In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1 (28 page)

CHARLOTTE

Chapter Thirty-eight

Claudette leads me down the stairwell to the lower levels. I’m not sure what we are doing. She says she wants to get something from her room. I was right about one part, she does live underground. Though I have yet to see if she has a magic mirror. I now know she doesn’t need potions, it runs in her veins.

We walk down the sterile hallway past Henri’s office. Before we end at the double doors to the security room, she walks through a door that leads us into another passageway. This one isn’t white and tiled. It is darker and has a plush red runner. There are several doors lining the walls. This is where they must sleep during the day. My heart starts to beat harder. The realization of what I’m seeing hits me. I am in their lair.

Once we reach the last door in the hall, she opens it and walks through, or rather glides. Claudette never walks. The room is dim, except for a small lamp that turned on when she flicked the switch on the wall. It is surprisingly big and decorated like Marie Antoinette herself lives here. Pale blues and satin everything. Rich, gold gilded frames and a large heavy four poster bed. The far wall holds a large carved mirror. Not gilded, but magic mirrors can be deceiving.

Claudette digs though a heavy box on her dresser and pulls out a necklace. “This will look perfect with your dress.”

I’m beginning to feel like a giant play doll for her. She helped me get dressed for the Celebration Feast, which I have yet to talk to her about. They way her hands were all over me, leave me weary of being alone with her. We can play at being friends, but not that close.

She guides me to the mirror and pulls my hair to the side. She is standing close, too close and she brings the necklace around my neck. The gold charm is small and strange. It looks like a star, but it has eight points. A large lapis lazuli sits in the center and the metal points are grooved with light lines extending from the center. I’m not sure how it matches my red dress, but I go with it.

Claudette brushes my hair aside and places her hands on my shoulders. Her breasts are at my back, her skin cool. Anxiety needles its way in my stomach, but I swallow it down.

“What do you use when you bathe?” She asks. Her nostrils flare as she smells my skin.

“Sweet almond and sandalwood,” I tell her. Mental note: never come down here with Claudette again. If I make it out, that is.

“It is delicious,” she bites her lip and backs away. “This must be what has him so enchanted by you.”

I turn to look at her confused. “Who?”

“Aydin. I have never seen him like this.”

I turn back to the mirror and smooth down my dress, all nonchalant and horribly obvious. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh please. He is quite taken with you,” she smiles knowingly at me. “As you are with him.”

I put my best ‘I’m clueless to what you mean face’ on. “There is nothing there.” I move to walk from the room.

“Everyone knows Abigail told you,” she says.

I freeze in the doorway, unable to speak.

“Guardians are never allowed to mate, to mark a human, or create offspring. They are made only to protect. If they fail, they are sent to the afterlife.” She comes close, adjusting the fabric around my waist. “Father thought he was too much of an asset to let him die. This is why he allowed Abigail’s punishment. This is why the Elders do not push for his death. He was too powerful a force to lose. Maybe also, because he did manage to save you.”

Claudette glides around adjusting my dress and hair as she continues, I’m not sure how to respond, so I remain silent. “He was mine and my sisters Guardian, before he left to live with our family in Florida.”

“You have a sister?”

“Had,” Claudette says. “She passed a long time ago.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be, her death held meaning,” she smiles small, only one corner of her mouth turning up. “Aydin is easy to fall in love with. I believed I was, when he was my Guardian. He has already shown he will do anything for you, Charlotte. Please stay away from him. You could quite possibly get him killed.”

I don’t want to see this. This compassionate Claudette who loves Aydin, who loves Henri. She is easier to hate when she was outing me on my poor behavior, yet, she never told anyone of catching Aydin and I in the rose garden. She also seems to think that Aydin cares for me. I shouldn’t be this excited about hearing her say so since it may well get him killed.

“Come, Ludari is waiting to meet you in the study,” she says.

“I thought we were doing dinner.”

