity, imbibed in his brew, invited strange
men into my bedroom, indulged in thoughts of sins of the flesh,
provoked men to attack me and now…” She looked down at the hand
still holding the knife and dropped the blade to the floor as if it
burned. “Thou shalt not kill,” she whispered. Her eyes filled with
tears. “I am the devil’s handmaiden.” She hung her head in
shame.

“You haven’t killed anyone.”

“I would have,” she said softly but with
conviction. “I almost killed you.”

“But you didn’t and there’s nothing sinful in
coming to the defense of an injured man. That’s bravery, not
sin.

She shook her head in denial. “I’ve never
been brave.”

Nico crossed the room to stand in front of
her and used his index finger to lift her chin. When she would have
pulled away, he gripped it with thumb and forefinger forcing her to
look at him.

“You’ve lived a sheltered life,” he said
quietly, but firmly. “You’re naïve and inexperienced in the ways of
the world. Not evil. I tell you again, I have seen evil, up close,
both in myself and in others. I recognize its stench. There is none
in you. You are not evil. The devil, as you call it, has no hold on
you.”

“Then why is all this happening to me?” she
pleaded.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“I don’t know, but I vow to you on what little honor I have left,
that I will find out.”

She said nothing, but there was belief in her
eyes.

Still holding her hand, he stepped back.
“Now, there’s nothing we can do until nightfall. You are exhausted
and need sleep which you will get in your own bed.” He half smiled
when her eyes widened. “Dov can use the couch. No argument now.
He’s young and healthy and not nearly as injured as he would have
you believe. He’ll be fine. I’ll keep watch. Tonight, we’ll move
your things to our home. There’s a woman there, Grace, and another,
Manon, across the way. They’ll be a comfort to you and can teach
you things you need to know. They’re like you, Hope. Something
special.”

“I can stay here. I don’t want to
impose.”

“Someone is looking for you and until I find
out who it is, you can’t stay here. Besides,” again the half smile,
“I’ve broken your door. Grace will be more than happy to have
someone to talk to other than the smelly beasts, which is how she
refers to us, although to be fair, I think she considers it a term
of endearment. I promise you’ll like her, everyone does.”Hope
readied herself for bed, all too aware of the men downstairs. No.
Man downstairs. She refused to add lying to her list of faults. Dov
was a pleasant young man who, she suspected, was much as he
appeared; open, friendly, incautious and non-threatening. A firm
hand and a stern voice would keep him in his place. Nico, however,
was different. She thought it would take a great deal more than a
firm hand to keep him from his intended course. But what was his
intended course?

She understood her own silly, schoolgirl
attraction to him. He was, after all, the first decent man to treat
her as anything other than Preacher Parson’s daughter and she knew,
in her heart, that true love and commitment were a far cry from a
foolish crush. She had no illusions that her feelings might be
returned. A man like Nico would never be attracted to an oversized
frump like her. So what then was the motive behind sending the
twins to watch over her? And why the seriousness of his vow to
discover the source of the threat? She would think about it later,
after she’d had some sleep.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

“Oh Gracie, we’re home,” Dov called in a
sing-song voice.

“Good lord, Dov. What have you done to that
jacket?”

“You see how she is,” Dov said over his
shoulder. “She cares more about the jacket than she does about
me.”

“You’ll heal. The jacket costs money.”

“Of which we have plenty,” said a deeper,
stronger voice. “Now get out of the way and let them through. You
can yell at him later.”

Hope heard a scuffle and a squeal as she
followed Dov up from the garage, through a pantry and into the
largest kitchen she’d ever seen. A broad chested giant held a much
smaller woman close to his chest with her feet off the ground and
flailing in front of her.

“Put me down, you big oaf,” the woman
demanded.

“Ask nicely and give us a kiss.”

“Please put me down, you big oaf,” she said
and bussed him on the lips. When he put her down, she shook her
finger at him. “You’ll pay for that.”

“I hope so,” he said and they both
laughed.

Hope reddened at the public display of
affection and what it implied.

“Hey you guys, behave. You’ve embarrassed
Hope,” said Dov which caused Hope to redden further. He stepped to
the side so she could move forward.

“You’re right, we’re being rude. Hope,
welcome to our home. I’m Grace and the big guy is Canaan.”

