In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1 (26 page)

Chapter
Thirty-four

When I was fifteen, there was a small dinner party in honor of my father. I wasn’t sure what exactly the party was for, but I remember it vividly. My mother usually kept Emily and I entertained by making up stories about our guests. She would encourage us to join in, spinning elaborate tales. Henri often laughed us off or after a while ignored us. My mother told me I had an amazing ability to distract with my vivid imagination.

During that particular party, we had only two guests. My father’s gatherings usually involved his colleagues, sitting in the parlor till the wee hours, their loud carious laughter filling the house. Several unknowns would sit around with them. Very few made lasting impressions, except that night.

A tall woman with dark skin and dark eyes had been our guest. She was accompanied by a small man with fair skin and flaming red hair, his pale face dotted with freckles. My father had introduced him as Thomas and seemed delighted to have him in our home. Thomas was nice with an Irish accent that made everything he said, humorous.

But, it was the tall woman that had caught my attention. Dahnay, was from Ethiopia, and my mother had said she had come for a special visit. I remember she had not offered her hand, but simply bowed her head slightly in greeting. Her long neck held thin gold necklaces, some with small medallions, others simple charms. Her dress was a dark red with gold trim. Dahnay’s short hair was styled neatly to her head like the old black and white pictures of Hollywood movie stars. Her long forehead sloped elegantly to her large brown eyes. Those were what captured me. They were outlined in pure gold, like her dress, but so intense, I could barely keep her gaze.

Dahnay had seen terrible things in her life. I knew from how fathomless her eyes were, she had seen pain. It was etched in the dark color, framed with gold. They told her story, but I was forced to grab the words from the air, sharing them with my mother and Emily as I went along.

She was a queen from long ago. Her life had been created for her, her marriage arraigned. Dahnay’s new husband had been a hideous man, cruel and beat her often, hurting her in ways no woman should ever have to know. The depths of his cruelty were carved in her skin, hidden from prying eyes. I knew my words to be true, the gold flashes in her eyes told me so.

I continued my story, quietly, telling of how she had been forced into a dark life, trapped in the depravity around her. Until one day, she gathered the strength to break free. She had killed her cruel husband by sawing off his head and putting it on display. Dahnay’s act of defiance made all the woman in shackles in the lands cheer. She continued by freeing their battered bodies and ruled over all of the north east of Africa for hundreds of years.

Dahnay had turned to me and stared across the room, her eyes meeting mine. I knew then that I had told her story. She had smiled at me, letting me know in silence I had breathed life into her past. Emily had loved my story, Henri told me I was ridiculous. My mother had laughed and said that Dahnay was indeed a warrior.

I sit in front of my mother and see that her eyes were cast from the same dark pits as Dahnay. The dark and powerful woman that had sat at my dinner table had been a vampire. The thought is unsettling. How many had I met in my life? How many toothy smiles had I seen and not known the darkness that was in them?

I watch as Abigail talks to Aydin. Claudette, I believe, is sleeping since the sun has yet to set. Lucius sits reading some huge book in the corner. The events of the past two weeks weigh on me. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life here. I certainly can’t imagine spending it with Henri walking the halls.

“Will I ever get to go home?” I ask.

“Do you mean back to the coast?” Abigail asks. This is the first she has talked to me since Henri’s attack. They all act like nothing has happened. Except, I haven’t seen Henri since Aydin scared him last night.

“Yes,” I say.

“This is your home now, Charlotte,” Abigail says. “We will send for your things.”

“I’m not allowed to leave,” I say. I look to Lucius. “You will just come collect me again if I try.”

Lucius’ eyes dart away to Aydin. How can such a sweet face hide such deceit? I glance at Aydin. He has been watching me. “If Lucius doesn’t, then you will.”

“You are safe here,” Aydin says.

“I felt real safe on my wine tour, Aydin.” Sarcasm drips from my words.

His eyes burn into mine, but I look away. Cruel hands squeeze my heart. I can’t believe he is keeping me here. Aydin spent my entire life protecting me, now he is the one making sure I never leave. The air in the room charges and the metallic scent hits me hard.

Aydin’s face changes and twists, Lucius sits upright, his large muscles flex. I break away from staring at Aydin to look at him. Lucius has his eyes on me, his face serious, but I can’t read the expression.

