A Guardian's Touch

  A Guardian’s Touch

  Guardian’s Series Book 1

  by

  Stein Willard

  A Guardian’s Touch

  Guardian’s Series - Book 1

  By Stein Willard

  Revised Edition Copyright 2013

  First Edition copyright 2012

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form other than that which it was purchased and without the express permission of the author or publisher. Please note that piracy of copyrighted materials violate the author’s right and is illegal.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Credits:

  Editor: BMac

  Editor: R. Lee Fitzsimmons

  Cover Design: DEPE

  Back of the Book

  For 2,000 years Tahlia had lived on the fringes of humanity as one of the most powerful and feared Royal Vampires in existence. The only ray of light in her endless brutal existence is the reincarnation of her human lover, Aurora. For the past 20 centuries, the blue-eyed beauty's love added a gentle touch to the otherwise deadly veneer of the Vampire Queen. As protector and lover, she passionately loved her mortal partner and jealously guarded her existence.

  But that all changes when her lover's birth coincides with the resurfacing of a cunning and elusive enemy set out to upset the Vampire hierarchy. This time the target is not Tahlia—directly. It does however; threaten the Vampire Queen's existence.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost I would like to thank the readers who had taken the time to read my work and in particular the Guardian series. You are all a true inspiration and its great honor for me to have been able to write for you. Thank you so much!

  Special thanks to Nancy, my Number One fan and the reason my books are being publish. Thank you for talking me into publishing the Guardian series!

  To the usual suspects, my betas: rleef, peetsden and Dan who worked on the manuscript when it was still in a very, very raw form. Thank you.

  A talented team worked on this book. I thank you for the great work you’ve done on the book

  Dedication

  To all my friends who aren’t here to read this book.

  R.I.P

  Prologue

  Transylvania, 32 B.C

  The place made her skin crawl. When they were coming up the cobblestone path leading to the castle, she felt a shiver run down her spine as she gazed upon the tall moss-covered walls. That was when she felt the aura of danger that clung to the place—dangerous, but not necessarily evil. Still, a feeling of jeopardy was a good enough reason to be frightened of the unknown. A movement to her right made her jump as a shaky hand grabbed her arm.

  “I am scared, Tahlia. This…this place frightens me.”

  Tahlia’s eyes slowly roamed over the imposing walls of the mysterious castle before she turned to look at her best friend. Paloma’s eyes looked overly large in her pale face, and Tahlia reached out to place her arm around her friend’s shoulder. She felt Paloma burrowing deeper into her lanky frame, and Tahlia tightened her hold even further.

  “It is just the dark playing tricks on your eyes, Paloma. This is a new land and everything looks scary and unfamiliar. Come morning you will see that you were scared for nothing.” She silently prayed that her voice didn’t give away her own trepidation. She studied Paloma’s face closely, waiting patiently for a sign that her reassuring words had sunken into her friend’s fear-hazed mind.

  †

  Tahlia and Paloma had done everything together since they were nine and ten respectively. Paloma Soleil and her parents moved to Rome from a tiny nearby village so that her father could enlist in the Roman army. With sporadic droughts plaguing the land, most of the farmers had deserted their poorly cultivated parcels of land in search of a more stable income to provide for their families. However, Heron Soleil’s dream of escaping poverty was short-lived. Not long after he’d found a position as a foot soldier, he was killed on the battlefield. Trampled to death under the hoofs of an enemy’s warhorse, he left behind a grieving widow and a daughter to fend for themselves on the harsh streets of Rome. Pickpockets and drunken soldiers pouncing on vulnerable girls and women overran the city. Fortunately, Tahlia’s mother took the pair in.

  Tahlia remembered the day her friend entered her life...

  As was their routine, Tahlia and her mother would wake up early every day to walk to the soldiers’ barracks to collect soiled uniforms and clothing that they would wash and return to their rightful owners at a price. It was on one of their deliveries that they rounded a corner and heard the muffled screams of a woman. Right before their eyes, a young girl pummeled the back of a man who was holding a woman up against the wall. With one hand wrapped around the woman’s neck, he was fumbling at the fastenings of his soiled britches. She was too young to understand fully what was transpiring, but from her mother’s enraged exclamation, Tahlia could deduct that it wasn’t good. Her strides lengthened before she stopped and watched as her mother tilted her washing basket, dropped the washing, and rushed to where the woman was struggling with the man. Using the heavy basket, her mother’s forceful and unexpected attack, caused the drunken soldier to release the woman and slink away into the shadows of the early morning.

  Tahlia watched her mother’s stormy eyes as she knelt next to the gasping woman and gently lifted her bruised face.

  “Are you badly injured?” Tahlia heard her mother ask.

  “No…my daughter! Where is my daughter?” the woman who had fallen to the ground asked.