Grace was an attractive young woman who
looked to be around Hope’s age. She stood about five feet six and
had long, curling dark hair with a distinctive white streak at her
temple. Hope’s father would have called her attitude saucy, an
unflattering term, but Hope was reassured by her openness and
familiarity. When Grace held out her hand, Hope took it
willingly.

“Your kindness is most welcome,” Hope said
quietly.

She felt an immediate warmth like meeting a
friend after a long absence. It was as if she knew this woman,
though she was sure they’d never met previously. She’d never felt
such a thing before and she smiled tentatively at the welcome. She
started when Nico spoke from behind her.

“Dov has made the proper introductions I
see.”

Dov cringed. “Not really.”

“Then allow me. Hope, may I present Lord
Canaan, Liege Lord of this House of Guardians and his lady, Grace.
My lord, my lady, this is Hope, a woman who needs our help.”

Canaan scowled and Grace giggled when she
said to Hope, “Do you feel like you should curtsy? Don’t.” She
looked up at Canaan, “Oh stop it. It had to be said. It’s what we
are. Now that it’s said, we can ignore it.” She turned back to
Hope. “I’ll explain it all later. Let me take your coat. Breakfast
is almost ready. They told you about our schedule, didn’t they?”
and at Hope’s confused look, “They’re night creatures so majority
rules. We eat breakfast around six in the evening and supper at
four or five in the morning. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. No
one’s going to scream rise and shine. At least not the first day
you’re here.”

Everyone laughed so Hope assumed Grace was
joking. She was ushered into a formal dining room, but the behavior
was anything but. After being introduced to Nardo, a kind of chaos
ensued. Platters filled with immense quantities of food were passed
back and forth with a great deal of laughter and name calling. It
all stopped as quickly as it began and Hope found herself with a
plateful of food before her and a tableful of men staring at
her.

Grace leaned over and said confidentially,
“They’re trying to be polite and wait for us to begin. You’d better
pick up your fork before they start yowling with hunger.”

She no sooner picked up her fork than the
chatter and laughter began again, this time interspersed with
chewing and drinking. She started on her scrambled eggs.

“So, Hope,” Canaan spoke from the head of the
table. “Been in the city long,” and at the shake of her head,
“Where you from?”

“A very small town in Arkansas,” she answered
quietly, uncomfortable with being the center of attention. “My
father is the preacher of the church there.”

“Well, that explains a lot. Ow! Would you
quit kicking me?” Dov glared at his twin.

“Why? You kicked me the other night.”

“That’s ‘cause you were too stupid to figure
out…”

“Boys!”

“Sorry, Gracie,” they said together. After a
few pokes at each other with elbows, they went back to eating.

Hope began to relax. This wasn’t much
different than sharing a meal with one of the families from her
father’s church. Mothers always expected the best behavior when the
preacher came to dinner, but it didn’t always work out that
way.

“Hope’s a nice name.” It was the one called
Nardo wearing a faded t-shirt and a braid that fell halfway down
his back. “You got another one?”

“Yes,” she said with the beginnings of a
smile. “It’s Parsons. Hope Parsons.”

The friendly smile left Nardo’s face and he
looked to Canaan who gave a serious nod in response to the silent
question.

“You know a Leonard Abramowitz?”

“Y-Yes,” she answered nervously. “Lenny was
my friend. He took me in when I had nowhere to go. He… he
died.”

Canaan nodded again at Nardo and the younger
man left the room.

“What’s this about? I didn’t bring her here
for an inquisition.” Nico started to rise.

Canaan held out his hand. “Sit, Nico. Hold
your questions until Nardo gets back.”

Nico’s face turned hard. He had no choice but
to obey his Liege Lord, but he didn’t have to like it. Anger blazed
from his eyes and they seemed to turn golden in the light reflected
off the crystals of the chandelier.

Nardo was back in an instant. He handed
something to Canaan who passed it to Nico. The twins’ eyes widened
when they saw it and turned to Hope. Nico held it out to her. There
was pain and sympathy in his eyes. Why?

It was her athame, the one that her mother
had left her. They obviously knew what it was and what it was used
for. And didn’t approve. Why would their reaction to witchcraft be
any different than her father’s? Hurriedly, she rose to her feet
and began to back away with the athame clutched tightly to her
breast.

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