“Charlotte, can I talk to you?” Henri asks from behind me. My stomach leaps into my throat. My hands start to tingle, the sensation spreading up my arms and claws at my face. Before it was car rides or sudden, loud sounds. I swallow around the anxiety. Henri has become a new trigger. The simple sound of his voice has sent me into a panic. I can’t conjure my rage of the night before. I can’t summon the bravery and it’s leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

My eyes automatically shoot to Aydin. He gives me a slight nod. I stand slowly, trying to keep my composure and turn to face Henri. His face is different. His eyes dart away, unable to look at me. He always looks at me. The shame is obvious, it covers him like a shroud. My heart tears in my chest.

“Yes,” I say.

Lucius and Aydin walk slowly from the room. Henri steps back as they pass, his haughty demeanor knocked back a few degrees. Either one could rip him to shreds. Their cruel looks and nasty smiles aren’t needed. He is scared of them, of what he has done.

Abigail stops in front of him. His eyes shoot down to his feet. She runs her hand over his cheek, stopping at his chin. She grips his face and leans in to whisper in his ear. I can’t hear what she says, but the look on his face tells me it more than likely involves threats of severe bodily harm. She backs away and kisses his cheek. The door shuts quietly behind her.

“There is nothing I can say to take back the way I behaved,” he says, “I can’t apologize, it was unacceptable.”

The way he behaved. Like he had just talked badly about me, or simply insulted me. As if his behavior weren’t that of someone who is controlling, possessive and abusive. My rage comes back. He has broken our trust, thrown away years of friendship and love.

“You’re right,” I say, pretending I am calm.

“There is something I would like to show you,” he looks desperate. “It won’t justify my actions, but maybe, I don’t know. Maybe you will understand.”

“You mean there is a reason to hit me and .....” I choke on the words and look away.

“No, I don’t think any of that. Char, please, I just need to show you something.”

Henri opens the door and walks into the hallway. Lance stands guard and his presence gives me courage. He follows Henri and me toward the back of the chateau. Toward the narrow door leading to the back servants stairwell and the lower levels.

Once we pass through the sterile hallway and stand in Henri’s office, he tries to shut the door but Lance braces his arm against it, his blue eyes threatening, in the doorway.

“I discovered something after Emily died,” Henri says, backing away from Lance. At his computer, he punches buttons and a screen pops up on the large monitor above the white counter. A bunch of lines jump out at me, different colors and numbers.

“What is this?”

“Remember I told you I had discovered a gene, a possible cure for many different diseases?” Henri asks.

I nod.

He points to the screen and a series of different colored worm looking things. “See this? This is your DNA.”

“What? How did you get this?”

“After the accident, Aydin’s blood was healing you so rapidly, it was astounding,” he says, looking at the screen. “Stephan and I couldn’t figure out why. The repercussions of what he had done had yet to show itself. Their blood is very powerful, too powerful for humans.”

“So it really was Aydin’s blood that healed me?” I swallow around the bile rising in my throat. Abigail had told me this when she revealed about Aydin and the night Emily died, but the reality has yet to set in.

“Yes. He took a big risk. They do not give their blood to humans, even though it can heal us.” Henri turns to look at me. “Every person reacts differently. Some it is like a drug, the affects are a temporary feeling of elation. Others it heals or makes stronger. Some go into a catatonic state, but as soon as it enters the body, it starts to invade. It takes over every cell, trying to change it. Eventuality, the person becomes very ill and dies.”

I want to ask him how he knows this, but am scared of the answer he will give me. “I’m fine, right? Will I get sick?”

“No, you are fine, amazing really,” Henri says. He moves to his computer and hits more keys. Different images pop up, more squiggly worms and colors. Except these look different. There are threads attached the each one, like they have been stitched on. “These are your cells after the accident. As you can see, they have been affected.”

“Affected how?”

“When Aydin’s blood entered your body, it went straight for the one gene it recognized.”

“What do you mean?”

“Scientists can not figure out why a cell splits and creates a twin. We know why fraternal twins are born, there is a gene for this that gets carried on. But, we have yet to discover if there is a particular hereditary gene for identical twins.” He pauses to make sure I’m following what he is saying. “Until now.”