  Tahlia watched as the shaking girl stepped closer before throwing her arms around her mother’s neck. The two gently rocked, seemingly oblivious to the others’ presence. After a few moments, the woman lifted her head and looked up into Tahlia’s mother’s eyes.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much for helping us.”

  “I am glad that I came at the right time. My name is Grinolde Oliveira, and this is my daughter, Tahlia.”

  “Verandah Soleil. This is my daughter, Paloma. I…I cannot thank you enough for what you just did.”

  “No thanks is necessary, Verandah. Can you stand?”

  “I think so”

  Tahlia remembered looking at the quiet girl standing by her mother’s side. Her eyes, however, were intense as she looked at her mother’s bruised face. Tahlia slowly moved over to the girl and carefully reached for a hand that she found to be cold. They stared at each other as their fingers locked before she squeezed Paloma’s hand tightly. Even when Grinolde insisted that Verandah and Paloma accompany them home, Tahlia remembered that their hands had stayed joined while they walked briskly through the streets of early dawn Rome to their small hut. Tahlia caught the eyes of her mother giving her a look of pride.

  As she grew up, Tahlia would sometimes find her mother looking at her with a mixture of love and sadness caught in those stolen glances. When she was old enough to ask about her father, her mother told her that he was gone, but the best part of him was captured within her. She had left it at that. Tahlia’s thoughts turned to Paloma’s mother and what life had been for them.

  A single parent herself, Grinolde Oliveira
was a striking woman who was naïve enough to believe in the sweet, lying tongue of a traveling merchant from the province of Lusitania. After losing her parents in a midnight raid by a band of vanguards, Grinolde’s relatives sent her to Rome to live with her uncle, Orlan Versper. A former gladiator, Orlan had many physical ailments that impaired his ability to care for his young niece. This prompted the headstrong girl to leave the safety of the small shack they shared to look for employment to put food on the table. At age seventeen, Grinolde was exceptionally pretty: tall, with flowing chestnut hair that framed an oval-shaped face of rare beauty. She was the cause of many stampedes to the stall where she sold breads and pastries for a local merchant. It was there that she caught the eye of Fernando de Sousa. Rich and darkly handsome, his arrogance knew no bounds when he approached her. Overwhelmed by the handsome foreigner’s worldly aura and conduct, Grinolde soon lost her heart to the sultry looks and eloquence of his smooth tongue. After a short courtship, in which he lavished her with many gifts and even sweeter kisses, Fernando relentlessly pressed the young woman to prove to him the extent of her commitment to him. Grinolde knew of only one way to do so.

  Once Fernando had her in his bed and got her with child, he never looked back. Heartbroken, deserted and with child, Grinolde vowed never to allow any such treachery from a man again. From deep within, Grinolde found the courage to continue to take care of her ailing uncle and her unborn baby. Just when she was sure that Fernando’s ghost no longer haunted her and her heart had almost healed from his betrayal, her baby was born. Her heart broke all over again, for against her chest, she held the spitting image of her deceitful lover. Her little angel favored her handsome father's dark good looks. A shock of midnight black hair and even darker eyes was a constant reminder of Grinolde’s naiveté.

  For Tahlia, life was tough, but at least they were four. Together, her mother and Verandah Soleil managed to make ends meet and kept their daughters from the roving eyes and groping hands of drunken soldiers—but it was an uphill battle.

  She remembered how she and Paloma feigned sleep as they lay before the smoldering fire. Their day was full of selling sweetbread and delivering clean uniforms to the soldiers. They were tired yet strained to hear what their mothers were saying. In hushed tones, their mothers, curled up on the cot they shared, spoke…

  Grinolde and Verandah had heard about an unbelievably rich man who was recruiting fit and healthy young women and men to serve under him as scholars. In return, he would make sure that each parent who enlisted a child received a generous compensation with a patch of land and more money than they could spend in one lifetime. Both women thought it was a great way to save their daughters from the hardships of a life they endured, which the two girls were sure to inherit one day. Their daughters already were past the age of marriage, and the mothers had fought tooth and nail to keep possible suitors at bay while grooming their daughters for a better life.

  “Who says we are not delivering our daughters to a more horrible fate by taking them away to that foreign land, Verandah? At least here they are under our watchful eyes and every man knows that they are not on offer for marriage.”

  Verandah sighed deeply. “Have you not noticed how they are being stared at when we go out to the market together? They are beautiful and healthy, and even Caesar’s guards are showing an interest in them. I have spotted Tahlia in the company of some of Caesar’s guards on a number of occasions.” Verandah was quiet for a moment. “They are not children anymore, Grinolde. We have managed to keep them safe but can do so for only so long. At twenty-two and twenty-three summers they already are far beyond the age for marriage. Except for their beauty, no man would want to take a woman that old. It is said that at their ages they are sure to die of childbirth even before they have set eyes on their firstborns.”

  There was a long silence. With their heads under the covers, Tahlia and Paloma had stared at each other with wide eyes. They were eager to know what fate had in store for them.

