Guardian's Hope (14 page)

They sipped their drinks and sat in
companionable silence for a few minutes and then Hope blurted
out,

“Have you ever had doubts?”

“Doubts?”

It came out all in a rush. “Yes. About who
you are and what you’re meant to do. Have you ever had the rug
pulled out from under you where everything you thought you knew
might be a lie and everything you’ve been led to believe by people
you’re supposed to trust might not be true at all? Have you ever
felt like there was something inside of you that you never knew was
there and it’s begging to come out, but if you let it out, you can
never put it back and what if that something gets out and you can’t
control it and it turns into something bad?”

Her eyes widened and her voice rose in pitch
with each sentence she spoke. She was frightened of the power
growing inside of her. Broadbent was wrong. She wasn’t like the
Paenitentian sons born with the Guardian’s teardrop on their chest.
They could choose to become Guardians of the Race or deny their
birthright. Her only choice was to accept what she was born to be
or succumb to an unacceptable fate. He’d heard Grace and Manon
speak of it. Hope couldn’t afford to sit on the fence. She might
not have time.

Nico was on the seat beside her. She hadn’t
seen him move. He took the glass from her hand and put both her
hands in his.

“Have you ever known that kind of doubt?” she
asked again. She sounded desperate. Her voice shook and her body
trembled.

“Yes,” he answered and was surprised by his
own honesty.

“What did you do?” Her eyes searched his. She
was pleading for an answer.

And he could only speak the truth. “I worked
through some of them and learned to live with the rest.” Though
that wasn’t the whole truth. He couldn’t tell her that living with
the rest controlled his life.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do
that.”

He released her hands and gripped her
shoulders when what he wanted was to gather her into his arms.
“You’re strong enough, Hope. You’re stronger than you know.
Whatever it is inside you; let it out. You’re strong enough to
control it and Manon will show you how. Let it out or it’ll eat you
up from the inside. Let it out. Deal with it. And then we’ll look
at the rest.”

Hope’s breathing slowed and she leaned
forward until her forehead rested on his chest, over his heart
where the skull and tears of his calling rested among the lilies.
He felt her warmth through the fabric of his robe and for a moment
he was afraid to breathe. That warmth and trust touched him in ways
he’d never been touched before and with it came another feeling
that he hadn’t felt since he was a fledgling in the time before the
skull and tears had marked him. Fear. A small trickle of it
shimmied up his spine and he was so startled by it, his immediate
instinct was to push Hope and it away, but he couldn’t. She needed
him. A fierce protectiveness overwhelmed him. He wanted to tell her
that he would fight her battles for her, slay her demons and put
her worries to rest, but he couldn’t do that either. Her conflict
raged in her mind and her heart. She would have to do battle alone.
All he could do was give her his faith in a strength she had yet to
believe in.

Hope felt the pulse of Nico’s heart beneath
her forehead. Stable and constant, its rhythm flowed through her in
a steady stream until it reached her center and her own heart
matched it beat for beat. He didn’t tell her that her fears were
nonsense. He didn’t treat her as if she were a fool even if she’d
acted like one. He advised, but didn’t insist on her compliance. He
simply held himself firmly before her, his chest sturdy and solid;
a wall of steel that offered shelter and support to a woman
buffeted by self-doubt. She wanted to stay here, in the shelter of
his strength, forever, safely following wherever he would lead. She
was ashamed of the small part of herself that still wanted to be
told what to do. It was as if that want was a betrayal of Nico’s
faith in her. She wanted him to be proud of her and he wasn’t the
kind of man who would see a weak and unsettled woman as a source of
pride. She didn’t need his protection. His belief in her would be
enough. She had to fight her personal demons alone. She forced
herself upright and away from the comfort of his beating heart.

“Thank you for listening. I’m afraid I’ve
taken too much of your time.”

“We’re a long lived race. Time’s something we
have plenty of.” He could hear someone stirring in the bedrooms
above. “You’d better hurry back to your room. I don’t want you to
be caught here in your nightgown.”

“Broadbent isn’t the only good man around
here,” she said and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek before
running from the room.

