A Guardian's Love Page 13

  “No, Paloma. You misinterpreted my thoughts.” She reached out to Paloma, and her heart jumped in her chest when Paloma took another step back. This action brought Paloma against the bed. “I’m not scared of being alone with you. I feel safe with you.”

  “It hurts, Inger.” Paloma sounded so forlorn, that Inger felt like crying.

  Purposely keeping her mind blank to hide her next intention, Inger quickly pounced on her. A deep growl escaped Paloma’s throat before they both crashed onto the bed.

  Lying on top, Inger gently pushed the long blonde locks out of Paloma’s face. Paloma was so much stronger and could actually have swatted her away like a fly had she wanted to. Instead, she simply laid there, her silver eyes awash with pain.

  “All those thoughts meant nothing, my darling. I love you.” Inger’s voice was shaky, and tears blurred her vision. “I never meant to hurt you. Please believe me.”

  Paloma’s hand lifted, and she gently touched the tears on Inger’s cheeks.

  “Say it again.” The silver eyes were wide with wonder. “Tell me you love me again.”

  “I love you,” Inger whispered softly and planted a kiss on the sensual lips before she hid her tear-stained face in Paloma’s neck. “They were just random thoughts. I don’t even know where they came from.”

  Paloma’s arms came around her and held her tightly. “Hush…I love you too, sweetie. I love you more than words can express.”

  Inger lifted her head, her face set in a deep scowl. She rubbed over her wet cheeks.

  “Sweetie?”

  Paloma lifted a blonde eyebrow.

  “What is wrong with it? You call me sweetie and honey.”

  Inger laughed softly and hugged Paloma to her. The vampire’s naïveté was so refreshing at times. She made a mental note to be more careful with her thoughts in future. Over the past weeks, she had noticed Paloma looking at her with something akin to worried anticipation. Now she knew those expressions reflected a fear of expected rejection. It would take some time before her warrior would be truly convinced that she wanted to be with her…with Paloma, the Vampire Assassin. Inger planted a soft kiss on the cool cheek and smiled down into the glittering eyes. She promised herself to assure Paloma of her love often and fervently.

  “I love you, but please don’t call me sweetie again. You sound like an older woman who’s trying to take advantage of me.”

  “Who says it is not intended that way?” Paloma said in a suddenly husky voice and flipped them over until Inger was lying underneath her. Inger reached out immediately to pull the blonde head down for a passionate kiss. For a long moment, they were lost in each other’s taste, before Inger broke the kiss.

  “I love you,” she gasped. “I don’t have the words to make you understand just how much, my love.”

  The silver eyes were luminous.

  “Then show me, Cara.”

  †

  Tahlia surged into a sitting position. Startled, Jemima quickly sat up too. The sun had been down for about half an hour, but the two of them were still lounging on their bed cuddling and chatting, when Tahlia sprang up. Tahlia’s black eyes narrowed and Jemima immediately linked her mind with Tahlia’s.

 

  There was a short silence.

 

  Jemima turned to look at Tahlia. “Please don’t identify yourself. We don’t even know who this is.”

  Tahlia nodded.

 

  The pause was longer this time. And just when they thought she would not answer, the soft voice came again.

 

  Tahlia’s eyes widened a fraction, but no other outward sign portrayed her shock.

 

 

  And then the mental link severed. Tahlia lay back slowly, taking Jemima with her.

  “If that was Genevieve, then we know who our captured vampiress is. I will have to tell Pierre.”

  “I just hope this is not a hoax or, worse, an ambush. Either way, Pierre would be devastated.” Jemima sounded worried.

  “You are right.” A short silence followed. “Maybe I need to put Paloma onto this woman.”

  “Just make it clear that Inger is not to get involved. You know how stubborn she can be.”

  Tahlia pressed a gentle kiss on Jemima forehead. “I will do that.”

  But Tahlia was more worried than she let on. Something was not right, and she didn’t want either Jemima or Inger caught up in this.

  Chapter 12

  The gnarled hand reached out and touched the smooth tear-streaked cheek of the human. The girl’s eyes, frozen in horror, were fixed on the creature’s heinous face. Its deep-set eyes were aglow with bloodlust.

  “I love this century. Food is in abundance.” He turned his head and looked at the frowning woman who stood a few feet away. “What about you, Genevieve?” He turned back to the girl.

