Guardian's Hope (5 page)

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed as he drew back
his fist to pound her into silence.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Shut the fuck up.” Her
eyes glazed with a yellowish film and she stared at him with her
mouth tightly shut.

She was the first, three others quickly
followed. One of those died later at her weekly feeding when he’d
dined too well. He was careful now to take only half of what they
had to offer. They were obedient to his every command and in the
dimly lit rooms; the customers never notice their vacant yellow
eyes.

Beauty was to have been the replacement for
number four. He’d watched her for days, followed her from bar to
bar and waited for his chance. She was the most beautiful creature
he’d ever seen and he was sure she’d make a tasty treat.

As it turned out, she was so much more. Like
the others, she was under his thrall, completely obedient to his
commands, yet unlike the others, she could hold a minimal
conversation, answer questions when asked and care for herself in
ways the others couldn’t. It was Beauty who saw that the others
were bathed and fed. Beauty, who combed their hair and made them
brush their teeth. More than this, Beauty answered a need in him he
hadn’t realized was there. He missed being a demon; missed the
scaly skin sliding over rippling muscles, his face long and
terrifying, his claws extended and curled. Most humans couldn’t
tolerate his demon form. He knew this because he showed himself in
true form just before he killed them and the reaction was never
good. Beauty, however, could see him as he truly was both in human
and demon form and she didn’t flinch from either. Beauty was
something special and he kept her to himself.

Not knowing who was looking for her was
beginning to annoy him. How hard could it be to steal the records
that matched the tag from the purse? Patience. The fools would be
better prepared the next time they broke into the office. He’d make
sure they were better prepared to face the deadly consequences if
they failed.

*****

They were several blocks away from Hope’s
house when Nico suddenly pulled the car to the curb and readjusted
the rearview mirror.

“That foolish woman,” he said with a touch of
anger in his voice. “Why would she put herself at risk, walking
alone in the dark?”

Dov looked back through the rear window. “If
you’re talking about that chick on the other side of the street, I
don’t think you have to worry. She looks big enough to take care of
herself.” His next comment was a strangled choke as Nico gripped
and twisted the neck of his shirt.

“Watch how you speak of her.” He released the
shirt.

“Damn, Nico.” Dov straightened his shirt and
used his hands to smooth out the wrinkles. “No disrespect. I just
meant she’s built like a brick shithouse,” and when Nico snarled,
“Help me out here, Col.”

Col blew out a long suffering sigh and said
to Nico. “He means she’s tall and doesn’t look like an easy
victim,” and to Dov, “You can’t tell what she’s built like under
that ugly old coat.”

Nico watched silently as Hope walked past the
darkened windows of the car. “She has no one to protect her,” he
said softly, more to himself than the twins.

“Who is she, Nico?” Dov asked with quiet
concern.

“She’s a woman I met the other night at
Bloodsuckers when I was out looking for you.”

“Bloodsuckers! Holy Hoochie Mama.” Dov
wiggled his eyebrows and grinned. “She sure doesn’t look like
Bloodsuckers material. Course, like Col said, can’t tell what she
looks like under that coat. So she’s hot, huh?”

“Her name is Hope and she is a respectable
young woman. I found her in a difficult situation at Bloodsuckers,
helped her out and saw her home. She remembers nothing. I was
merely concerned about the loss of her handbag and shoe. It’s
nothing.”

“Yeah, right. She’s nobody important.” Dov
emphasized his point with an elbow to his brother’s ribs. “I may
not be the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but I’m throwing
enough wattage to see she’s not a ‘nothing’ to you.”

“I only wished to return her shoe. While it
means nothing to me, it may mean a great deal to her.”

“Sure. Her life’s gonna end ‘cause she lost a
cheap shoe. Don’t think so.”

“You are spoiled, Dov ad Willem. You’ve grown
up with money and privilege. You’ve no idea what a difference a
cheap pair of shoes can make.”

“Oh goody, a lecture on poverty from a guy
who just spent $120,000 on a forty year old car. Come on, Nico, you
spend more on one shirt than all of ours put together.”

