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  A Guardian’s Love

  BOOK TWO of the GUARDIAN SERIES

  Stein Willard

  Back of the Book

  Her name is synonymous with death. As the Assassin of the Royal Vampire Clan, Paloma had followed orders without question. But the killing became too much even for her. At the risk of losing the last sliver of humanity she still possessed, the deadly Enforcer went to ground only to resurface five centuries later. In her absence, the world had changed, as would her life.

  Meanwhile, the daughter of two powerful vampires, twenty-year-old Inger Marsden was a free spirit who frequented pubs and nightclubs for two reasons: to hunt and destroy renegades hiding amongst humans and to find gorgeous women for no-strings attached liaisons. Life couldn’t get any better for the young slayer—or so she thought.

  A Guardian’s Love

  © Stein Willard 2008

  Affinity E-Book Press NZ LTD

  Canterbury, New Zealand

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form 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 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.

  Editor: Dawn Balistreri

  Editor: Lee Fitzsimmons

  Editor: Jodie Atkinson

  Cover Design: Helen Hayes

  Photo Credit: Stein Willard

  Photo Credit: Victoria Frances

  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. Nancy, your e-mail was the first ever e-mail I’ve received in my inbox. I have received many more from you since then, but I will always remember the first one. 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. I dedicate A Guardian’s Love to you. Thank you.

  Too many people have played a vital role in my growth as a writer. I can’t name you all but you know who you are. I pride myself on the fact that I’ve replied to each and every e-mail you’ve sent me because I loved getting to you all. Great friendships came from this and for this, I will always treasure you. Please take note that I’m still growing and I would always need your guidance and support.

  A talented team worked on this book. To Lee Fitzsimmons and Dawn Balisteri, my editors, I thank you for the great work you’ve done on the book. You really make me look good!

  A special mention to Helen Hayes for the great work on the cover. I really dig the cover!

  To my publisher, Affinity, thank you for the support, advice and all the times you go out of your way to accommodate me. It’s greatly appreciated.

  Last but not least, my family and friends, whoever hid my new laptop…I forgive you! If you return it, I promise to leave it at home and not hide in corners during parties, typing the night away.

  Dedication

  To you.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  France, 1530

  The smell of blood was thick in the air. The battle has been raging for almost two hours and within those two hours she had drank her fill of the enemy’s blood. Early on, she had taken on two burly men, and, just before killing them, had drank from them both. Not too much to make her sluggish, but just enough to take the edge of her hunger and sustain her for the remainder of the battle.

  As was her habit, Paloma quickly scanned the battlefield and felt immense relief when she saw the tall, dark figure of her friend slicing through a throng of enemy warriors. At least she was using her sword now. At the start of the battle, the Vampire Queen had burst head-on into the first line of enemy warriors without waiting for her army of Undead to follow. The sickening sounds of flesh tearing and bones crushing made her want to clamp her hands over her ears. Tahlia was angry and many people were going to have pay with their lives before her hemorrhaging heart could begin to heal.

  Feeling the silver eyes on her, Tahlia swung blood-red eyes in her direction. There was death in the red eyes and for a brief second Paloma almost felt sorry for the waves of enemy soldiers marching toward them, toward Tahlia, toward their deaths.

  For centuries, their Race had been hunted, and innocent lives lost in the process. This time, however, the enemy struck close to home, and Tahlia was sending out a brutal and bloody message to the Chinese Emperor. A message they wouldn’t forget easily. The battle was nearing its end. Once the enemy surrendered, the army of Undead would retreat to its camp, care for the injured and then go to ground before dawn.

  As was her prediction, the enemy retreated an hour later. Glancing to where she had spotted Tahlia last, Paloma found the dark vampire warrior standing motionless, looking at the broken bodies around her as if in a daze. She walked over and bowed deeply in front of her blood-splattered Queen. The broad shoulders were slumped and Paloma felt the pain of the Queen cleave through her.

  The battle had been won, but the pain remained. Two days ago, Tahlia had buried her lover. She’d gone on a rampage, killing almost two enemy battalions before the Royals got to her. Paloma felt the presence of other vampires behind her and sighed with relief. Jonas and Pierre had arrived. Tahlia was too powerful for her to subdue alone; but combined, the two Princes were powerful enough to control her if need be.

  “Shall we go for a walk, Tahlia? Dawn will break soon, and we need to clear our heads before going to ground.”

  The blood-red eyes were gone now. In their place: two pitch black pools of anguish stared out of a beautiful pale face.