“He wanted to meet you in private first. He can be a tad intense.”

Great.

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Something is wrong. Claudette left me here, what seems like forever ago. It is getting late, or early. My body is tired, but my thoughts are everywhere. Not a single one will take center long enough for me to concentrate. I am lit within, a fire inspired by terror, energizing me. I know something is off, but I have no idea what is going on.

I stand in the study, the same room Henri told me of our picnic, waiting to meet this Ludari. There is a sick twist in my stomach and I start to pace the room. Ancient vampires don’t want to meet in private unless they have some rather unsavory ideas in mind. At least I assume. Aydin tried to meet with me earlier, but that was disastrous. I have no idea what he wanted to tell me. My damn temper got the better of me.

The study door bursts open and my mother walks in. No, almost runs. When she sees me, she freezes. “Why are you in here?”

I’m not sure if it is the strained look on her face, the wild eyes, or the fact that I’m already on edge that makes me run to her. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me close. I melt into her. Tears try to break free, but she holds me away and makes me look at her.

“Claudette said Ludari wanted to meet me before dinner,” I tell her. Her jaw clenches and I fight the urge to run.

“Is everything alright, my love?” Ashur asks from the doorway.

Abigail backs away and smooths her hands down her dress. She is stressed to the max and it’s obvious. “I am curious as to why Ludari wants to meet Charlotte before dinner, is all,” she says. Her voice is smooth and velvety.

“You know how he is.” Ashur takes my mother’s hand and leads her to the door. “I will be here with Charlotte, my love. Everything will be fine.”

Why Abigail needs reassurance, is beyond me. But, I don’t like it. I take a deep breath and try to relax. Ashur will be here. The same Ashur that forced my mother to come live with him as his mate so Emily and I could live in Florida longer. My stomach drops.

Abigail leaves the room and the door is shut. Silence envelopes us. I look to see Ashur watching me. I have yet to spend much time with him, seeing him up close and alone, I’m glad I haven’t.

Ashur is suddenly in front of me, taking up my entire line of vision. His dark as night eyes seem to move in the dim light. His long black hair falls around his face that is too severe. “When Ludari comes, you do not speak. If he seems like he is saying something, simply smile.” He backs away but only just barely. “You do not move, you stand here and you stay here, until he leaves.”

I have no idea what I’m in for. I nod my head, like I understand, which of course I don’t. Why I am being given instructions, is beyond me.

“I thought you were going to be here.” My voice sounds weak and full of fear. I take some deep breaths. I don’t want them to know how scared they are all making me.

Metal. I am made of metal.

“No,” Ashur says and walks from the room.

I am once again left alone with my racing thoughts. My metal armor keeps slipping, I am terrified. No matter how many times I weld the seams, add solder to my bones, it cracks. My fear is hot and alive, melting it back, exposing me. Norm comes to mind, his nightmare and his warnings. Henri has already tried to eat me alive. I worry this meeting with leave me tied up by the devil and devoured.

The door opens and I freeze. Long fingers snake around my throat and panic threatens to choke me. Ice nails of fear claw at my back tearing into my spine and make my legs heavy.

Steel. I am made of steel. Don’t let him feel your terror.

His body appears in the doorway, his head almost reaching the top of the frame. His skin is pale, not sickly as I imagined, but soft and smooth as marble. A giant, created by hands that came before me, well before modern man unearthed it from its tomb. His hair is red, the deep color of blood. A long beard covers his face, small braids are woven in its thick fire highlights. Long arms and legs are covered in a flowing soft creamy robe, a corded rope tied around his waste.

Ludari walks into the room, a whisper, his feet falling so softly I am left wondering if he touches the floor. I am unable to move, welded to the ground, my metal insides keeping me on my feet. He smiles and I see it.

