Guardian's Hope (12 page)

“I don’t need them,” she said now to cover
the heat rising to her face, “I have two perfectly serviceable
skirts and several blouses and sweaters. I told them that I have
money of my own, that I don’t need their charity. Apparently, they
weren’t listening. They were too busy taking all the tags. How will
I return them?”

Nico laughed and, just as in sleep, his face
softened. Hope liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. He
doesn’t laugh enough, she thought.

“It’s not charity. Manon did the same for
Grace and they won’t let you return them,” he said, still
chuckling. “Don’t even try. It’s a battle you can’t win. Once those
two get something in their teeth, they don’t let go. Look at all
the construction around here. That’s their doing. They decided the
House should be expanded. Canaan said no. It was fine the way it
was.” He spread his hands and shrugged. “You see the results.”

“Why would they go ahead when he’d forbidden
it and why would he let them?” In her world, man’s word was
law.

“They went ahead because it needed to be
done. There’s no privacy here and while it never bothered the men,
it sometimes bothers Grace. Canaan loves her and wants her to be
happy.” He paused for a moment. “Don’t think for a minute Grace
pushes him around. Canaan’s won his share of battles. He’s not one
to move where he doesn’t want to go and Grace would never push
beyond those limits. She loves him fiercely and wants his happiness
as well.” He almost said he envied them, that he wanted what they
had for himself.

“Someday you’ll find it,” Hope said quietly
as she laid her hand gently on his arm. She didn’t apologize for
reading his thoughts.

“It’s not for me,” he said, just as quietly
and left her standing alone in a room full of new clothes.

Chapter 11

Hope removed another handful of books from
the cases that lined one wall of the parlor, dusted their place on
the shelf along with the exposed edges of the pages and replaced
them. The book cases fit so well with the rest of the room she
thought they were original to it, but Grace had explained that
while they were original to the house, they were a fairly recent
addition to the parlor, the only addition in a hundred years. She
hoped when Nardo moved out of the former library, the bookcases
would remain here. She loved them and the room. It was her favorite
room in the house.

“So when Grace came into the family, the boys
really were boys even though they’re in their twenties,” she
continued her conversation with Otto, “And the lilies on their
chests aren’t tattoos, but blossomed, for lack of a better word,
when they became men. And the ribbon beneath the lilies, what does
Paenitet Me mean?” She paused before removing another stack of
books.

“It means ‘I repent’. It’s a constant
reminder of the sins of our forefathers.”

That fit with the story Manon had told her,
though how such markings could miraculously appear on these men
sometime between the ages of twenty-three and twenty-seven was
still baffling. Another batch of books were removed, dusted, and
replaced.

“Now, how do you fit into the family. Are you
Canaan’s uncle or the twins’?”

Otto sat in the chair by the fire, not the
one she thought of as Nico’s, but the one opposite. The night was
warm enough to do without, but a fire in the grate always made the
room more cheerful.

“Neither. I’m not related by blood to anyone.
The titles strictly honorary, but I like to think I’m everyone’s
uncle. Yours too, if you’d like.”

“I’ve never had an uncle.” She liked this
man. Quiet and friendly, he always made her feel welcome. This was
the first chance she’d had to talk with him alone.

“Well there you go. You’ve got one now. How
are you settling in?”

“Much better, now, thank you.” Nardo had
worked his magic with the computer, checked sources, he assured
her, that were more reliable than any she could find and called no
attention to the questioner which going to the police would
certainly do. The woman found floating in the river was not her
sister, but another lost soul and while her heart ached for the
poor woman dying lost and alone, it meant that Faith was still out
there waiting to be found.

“I won’t say it’s been easy. Everything here
seems the opposite of everything I’ve known and I mean everything.
Even the clothes.”

She looked down at her navy slacks and the
light blue patterned blouse. Underneath she wore a pair of skimpy
blue silk panties and a matching bra that Manon said “offered
support”. Wearing these beautiful things made her feel almost
pretty. It was probably a sin of pride and conceit but she no
longer cared. It felt good to feel good. She swept a piece of
imaginary lint off her slacks just to feel the fine wool beneath
her fingers.