“You're telling me, this gene you discovered, is, in fact, the gene that makes identical twins?”

“Yes.” He looks back to the screen and points to it. “Vampires are from one of the original Twins in the creations stories. Aydin’s blood, vampire blood, found its original source, the gene that you carry.”

“I don’t understand how this has anything to do with medicine and gene therapy.” I’m so confused, I’ve forgotten I am angry.

“Think of their blood like a living organism, looking for a host. Instead of seeing foreign, sick, or damaged cells, Aydin’s blood saw something it knew. It copied some areas of your DNA and replaced others. It’s astounding really. Maybe that is why you healed so quickly. Why instead of reacting badly, it helped you. Maybe even still does. Because of how it invaded, we can now see how their blood can be used for medicinal purposes. We can turn it into a therapy for any type of mutation. Maybe even over time, eradicate them all together.”

“All this, because I carry an old twin gene?” I look back to the images on the screen. “What are all these strange thread like things?”

“It is extra DNA,” he says. Henri flips through more images, but in different colors, all threaded with strange red strings. “Aydin’s blood welded itself to different cells in your body. It’s completely changed the way your body works.”

I stare at the screen. His words refuse to sink in, I won’t let them. “What does this mean?”

“It means Char, every single cell in your body has been affected. All the way down to the ones in your brain. The parts that make decisions and make you feel emotions.” Henri looks deflated. I am beginning to understand. “When I saw this, I lost it. It’s no wonder you are attracted to him. You can’t help it.”

He is apart of me. He has invaded my entire body, all the way to my core. My own personal code has been rewritten. Aydin has taken over my thoughts and my desires. Is that why I could feel his presence? No. I have known him before, maybe it is just more pronounced. I can barely be near him without feeling every raw emotion he feels.

“See, Char, it’s not real,” Henri says, softly. “I’m not saying that this excuses what I did. I’m trying to show you that, I thought I was going to lose you. Again. I can’t lose you, Char.”

There is this small part of me that can feel his anguish. I have the urge to rub my thumb over the crease around his mouth. Smooth out the sorrow, and lines at his eyes, easing his pain. But, I don’t. I can’t. The damage has been done. I let his confession fall to the floor where it shatters, piercing us both. The shards a spectrum of colors. Love, promises, memories, lay scattered at our feet.

“You lost me a long time ago, Henri.”

“Char,” he says my name, a plead.

“Does Aydin know this?” I ask, ignoring the tightening in my chest. I glance at Lance briefly, before returning my eyes to Henri.

“No.”

“Make sure he never finds out,” I say and walk from the room.

Chapter
Thirty-five

The idea formed itself in my mind. It is a pretty good one. Simple, just like the best-laid plans always are. Too many complications leave room for errors. Too many ways to get caught. My plan for escape is fool proof. Except for one thing. It will never work.

I’m not dealing with usual, day to day people. Nothing in my life is normal. I’m not even dealing with things that walk in the light of the day. The chateau has become my prison and is monitored day and night by vampires. That throws a wrench in my plans. A big one. I can run, in the daylight, to the town, but then Aydin will send one his suited henchmen to retrieve me. He is bound to me. We are connected.

So, instead of running pleading for help, wild and hysterical which is exactly what I feel, I am doing what every southern-bred woman does in times of duress. I am day-drinking. No wine for me, I have moved on to the hard stuff.

It is the middle of the day. A bottle of lord-only-knows how old scotch sits next to me. I am in a makeshift bathing suit, consisting of a silky white bra and panties, laying by the pool, a small glass of clear liquid in my hand. My fear over the last few days has faded. Henri I know won’t touch me. He crossed a line that even the psycho vampire family I was born into won’t allow. For once, I am grateful for the protection. His futile attempt at an apology fell on deaf ears. I can only hear that Aydin has changed me and Claudette’s warning. I am Henri’s obsession.

I try to sip my drink, but the warmth sits in my belly, churning my insides. More accurately, I am trying to day-drink and failing miserably.

The hot sun feels good on my skin, a thin layer of sweat covers my body. The material of my garments is thin, revealing more than what I would usually be comfortable showing. Considering that my life no longer belongs to me, I don’t care. There is not much left they can take away.