He is old. So old that no human eyes should ever have to see him. He is something that is meant to be kept in the dark, in the corners of nightmares, too old to be real. His movements are fluid, snakelike. My nose fills with his scent, a deep sour smell. Reptilian. My stomach twists. His eyes capture mine, and I am stuck, held prisoner. They are colorless like water, but flat. His face is angular, similar to Ashur’s, the ancient bone structure of the original people of the middle east. He speaks, his voice rough, like sand pouring over stones. I don’t know his language. Ears haven’t heard it in thousands of years. I am mesmerized. Frozen. Ensnared in his trap.

And I know why he is here.

To claim his territory.

Sweat covers my body, I stink of terror. Suddenly, Henri doesn’t seem so bad. His mean hands would be welcomed. I would rather give myself entirely to Henri, or have him take me if that is what he wants. He can tear at my dress, he can tear at my skin, he can hurt me. I don’t care, just not this. Not this creature in front of me. I would rather die and be sent to hell. I could play in the depths, in the burning fires with Emily. Dance and sing songs of pain and fear. Anything, anything would be better than what Ludari is going to do.

Metal, I am made of steel.

Ludari speaks again, he is asking me something, a long finger points to the dress I wear. His eyes flash, a ripple in the dead water. His face remains even. I have no idea what the hell he means. Courage comes from somewhere and I walk forward, smoothing my hands over my red dress, wiping the sweat from my palms.

“Do you like it?” I ask. My voice doesn’t shake. I don’t know this woman that has taken over my body. She is brave, or stupid.

A smile spreads over his lips, exposing small fangs. They are sharp, mean and catch the light of the lamp. I expected bigger, though I keep that to myself.

Ludari is on me so fast I almost scream. Only demons move faster than the shadows they cast. He holds my wrist close to his mouth and his nostrils flare, smelling my skin. A dry tongue flickers out, touching the flesh, tracing the veins. The end is not split like the snake he is. I swallow my terror, but it sticks, thick in my throat. The evil glint in his eyes as he licks my wrist tells me what is in store.

I sink back into the desk behind me. Ludari follows, his giant body pressing into mine. His thigh separates my legs and he presses himself to me. He is flaccid, I don’t appeal to him. I try to hide my relief, but it is short lived.

Skeletal fingers pull at my dress, pushing the soft fabric up, exposing me. My stomach sinks and bile rises in my throat, choking me. I can’t breath. My hands move, shaking, over the desk behind me and I feel something sharp and cold. I wrap my fingers around it, arching my back, his pelvis presses into mine. I gulp down the sour taste of terror. He can’t feel my horror. He can’t know. I won’t let him.

Ludari moves his fingers up my inner thigh, scrapping roughly at the skin. Thick nails scratch at the flesh with hard snake-like patterns. His hand slips under my panties and rough fingers push into me, deep. I bite my tongue forcing the tears to stay behind my eyes, catching my scream behind my teeth. He brings his hand to his mouth, his tongue flickers out, tasting.

My armor slips. Terror breaks free as the metal structure collapses and he is on me. His body is hard and crushing. My heart beats wildly, the pulse in my throat threatening to explode. One of his hands grabs my hair, jerking my head to the side, exposing my neck. His cold tongue glides over my skin pressing into the pulse. His teeth dig deep and violent, ripping screams from my throat.

My ears fill with the sounds of my flesh tearing. The pain is unlike any other, each pull of his teeth drawing out more pain, more screams. It draws from my belly, ripping through my heart and scorches where his mouth clasps my neck; a thorny dagger. I am screaming, grabbing at his robe.

His body reacts and his excitement grows, he presses it against me threatening, feeding off my terror. A promise that I still have more, terrible things in store. I push hard, away from the desk, my hand holding the thin, long object pulls free, and I stab. The letter opener sinks into his neck, sick gushing sounds, as blood sprays out. His teeth release, and I dig it deeper, twisting. Dark blood spills from him, his hand goes to the blade and he steps back. His eyes stare, unblinking. Cold. Empty.