“I’ve never worn trousers before, though I
must admit, I’d thought about it out in the barn on cold winter
mornings. Here, let me get that.” She rescued Uncle Otto’s mug
before he placed it on the unprotected mahogany table. She glanced
inside and sniffed the contents. The coppery smell couldn’t be what
she thought it was. “What is this?”

He looked surprised. “You don’t know? I
thought someone had already told you by now. Surely
if-it’s-in-my-head-it’s–out-my-mouth Dov would have mentioned
it.”

She smiled at his accurate reference and
looked back at the cup suspiciously. “No. I’m sure I would have
remembered it.”

“Ah, well,” he said and pointed to the sofa.
“You’d better sit down. You’re not going to like what I tell you.”
He waited until she was settled. “How much have they told you about
the Paenitentia?”

“Manon told me the story of the Daughters of
Man. Sometime after that she told me that your story was similar
but you blamed it all on the women.” Hope smiled to show she meant
no offence.

“And the Guardians?”

“They’re born to protect the Paenitentia from
the demons that cross over to this world,” she repeated what Grace
had said.

Uncle Otto nodded and quoted from memory,
“Time passed and the Nephilim lost their way. They abused their
gifts, used their size and strength to make war for their own
advancement and eventually began to feed on the blood and lives of
humans. Over the centuries they forgot the strictures of their
fathers. God was not pleased and he set a curse upon their kind.”
He looked so solemn. “Feeding on the blood of humans. Think about
that, what it means.”

“Murder,” she said quietly, “I thought it
meant murder.” Though now she wasn’t so sure.

“The meaning is literal,” he said, confirming
her doubts. “The Paenitentia foreswore the practice. Except for one
very special circumstance, they don’t drink blood. Ever. But
there’s still the curse. You’ve heard them use the terms ‘turned or
turning’?

She nodded, too stunned to speak. Dov and Col
used the words all the time when teasing each other. She hadn’t
thought about the meaning.

“Unless we die of old age or accident or you
take our heads or hearts, Paenitentian males don’t die once, but
twice. Because of the curse, if we die a violent death the first
time, we turn.” He paused, giving her time to digest what he was
saying. His next words were said quietly and calmly. “Turn is short
for turning vampire. I was once a Guardian. Now, I’m an outcast
among everyone but those of this House. That blood,” he pointed to
his mug, “is my salvation. It’s what keeps me from evil. I’m
vampire, Hope.”

She couldn’t help it. She found herself
inching along the sofa away from him. “No,” she whimpered.

“Yes,” he said sadly. “I’ll leave you now to
make up your own mind as to how you feel about me. But before I go,
I want you to understand that you’re not in danger from me. I
couldn’t do that to Manon. We’re mated and bound and I’d take my
own life before I’d endanger hers. That’s what kept me from her for
four long years. It’s the same for you and Grace. Canaan should
have killed me when it first happened. It was his duty, but he
loved me and cared for me as best he knew how. Grace found the way
to let me live an almost normal life, but if it came to a choice
between us, he would rightly choose her safety over my life.” He
rose quietly and easily so as not to frighten her any more than she
already was and headed for the door. “You think about it.”

“I already have,” she said as he reached the
hall and it was true. Nico, Dov and Col had protected her when she
was a stranger. They would be even stronger in the defense of Manon
and Grace who they loved. She tried to smile. “I’ve only met
kindness and acceptance in this House, from you as well as the
others. I’ve never felt the need to lock my bedroom door. The
Guardians are meant to fight demons and the evil they carry. If you
were evil, they’d fight you, too. Nico says my instincts are good
and I should trust them, so I’m putting that to the test. I believe
you, Uncle Otto,” she said, using the familial term purposely. She
wrinkled her nose. “But I don’t think I can wash out your cup.”

Uncle Otto nodded and laughed in relief. “And
I’ll never ask you to. I think that’s a fair bargain. I also think
Dov’s right about you. He says you’re a keeper.” He winked at her
and continued through the door.