Nico pulled away from the curb and took the
next turn. “That’s because I don’t buy them in packages of a dozen
at the local big box store. I like fine things and I don’t suppose
you’ll turn down the keys to that car should I offer them. Your
mission has changed, gentleman. See that she’s safe.”

He pointed to the figure trudging along two
blocks ahead.

Chapter 5

“Feeling a little uncomfortable here, bro.”
Col looked around the dimly lit bar. The small round tables,
surrounded by comfortable leather chairs, were topped with crisp
white cloths. Candles glowed in white frosted globes at the center
of each. Electric sconces, spaced periodically along the walls,
flickered their artificial candlelight against the polished wood
panel walls. This was an upper echelon, after business hours,
watering hole. Its patrons weren’t young up and comers. These
people had already made it.

“Everyone’s looking at us,” Dov grumbled.

“No duh, we’re two carp in a koi pond.”

The twins were dressed, as they usually were,
in light blue jeans, white t-shirts and leather jackets. Every guy
in the place wore an expensive suit with the silk tie tucked up
tight into the collar of a starched, custom made shirt.

“Nico should have taken this one on himself.
He’d fit right in.”

“Not completely. His hair’s too long and
there’s no grey at the temples.”

A woman in a steel grey business suit walked
by and smiled indulgently. Col thought she might reach out and pat
them on their heads. Her outfit matched the tone of every other
woman in the place; dark suit or dress ending at the knee or
slightly below, dark shoes with comfortable but flattering heels,
tasteful jewelry, no cleavage. Both twins were disappointed.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Dov complained as he
returned another amused and indulgent smile, “I don’t mind playing
secret agent for Nico, but I wouldn’t mind a little scenery that
didn’t remind me of Mom.”

“She doesn’t fit any better than we do.” Col
nodded toward the bar where Hope sat, hunched over, nursing a cup
of coffee. She wore a long, well-worn denim skirt topped with a
navy cardigan big enough to fit one of the twins. Not much of her
turtle neck was showing, but he’d take odds that it was as big as
the cardigan.

“Why do you think she dresses like that?”

“How would I know? Maybe she chooses like we
do, whatever’s in the clean pile. Maybe she’s lumpy in places she
shouldn’t be. Don’t know, don’t care. What I’d like to know is why
Nico’s so interested?” Dov flagged a waitress and ordered another
round. “She doesn’t look like his type.”

“Type? How would you know what type is his?
You ever seen him with a woman?”

“Well no, he doesn’t exactly hang out at the
same places we do, does he? But look at him. Everything he owns is
sleek and dark; his car, his motorcycle, his clothes. The guy’s
smooth. He’s gonna look for a smooth woman. Kinda like that
Advisor, Callista, the one that was here last November.”

“How can you say that? She was a bitch,”
Col’s lip curled derisively, “Nico wouldn’t want someone like
her.”

“I meant her looks, not her personality. You
got to admit she’s a fine looking woman when her mouth is shut.”
Dov indicated Hope with his chin. She’d stopped another couple as
they passed her stool, asked her question and held up a card.
“She’s showing that picture to everyone who walks by. We should go
find out who it is, what she wants.”

“No, we shouldn’t. Nico said sit tight and
watch. Don’t go screwing up our night with the ‘vette by sticking
your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

The after work wind-down was over. As if
someone set off a silent alarm, patrons began to check their PDAs,
say their farewells and leave in twos and threes. In ten minutes
the place was empty.

Hope didn’t move except to shift her seat far
enough to keep one eye on the door and one on the blonde twins in
the corner. She felt like the two were watching her, but every time
she checked the mirror over the bar, they were talking to each
other or looking elsewhere in the room. There was nothing
threatening about them and if it weren’t for the beer, they might
have been mistaken for a couple of the strong, healthy farm boys
that sat in the last pew of her father’s church. She had an odd
feeling about them, as if she knew them and could trust them. She
smiled at her foolishness. It must be their fresh faced good looks
because she’d never seen them before tonight or maybe it was
because they looked as out of place as she did.