Nico added a log to the fire and returned to
his chair. He was surprised to see the cat, Buffy, curled in the
chair on the other side of the fire.

“She thinks I’m a good man,” he told the cat.
Buffy yawned as if bored and went back to sleep.

“If only it were true,” he whispered to the
flames.

Chapter 13

Beauty sat in her usual place on the floor in
the corner of Tyn’s office. She kept her head down, hair flopping
forward to hide her face. Through the curtain of her overgrown
bangs she watched the beast walking back and forth across the worn
carpet. At first, she’d been frightened by this grisly form. It’s
rough and scaly skin rippling over its too long arms and
lizzardlike legs made her skin crawl. She couldn’t look at the
beady eyes and slavering jaws without bile rising to her throat.
Now, it was just another part of the hell her life had become. She
was grateful that it was in a good mood.

“Things are looking up, Beauty,” Tyn crowed,
though the elongated jaw and long teeth made it sound like an alien
tongue. “The new house is already doing more business than I
anticipated. We’ll be rolling in cash by the end of the month.”

Another house, two blocks over, had come into
his possession in much the same way as the first. The neighbors
thought he was a nephew and “Uncle Charlie” had been sent off to a
rest home. “Alzheimer’s, poor man.” In truth, Uncle Charlie was on
the same long voyage as the old lady in the backyard.

“That Smith is worth his weight in gold. Look
how fast he found that old whore.” He gurgled with delight. “I want
to retire from the more active end of the business and apply my
knowledge and acumen to the more lucrative organizational end,” he
mimicked. “That’s just how she put it. The more lucrative
organizational end my ass. She’s tired of working on her back and
wants to be a Madam. Fine by me. She’s just what I need. And she’s
smart enough to know what’ll happen if she ever decides she can
screw me over. Yeah, she’s looking forward to a long and profitable
partnership and that sounds good to me. You listening to me?”

Beauty kept her head down and didn’t respond.
It was hard not to answer. Not as hard as defying a direct order,
but the compulsion to obey was still there. Tyn stalked toward
her.

“You better answer me. Answer.”

“Yes… Master.”

“Don’t like that word, do you? Get used to
it. Stupid bitch. And here I had something I thought would make you
happy. Want to know what it is?”

This time she didn’t try to fight against the
words. “Yes, Master.”

His lips drew back over his teeth in what
passed for a grin. “The new house won’t be staffed with minions.
The old broad’s got girls fresh from the streets who’re looking for
a safe place to ply their trade. See, I’m doing a good deed here.
Giving them a nice place to work. We get a cut, the old broad gets
a cut and the whores split what’s left.”

Somewhere through the haze that covered her
mind, Beauty felt a tinge of relief. The girls were sick and dying.
No one else seemed to care.

“Now, I’ll bet you’re asking, ‘What’s going
to happen to my poor minionettes?’ You like that name, huh? I think
it’s catchy.” He stroked his chest and preened at his cleverness.
“Well, since the minionettes are so agreeable – I only have to give
them an order, after all – to serving the more peculiar and
slightly painful perversions of humans, my new Madam is referring
any clients with special needs to us. Her girls are happy –
apparently even hookers can be squeamish – and mine have no say.
You see how well this is going to work. It’s a win-win all the way
around. A little word of mouth and business will be booming.”

A tear trickled out of the corner of her eye
and down to the end of her nose. It wasn’t worth wiping away. She
gathered all her strength.

“Can I go now?”

He changed into human form and crooked his
finger. “Come here,” he ordered.

Beauty rose slowly to her feet, used to the
routine, and crossed the room to stand in front of him.

“Look at me. You know I hate that poor me
attitude.”

She lifted her head and stared at him. He ran
his fingers over the cheek he’d slashed with his claws. “You need
to put something on that. It isn’t healing properly. And take a
shower, wash your hair. Eat something. You’re spending too much
time taking care of the minionettes. You need to take care of
yourself. You need to take care of me. Don’t think you can die on
me. I won’t allow it. Now give us a kiss.”