*****

Canaan stood with his fists on his hips and
looked at the jumble of computers, cords and boxes. Nardo was in
the process of moving his equipment to its new home and while he
appreciated the help in carrying it all, he insisted on setting it
all up by himself. No one argued with his decision.

“I could swear there wasn’t this much in the
other room.”

Nardo bumped his head as crawled out from
under a desk. He took a moment to rub the spot. “There wasn’t. I
kept a lot of it in my room.”

“I had a couple of things I wanted to ask
about, but you’ve got enough on your plate. I’ll catch you
later.

Nardo unwrapped the cord that wound around
his foot. “No, no. Ask away. I can talk and work at the same time.
I’ve got something for you, too.”

Canaan cleared the rubble from a chair and
turned it around to straddle it. “Grace says you’re almost ready to
market your Guardian’s game.”

“Oh yeah. It needs a little tweaking, but
it’s pretty much there.” He picked up a cord, looked at the
surrounding equipment, shrugged and threw it back on the floor.
“I’m beginning to think I could’ve used a little organizational
help here,” he mumbled at the mess and looked up at Canaan. “What
were you saying?”

“Grace seems to think your game might do well
on the human market as well as with the Paenitentia. What do you
think?”

Nardo pounced on another cord and grinned. “I
think she could be right.” He stopped his crawling and sat down to
face Canaan. “Look. Our kids are hooked on games produced by humans
because that’s all there is and those games aren’t much different
from mine. Okay,” he grinned, “Mine’s better, but only Paenitentian
kids are going to know that the Guardians of the Race are real.
It’s not like there’s anything in it that’ll convince a human
otherwise. So yeah, I think we can sell it to them, too.”

“Grace thinks you should have a website.”

“I already do. As a matter of fact, I have
several of them out there.”

“No, I mean one set up to market this game.
She’s thinking merchandise, t-shirts and who knows what else. She’s
thinking Hope would have the knowhow to run it.”

“She probably does and it would certainly be
a better fit than the butt-plug business, no pun intended.” Nardo
grinned so that Canaan would know that it was intended. “I mean, a
lot depends on popularity and sales. There’d have to be an initial
outlay of cash for merchandise. Hope has more experience than the
rest of us, but would she do it? She’s not proud of the ‘Naughty
Nighty’.”

“It won’t hurt to ask. I wanted to run it by
you first. Grace says she likes cooking for us and keeping house,
but it was her choice. Hope was forced to do it in her father’s
house and Grace doesn’t want her to think she has to continue doing
it here. Just to pay her way, you know.”

“Her old man’s must have been one helluva
bastard. I don’t think she really understands that.” Nardo was
looking for cords again.

“I don’t think so either, but it’s not for us
to tell her. She’s smart enough. She’ll figure it out in the
end.”

Nardo was back under a desk, his butt facing
Canaan. “What about Nico? The twins seem to think he’s got the hots
for her.” He didn’t mention that he wholeheartedly agreed.
Sometimes, he had the urge to yell “Hope’s in trouble!” just to
watch Nico fall over himself trying to run to her rescue. Mr. GQ
was looking a little frazzled lately.

“The twins should keep their opinions to
themselves. Personally, I have enough trouble keeping up with my
own love life. I don’t need to get involved with anyone else’s.” He
gave Nardo a meaningful look.

“I hear you.”

“I knew you would. What did you have for
me?”

“Shit!” He banged his head again as he
crawled out from under. “Nico’s floater? There was another one a
few weeks before. I got curious. Okay, I was playing around,
really, and got lucky. I was checking out towns along the river
downstream and came across another young woman, riddled with
cancer, face down in the shallows. They ruled her a suicide too,
but it seems fishy to me. What’re the chances of two young women,
both riddled with untreated cancer, both offing themselves in the
same river just a few weeks apart. I don’t know what it is, boss,
but it ain’t right.”

“I get that. Any ID on the other one?”

“No, but she was African American so…”

“It’s not Hope’s sister.” Canaan indicated
the room. “Get yourself set up here and keep looking. And thanks.
You do good work.”