She’d come to the city with three hundred
dollars, a few words on a scrap of mostly burned paper and as many
of her belongings as fit in a picnic basket. If any of her father’s
congregation saw her walking along with her basket, they’d think
she was on a goodwill mission, bringing a casserole or pie to a
member of the church family. It was one of the few things she was
allowed to do outside of school hours that brought her any
pleasure, so she did it often.

Arriving at the gas station that served as a
bus depot, she’d transferred her belongings to a cloth bag, bought
her ticket and boarded the bus fifteen minutes later. It was the
longest fifteen minutes of her life.

She’d chosen the day because her father had
left earlier that morning and would be gone for several days on
church business, but while she sat on the wooden bench outside the
station, she’d been sure he’d come back early and drag her home.
But he hadn’t come back early and the bus was on time and she’d
been on her own for the first time in her twenty-seven years.

Hope and the twins were the only witnesses to
the transformation of the bar. The staff sprang into action with
practiced efficiency. White tablecloths changed to shiny black,
sedate white candle holders to contemporary gold. The bartenders,
in white shirts, black vests and bow ties, disappeared into the
back and returned wearing silky black shirts with gold chains at
their necks. Servers peeled off their conservative outer shirts to
reveal the t-shirts underneath; tight fitting satiny black for the
men, shiny gold on the women.

As quickly as the first shift of customers
disappeared, the second shift arrived, casually flowing in until
the place was full once again. This crowd was similar to the
earlier high end crowd with two exceptions. These patrons were ten
to fifteen years younger and the women had taken the time to change
from business chic to casual chic. Skirts were shorter, heels were
higher and necklines dipped dangerously, inviting wandering eyes to
explore their plunging depths. The drinks flowed more freely and
the conversation became louder.

Col sat back and watched a cluster of women
laughing and gesturing in the center of the room.

“This assignment just got a whole lot
easier.”

“I think I might order me one of those apple
martini things. You think they’d put it in a beer glass? Those
skinny stems always break.”

“That’s because you hold them in your fist
instead of your fingers, jackass. Didn’t you learn anything from
Mom?”

“Yeah. She taught me that I was the better
looking twin and I should be kind to my less fortunate and much
uglier brother.”

The twins enjoyed the view, laughed and
talked and never lost sight of their mission. They watched closely
and whenever someone came up to the bar or passed her on the way to
the lavatories, she was there, her voice low, her expression polite
as she asked them about the picture. Some shook their heads
politely. Some held their hands up in a don’t-bother-me gesture and
some curled their lip in a kind of disgust as if she were a piece
of gum on the bottom of their shoe. Her reaction was always the
same; a nod and a whispered thanks for their time. Hours
passed.

“You think she’s about done? She’s talked to
everyone in the place and no one new’s come in. Crowd’s thinning.
Everyone’s hookin’ up and goin’ home,” Dov sighed wistfully.

“Don’t even think about it. We’re sticking
with her until she’s locked up tight.” Col pointed a finger at his
brother’s nose. “And I know what you’re going to say, so don’t say
it. I don’t care if she doesn’t need two watchers. You signed on
and I’m not…”

“She’s got company.”

Hope smiled uncertainly as the man took the
seat next to hers, ignoring the other empty stools along the bar.
She fingered the picture, ready to ask that all important question,
but he spoke first.

“You come here often?” he asked. He appeared
to be in his early thirties and was as well dressed as the rest of
the crowd, but seemed to lack the air of confidence she’d
witnessed, and envied, in the other patrons.

“No,” she answered haltingly, “I’ve never
been here before.” She held out the picture and asked, as she had
so many times before. “Have you seen this woman? Do you know
her?”

“Sorry, no,” he said barely looked at the
photo. He licked his lips and glanced at his watch. “This is my
first time, too.”

Which she thought strange because he’d been
there all evening, moving from table to table, shaking hands,
kissing cheeks, laughing and talking with a familiarity that led
her to believe he was a part of this crowd, except for the nervous
energy. Even now, his foot was tapping and he repeatedly rubbed his
fingers against his thumb. What did he want?