She raised her chin a little more and
slightly parted her lips. His mouth crushed against hers and his
tongue began to delve into the depths of her mouth. His hand
squeezed her breast painfully and she moaned. It was what he
wanted. For her, it was just another part of hell. She wasn’t even
relieved when he pushed her away.

“Mr. Smith should be here shortly. Send him
up.”

Tyn watched as she slowly closed the door
behind her. He almost called her back, to question her again, but
changed his mind. He didn’t want to ruin his good mood.

Beauty still refused to cooperate in
identifying the woman with her picture. He now knew the woman he
was looking for was Hope Parsons, yet every time he demanded that
Beauty tell him who the woman was, her response was the same.

“Me.”

He’d beaten her, starved her and finally
refused her access to the minionettes which seemed more painful
than any physical punishment, yet her answer never changed.

“Me.”

He’d never known Beauty’s human name. He
didn’t need to. She should have had a number like the others, but
as soon as he’d tasted her, he knew she was special and now she was
his Beauty. He had a feeling in his gut that the other Hope was
special, too. He’d find out soon enough.

Mr. Smith was probably right. He thought
Beauty was telling the truth and the other woman was using Beauty’s
real name. Identity theft he called it. It was the only thing that
made sense.

As soon as the knock sounded and Smith
entered, Tyn demanded, “Have you found her?”

“Not yet. Nobody’s seen hide nor hair of her
since the losers botched the grab. Finally got the address and I
got my guys watching day and night. Ain’t seen nothing. You know,
this could run into a lot of money keeping six, eight guys watching
round the clock.” Smith was calculating how much he should ask for
and how much he could skim off the top. He took a seat without
being invited and Tyn frowned.

“I don’t care how much it costs. Do it and
make sure they understand their orders. They’re not to touch her or
approach her in any way? I don’t want her scared off again.”

“Yeah. I made sure the message was loud and
clear. The only one allowed to touch her is me.” He’d helped
dispose of the body of the last guy who crossed Tyn Damon. He
wasn’t about to make the same mistake.

Finding Hope Parsons, or whatever her name
was, had become an obsession for this guy and Smith couldn’t figure
out why. He should have been satisfied that the woman was gone. He
should be happy the stupid bitch wasn’t still pestering bartenders
all over town. But he wasn’t. He acted like she was his property
and he wanted her back. Smith mentally shrugged. Wasn’t his
business. The guy paid well and Smith had his pick of the litter
when it came to the sorry creatures Damon kept upstairs, except for
Beauty. Nobody touched her except the big man himself. She’d been
looking a little worse for wear lately and Smith wondered what went
on behind closed doors with those two. The thought made him
horny.

“I see you got the new place up and running.
Need any muscle on the doors? Never know when a customer might give
you trouble.” Smith had been shown the door a few times
himself.

“No, what I’m paying you to keep the
authorities away is all the security I need from you,” Tyn said
folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve made other arrangements
for inside. You take care of what I’m paying you for and leave the
rest to me.”

He’d managed to pick up a few fellow demons
here and there to serve as protection for his expanding business.
They were happy to be shown how to get along in this world and
resist the call of their masters in the otherworld. They were as
devoted to him as lower level demons could be, which meant as long
as they feared him, they would remain loyal. Smith was useful, but
he was still human.

“Fine by me, Mr. Damon. I was just making a
friendly inquiry.” Smith rose and moved toward the door. “I got to
get back to work serving beer to the fangers. I’ll keep my ears and
eyes open and let you know if my boys come up with anything.”

“You do that.” Tyn gritted his teeth as the
door closed behind Smith. Once he was sure Smith was gone, he
slammed his fist into the desk. He wanted answers, but giving into
his fury wouldn’t help. He needed to be smart and patient. It was
getting harder all the time.

Chapter 14

Hope stared open mouthed at the gash running
the length of Broadbent’s arm. While the wound was deep and painful
looking, it wasn’t the wound that shocked her. She’d seen enough
farm injuries and their accompanying gore to be able to hold up
under the worst. No, it wasn’t the blood. It was the awful smelling
smoke that rose from the wound after Grace poured what appeared to
be plain water along its length.