  “Yes.”

  They’d walked in silence for quite a while before Paloma came to a stop. Tahlia kept on, prompting Paloma to follow her quickly. She knew where Tahlia was going. A few minutes later, they entered a clearing amongst a copse of trees. In the middle was a small fresh heap of earth. On top of it, a bunch of wildflowers rested near the foot of the grave.

  Tahlia stood, still as a statue. “How am I going to live without her, Paloma?”

  The voice sounded so forlorn that Paloma took a step closer. They had been friends since they were children, and Paloma knew that at that moment Tahlia needed a friend more than a subordinate. Paloma studied her friend’s face for a few seconds and felt her own heart breaking at the sight of the long red tears streaking Tahlia’s face. She knew how much Tahlia loved Amelia—with her beautiful long blonde curls and brilliant sapphire eyes. They had been very happy and had spent most of their time together. Amelia’s death was so unfortunate.

  “She was still so young and so innocent.”

  This time Tahlia’s voice broke and Paloma pulled her into a tight embrace. She knew there were no words that
would lessen Tahlia’s pain, so she merely held her in her arms.

  †

  Naples, Three Weeks Later…

  She knew of their presence even before they attacked. There were ten of them and no match for a master vampire of her age and skill. One was very close. She could smell his body odor mixed with a tinge of fear and excitement.

  His excitement made his blood pound against the walls of his veins, calling to her Hunger. She hated killing humans, but when it came to self-defense, she had no choice. This group had been responsible for the deaths of many of her warriors—noble and loyal warriors—who lived by the Creed of the Race, condemning the killing of humans. They all had died undignified deaths. Decapitation, their mouths stuffed with garlic and crude wooden stakes in their hearts. She shuddered. An oily, evil stench wafted up in her nostrils and her eyes hardened. Amongst the slayers was a very deranged human.

  “Keep your eyes open. She is very dangerous; you should not underestimate her.” The man who spoke was obviously the leader, because the other men quickly nodded and spread out.

  The leader was dressed in a dark leather battle suit with a broadsword hanging from his belt. Some would consider him handsome with his shiny black hair hanging loose about his shoulders and his dark brown eyes. But she sensed the darkness in him. He was dangerous. He was cruel and without a conscience.

  She was tired of killing, sickened by death, but sometimes there was no option. Her violent past would never leave her be. Just three weeks ago, she had stood on a battleground, splattered in blood, her veins pulsing with the thick adrenaline-filled blood of her enemy. She had been doing this for centuries—wiping out whole armies and making many women into widows. Never before had she been so conscious of her emotions—her feelings about life, love, death, and pain. She’d feared for her future while tearing through the army of human invaders. All brought about by the death of Amelia. Could she and would she ever find someone to love the way Tahlia loved Amelia? Their love was so great that Amelia’s death had pushed Tahlia over the edge, resulting in the biggest mass murder in history. Not able to stand the almost paralyzing pain of loss that was consuming her friend, she’d stolen away soon afterwards, needing time and space to clear her head.

  Here, overzealous and greedy human vampire slayers were stalking her. She slowly floated down from where she’d sat, high up in a tree looking down at the men. As much as she was deadened by the thought of what she was about to do, she wasn’t about to lay her life down yet. The men walked right past her, unaware of the horror hiding in the shadows. The evil man turned around and probed the shadows where she stood, waiting. Takes one monster to sense another, she thought coldly.

  “Good heavens, she is behind us,” his voice held so much fear that it stunned the other men with him. He turned quickly and grabbed one of the men nearest to him. “Shoot. Shoot, now, before she slaughters us.” Frozen by shock and fear, the man only stared at the twin red pools staring at him from the dark.

  She stepped out of the shadows, grabbed the man, and threw him against a tree trunk a few meters away. She growled her satisfaction when she heard the heavy thud. He wasn’t getting up. This fight had become personal because she was now avenging the deaths of her friends. She tore through the group like a warm knife through butter, trying to get to the evil man. She kept him in her sight, her sharp hearing zoned in on him.

  “You need to get away from here, Monsignor. She is more powerful than we thought,” one of the men shouted.

  The leader looked around and grabbed a dark-haired young man by the elbow. “Borromini is right. We need to get out of here.”

  The young man tried to pull away from the leader, his eyes on her. She spellbound him. Paloma grimaced when an arrow pierced her abdomen and with a snarl, she clutched it and pulled it out. A stream of blood rushed over her hand.

  “She is bleeding, Father. She is not invincible. We can destroy her.”