I sip my scotch again and try not to choke on the taste. Aydin is the one that I always see sipping the drink. I need to remember to tell him it is putrid. If I talk to him again. My stomach sinks. He is meant to keep me safe and he has delivered me straight to the mouth of hell. I want to hate him, but I can’t. For whatever reason he cared about Emily and I enough to risk his life. No matter how cruelly he acts, no matter what he has done, I know that is not his real face. He has let me see past it too many times.

Pain tries to needle its way in. I want to feel nothing over the pain they all have caused. I sip more scotch, my head is light and I close my eyes, sipping even more. Eventually, it will stop, and the hurt will fade, replaced by sweet numbness. Soft tingles of alcohol induced nothingness.

“Ashur wants to talk to you.”

I scream, loud, and sit upright, spilling my drink. Lance stands over me and I curse.

“You scared the crap out of me,” I say and place the drink down. As I stand I see Lance has looked away, his eyes focusing on the wall just behind me. Interesting. He is the only one that doesn’t eye me. I walk to the pool and slide in ignoring him. The cool water washes away the sweat and spilled scotch.

“Ms. Duval, Ashur would like to speak with you.” Lance tries a nicer approach. His voice softening, as if that will help.

I continue to ignore him and dunk under the water. When I resurface, Lance is standing by the pool holding my dress. His face is unreadable. He blinks and turns his head away, pressing the small device in his ear, communicating something to someone. Probably that I am difficult. It is a little thing, childish really. The only bit of arsenal I have, being ornery.

I step from the pool, walk to the towel I have laid out, and pour myself another drink. Lance’s large hand grabs my arm and yanks me toward the gate. I would yell, but I’m so shocked I can’t open my mouth. In over two weeks he has not touched me. Barely spoke and suddenly he is manhandling me.

With my drink still in hand and my other arm clasped by Lance, I am not so gently guided to the house. My body is almost completely exposed in the flimsy wet material. Goosebumps spread out, revealing my nipples under my bra. Only a thin layer of lace covers the most important parts on my bottom. Now I feel exposed.

Lance takes me to the back of the chateau, where I know they walk about. When we reach the back, he leads me to the servant stairs up to the third floor. I have never been in this part of the house. All the windows are sealed with thick heavy curtains blocking out the sun. Here, I thought everyone has been running around the lower levels, and they have really been right above me.

My arm aches, the skin twisting as Lance leads me to massive double doors. He pushes them open and escorts me in, practically shoving me to the center of the room. Instead of Ashur, I see Aydin, standing in what looks like a study. He is leaned up against the fireplace, his back to us, looking in the black mouth where the fire should have been.

“Here,” Lance says, his voice mean and out of character. He throws my dress over the back of a small loveseat and without another word, walks out, shutting the door behind him.

“I thought he said Ashur wanted to see me.”

Aydin turns, his mouth opens, his eyes widen and he looks away. My entire body heats, reacting to his expression. A blush moves from my chest up to my cheeks. I refuse to budge. It doesn’t matter that he can see almost entirely my upper half and the lower garments leave little to the imagination. Pride and sheer stupidity keeps me from covering myself. I am going to have the upper-hand in this situation. Even if it means I am practically naked in front of the one person who has seen me grow over almost thirty years.

Aydin looks back, keeping his eyes glued to mine. He has regained his composure and his finger rubs his bottom lip. “I thought you would come if you thought it was Ashur that wanted to speak with you,” he says.

I remain silent. Obviously, I don’t want to talk to anyone.

“No escape plan today?” He sticks his hand in the pocket of his crisp slacks. Today the suit is a charcoal gray, almost black. His eyes are clear and bright, a beautiful contrast.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t think it would work,” I say. “Security around here is tight.”

Aydin gives me a dry look.

“I could get out by going through the kitchen, maybe get as far as the winery this time.” My hand goes to my hip, resisting the urge to cover my breasts. “Maybe one of the workers would help. Doubtful though.”

“No, they wouldn’t help.” Aydin shakes his head. His jaw clenches and he blinks. “There are tunnels that lead directly to the chateau. There are tunnels all over the town too, but they aren’t connected.”