  “If they are too old for marriage, what use will they be to him, then?”

  “They are young and healthy, Grinolde. That is all he is looking for. Imagine our girls one day, Grinolde. Imagine the daughters of two washers being able to read and write.”

  There was a soft giggle.

  “You are right. Being able to read and write will put them in a higher class than where they are now. Kings and noblemen will fight amongst themselves for their attention.”

  Concealed under the heavy rough blankets, Tahlia found Paloma’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. Their fates were sealed, and they’d be together.

  †

  They had traveled for almost a month, staying on the road and avoiding the dense forests for fear of bands of outlaws overpowering them. It was with a great sense of relief that they’d reached Transylvania. They had asked for directions from residents of a small village for directions. Upon uttering the name of the man they were looking for, Tahlia had seen a number of the villagers making a quick sign in their direction. She knew it was for warding off evil.

  The villagers pointed the four women into the direction of a dark imposing mountain range. It took them the rest of the day to reach their destination—a gigantic dark, looming castle built within a crevice in the mountain. It was already past midnight, yet the castle felt alive. It was as if it had eyes that followed their every step until they reached the heavy double doors. A thin, haughty man ushered them inside even before they knocked. Inside, the castle was warm and well lit, the light of the candles bouncing off the walls adorned with paintings and thick exquisite looking tapestries. The floors had thick carpets that cushioned their steps.

  The place was beautiful, but Tahlia still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending danger. She groped for Paloma’s hand. They’d always had each other. In happiness and in sadness Tahlia had shared every minute with Paloma. After ten years of living like sisters, their bond was unbreakable. She felt Paloma’s hand tighten around hers, and they looked quickly at each other. She could see that Paloma’s silver eyes were almost transparent with fear, and Tahlia knew her black eyes reflected the same.

  Tahlia watched as the thin butler pushed open a door, and the four women gasped. In the middle of the room was a long table decked with pastries, a golden brown stuffed duck, boiled eggs, cheese, grapes, wine, and a variety of cold meats.

  “The master will be with you soon. In the meantime, he humbly requests that you share in the dinner he has set out for you,” the butler said.

  They slowly made their way to the table. For the past month that they were on the road, their daily diet existed of moldy bread and cheese—not very appetizing but it helped to keep the hunger pangs at bay. Confronted with the banquet before them, they were shocked. Once the hunger pangs kicked in, they ate quickly fearing that the feast would evaporate into thin air. Grinolde and Verandah made sure that they stashed a few tasty morsels in their travel packs for later. It was a long journey back to Rome and they had to set off immediately after the nobleman had examined the girls.

  “This is the kind of life you will be leading. Imagine the beautiful frocks you will be wearing and the nice warm rooms you will be sleeping in.” Grinolde was smiling as she was trying to reassure the girls.

  Tahlia knew her mother well and she knew that she was resisting the urge to grab her daughter and run back from where they’d come.

  When Tahlia’s father disappeared, a pregnant Grinolde had taken on the name of the man who had enticed her with his lies and deserted her with a baby on the way. Having taken his name had helped with the lies she had to come up with to appease neighbors back in the village. She’d told them that she had married a Lusitanian mercenary soldier who died in battle. Her lie was easily accepted, and she and her baby escaped the vicious gossip relatively unscathed. Mother and daughter had been through a lot together and their love for each other was unrivaled.

  The first time they discussed the offer of the nobleman, Grinolde told Tahlia that she w
as standing on the brink of losing her only child but two things made her sacrifice worthwhile. Her child would have ample food and not go to bed hungry, and Tahlia would learn how to read and write. Grinolde added that in Rome her daughter’s life would be one of a peasant, selling bread and cheese on street corners, getting married for protection, bearing a ghastly number of children one after the other, and eventually dying young. In the end, it was Tahlia’s suggestion that they go through with this, because she knew her mother never would have made the decision herself, even though she needed the money.

  “Everything will be fine, Mother. Paloma and I will look out for each other,” Tahlia whispered.

  “Of course, you will be fine, young lady.”

  They hadn’t heard the door open. Tahlia turned and saw a tall, impeccably dressed, well-built man with long blonde hair held back in a ponytail, walk toward them. He came to stand in front of them and bowed deeply to the two older women.

  “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Valentyn Ordeleus Lecrac. I hope the food has been to your liking.”

  As the man spoke, Tahlia studied him closely. By dodging the groping hands of men, drunken and even sober, back home, she had learned very early on not to base a man’s character on his looks alone. But this man was different. He had a strange aura about him. He was very handsome, albeit a bit pale, but his blue eyes were sad as they moved over them. Grinolde and Verandah bobbed quickly to acknowledge his presence.

  “Thank you very much for your hospitality, milord. I am Grinolde Oliveira and this is my dear friend, Verandah. We have brought our daughters to you for consideration.” Grinolde pointed to the two girls. “As you can see, milord, they are healthy, beautiful, and very clever.”