  The leader balled his fist and slammed it into the face of the younger man. The young man cradled his bleeding mouth.

  “We are leaving now, Jonah.”

  A gunshot rang out and all pandemonium broke out. She ducked, coming up behind the man who’d fired at her, snapping his neck. Another man with a sword came at her and she quickly sidestepped the blade and pierced him with her claws. Jerking upwards, she sliced him in two. Stepping over the mutilated body, she heard a carriage speed away and scanned the area. The leader had escaped. She contemplated chasing him down but instead returned to the fight. Their paths definitely would cross again.

  But first, she needed to put a continent or more between her and the memories of death and Tahlia’s pain. The state she’d left Tahlia in three weeks ago spelled danger. A lot of blood would flow before Tahlia’s broken heart was appeased and Paloma didn’t want to be part of that. She would go to ground for a few years. Once fully rested she would pick up where she’d left off and she would hunt down the leader and his band of killers.

  †

  New York, Present Day…

  A slow thud sounded. Then another and another until the sound caught a rhythm and began beating steadily. A gasp sounded and a rush of air filled compressed lungs. The earth shifted as elongated claws shot out. With both hands braced on the sides of the grave, the Vampire hoisted itself toward freedom.

  The eyes snapped open, taking in the area.

  Tombstones were everywhere she looked. Sharp silver eyes flicked over the nearest and zoomed in on the date of death, then widened in shock. What she intended as a short underground restorative nap, turned into a 500-year-long slumber. Tahlia!

  Last she remembered was being on a ship. Tahlia had disappeared and in her emotional state, it was impossible to predict what the Queen would do. Jonas was in Russia cleaning out a nest of rogues. Pierre and Genevieve were on holiday. That left her to track down a broken-hearted Tahlia. Over the centuries, the Dark Princes had learned to wriggle themselves subtly out of their duties when it came to Tahlia’s emotional state. She understood why. An emotional Tahlia was a deadly and volatile predator.

  The trip over to wherever she now found herself was hazy. She remembered that a few gold baubles swayed the captain easily. To be on the safe side and to prevent them from happening upon her during her daytime sleep, she had compelled the whole crew. She even drank from them without any bother.

  Paloma filled with shame and anger. All she wanted was to get away from the pain and death left in her wake. But she had shirked her responsibility. She had deserted her Queen and needed to find her.

  Was she still alive? She has to be. Please let her be, the vampire pleaded as she stumbled forward.

  But first things first. She needed to find her way through this unknown century. Then she would set off for Romania. Tahlia always went to ground there after the burial of her lovers. She came to a sudden stop as realization dawned. Amelia died 500 years ago. Maybe Tahlia wasn’t even underground. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shrunken body. She would search every corner of the earth so she could reunite with her friend. First, however, she had to get herself into shape. It would take her at least a couple of days and lots of fresh blood to regain full strength.

  A loud sputtering sound suddenly pierced the night. Confused, she jumped into the shadows, reaching for her sword. What kind of animal could make such a racket? Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the source of the noise. Her jaw dropped as she stared. A one-eyed steel horse, judging from the human straddling it, passed by, and the noise amplified. She covered her ears with her hands. The noise was almost unbearable for her sensitive hearing. She stared at the thing until it disappeared out of sight.

  She quickly stumbled further before the steel horse came back. Leaving the graveyard, she kept to the shadows. She was just about to slip into a dark alley when she sensed a group of young men ahead, their auras broadcasting violence. Her fangs pricked her tongue at the thought of the adrenaline-spiked blood rushing through their veins. They were the perfect snack for
a starving vampire.

  The closer she got to them the more intense her hunger become, so intense that her stomach clenched and released rapidly. Dressed in a cloak and with a slightly unsteady gait, she knew she fit the part of an easy target. She was halfway into the dark alley when a muscled young man with a shocking amount of markings on his upper arms stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

  “What do we have here?” His voice was gruff as he stepped closer. He reeked of violence, more so than the others did.

  “I do not want any trouble. Please let me pass?” she mumbled in a soft voice, playing her part to perfection.

  The man laughed and turned toward his friends. “What do you guys make of this? She must either be very brave or very stupid.”

  Three more young men stepped out of the shadows, all of them brandishing small daggers. At the sight of the blades, she almost laughed out loud. What damage can such a puny weapon do? She felt the heaviness of her broadsword hidden underneath her cloak and smiled. She’d keep it there. There was no need to embarrass the youngsters with the size of her power.