I shrug. It isn’t like it worked last few times I have tried.

“Seems you have decided to feel sorry for yourself instead. Is this the route you are taking?” He points to the glass in my hand, his brows turned down, his mouth sour. “I’m beginning to think you have a drinking problem.”

“Drinking is the least of my problems.”

“So, you are going to spend the rest of your life drunk?”

I look to my glass and bring it to my lips. With tearing eyes, I take a long drink and nod. The liquor burns my throat and I choke on the word, “Yes.”

“Instead of fighting, you are just going to sit back and let everyone take advantage of you?”

“Not much of a choice. The Head of Security is a real ass. Seems another attempt to escape is futile.”

I think he smiles. “That is very unlike you, Charlotte.”

“Since you know me so well.”

“I know you better than you think.”

“You seem to think there is room for improvement,” I spit out.

Aydin takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his hair. “Are you going to spread your legs so Henri can fuck you over as well?”

The glass flies from my hand and shatters on the mantle next to him. He doesn’t even flinch. “Isn’t that the plan? I have to stay here so he can fuck me whenever he wants?” I scream at him. My voice tears through the room like a maniac. “Fuck you, Aydin!”

“Watch that nasty mouth!” He yells. Aydin walks to the love seat and tosses the dress to me. It lands at my feet. He sits on the seat, less than a foot from me and rolls his eyes.

Rolls his eyes
.

My temper flares. I am on him. I lash at his face, his head, his shoulders. I want to tear him apart. He lets me, for a minute. He doesn’t shield his face, only turns his head, closing his eyes before he grabs my wrists. His touch burns and sorrow fills me to my teeth. There is no escaping it. My legs weaken and I crumble in front of him to my knees. Tears start to fall over my cheeks. I look away, but I don’t care. He already knows how hurt I am. I have let it slip and let him in. I can’t keep him out no matter how hard I try. I barely know his thoughts from my own. All because he has twisted my world, saved my life and gave me his blood. I can’t escape him because of it. I hate him for it and myself as well. For my weakness. My desire for him, my anger, and desperation that wants to trust him. Needs to trust him.

Aydin’s grip tightens on my wrists and he shakes me hard. My teeth rattle and I am stunned quiet. The tears stop and I turn to look at him. His eyes are cold, his face hard and unreadable. He forces me up, so I am standing in front of him. My wrists are released and he sits back holding my eyes. My body heats, I can smell my sweat and my fear, giving away my desire and agony.

Long, thin fingers brush over my arm, barely grazing the skin. The kiss of his fingers raises goosebumps over my body. My nipples harden and I close my eyes. My breathes are heavy and shallow. Aydin is daring. He isn’t supposed to touch me. We aren’t supposed to be here, alone. I wonder if anyone even knows where we are. Aydin’s fingers touch the tips of mine, bringing my thoughts back to him.

I have known what I feel isn’t completely my own. It has grown to such a size, when I am near him I can’t tell who it belongs to. I open my eyes to see that he is watching me, his eyes move over my face. Aydin’s hand goes to his mouth, his finger rubs his lip. I want to reach out and grab his thoughts. Force him to show me what he is thinking.

I step closer, but he leans back shaking his head in warning. I freeze. Aydin’s arms spread out behind him, resting on the back of the seat. He won’t let my gaze move from his gray eyes. His lips part and his tongue touches the corner of his mouth. Everything in me leans out, wanting to take it in my teeth. To force him to move his tongue over me so I can feel his cool breath and rough desire.

The bright gray of his eyes cloud and the pupils dilate. Our eyes break as he lets his move down. My skin catches fire as he gazes over my lips, my neck, the fabric over my breasts. They move hungrily, down over the curve of my hip, resting only for a moment, on the thin lace that barely covers the space between my legs.

Aydin takes a deep breath, filling his lungs and releases it in a rush before he looks away.

“Go to your room and get dressed.” His voice is rough and hard, giving him away. His body reveals the truth, it pounds into me and I feel every lick of want. He is every sin, boxed up and hidden in the form of a man. He lies to everyone, himself worst of all. No one can have me. Henri holds no power, he can’t touch me or try to claim me. Aydin already has.