  The woman’s clear green eyes rested on the girl who trembled so hard, her teeth clattered. She felt sorry for the girl. Since their arrival a week ago, Mercredi had already killed four blood cows. His excessive appetite and psychopathic nature were a dangerous mix and put a lot of lives at risk. She turned away sadly, knowing the girl’s fate. Mercredi loved killing and if he had an audience, even better.

  She opened her mind and searched her immediate surroundings. It was about time that she got away from Mercredi. After his son’s death, Mercredi was so bent on revenge that he was bound to make a few mistakes. She had to exploit his distracted state.

  “I am going to my room.”

  “How boring and predictable, Genevieve. As much as I have appreciated your companionship over the past four centuries, I have to admit that you sorely lack a few social graces. We will have to work on that.”

  Ignoring the barb, she left the room.

  †

  Pierre’s eyes widened and he stepped away from Tahlia. His face was ashen and his entire body shook. He didn’t react when Jonas came to stand at Tahlia’s side. She held out her arm. With a quick glance at Jemima, Jonas bent over and sank his teeth into her wrist. The sudden pain made Tahlia flinch fractionally, but Jemima seemed to have noticed and she took a protective step forward.

  A sharp warning glare from Tahlia stopped her in her tracks. After twenty years together and having been witness to her immense power, Jemima still acted as if she were her personal bodyguard. Her gaze softened and a reluctant smile came to Jemima’s face. Jonas flicked his tongue over the pinpricks.

  “We need to verify this.” Jonas placed his hand on Pierre’s shoulder. “Did you recognize the voice?”

  It took Pierre a few seconds to answer. When he did, his voice sounded dejected.

  “No. It was not Genevieve. I know her voice.”

  “Do you think we should investigate the matter, Pierre?” Tahlia’s voice was soft and tender. “We will not if you do not want us to.”

  Pierre turned to look at her with sorrowful blue eyes, and Tahlia felt Jemima’s hold on her hand tighten.

  “What if it is just a hoax?”

  Jonas cleared his throat softly. “What if it is not? I would like to ask for permission to investigate the matter.”

  “If it might lead us to Mercredi, then I do not really have the right to refuse you. On one condition …” His voice turned cold. “I want to be part of the investigation.”

  †

  As soon as Pierre and Jonas had left the lounge, Jemima turned to Tahlia. The black eyes were velvety soft. No words were necessary and they both closed in for a lingering kiss. Afterwards they held each other.

  “I can’t imagine my life without you, darling.” Jemima planted a soft kiss on Tahlia’s smooth cheek. “I feel for Pierre.”

  “I know exactly what it feels lik
e, and I would not want to go back there again.”

  There was a soft knock on the door before it swung open. Inger stuck her head in and grinned. She stepped into the room followed by a stoic Paloma.

  “Hi, love birds. Paloma warned me to knock first before entering. I’m glad I did. You guys looked like you were up to no good,” Inger teased.

  Jemima looked up into Tahlia’s eyes and smiled when she found the unblinking eyes zeroing in on Paloma. She sniffed the air faintly and wrinkled her nose at the subtle musky scent of sex clinging to Inger and Paloma. No wonder Tahlia was staring daggers at Paloma. Paloma stared back calmly. Sighing softly, Jemima walked over to Inger and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Hello, my love.” She turned to Paloma. “Nice to see you too, Paloma.”

  Paloma acknowledged the greeting with a curt nod. Tahlia stepped closer to hug Inger.

  “You will have to stop glaring at Paloma like that, Mother. We are together, and like all new couples we are very much in love and can’t keep our—”

  “Please do not finish the sentence.” Tahlia groaned, holding up her hands. She placed a soft kiss on Inger’s crown as the girl giggled at her resigned mother’s subtle outburst. “It takes getting used to, seeing you all grown up.” She brushed a finger over Inger’s soft cheek. “I will try not to be so, how do you call it again—uptight.”

  There was a soft snort and all eyes in the room turned to Paloma, who was finding it difficult to keep a straight face. A stern look from Inger, and Paloma turned and quietly left the room.

  “What you see in her baffles me, you know.” Tahlia’s black eyes still focused on the closed door.

  Jemima heard soft laughter ring in Tahlia’s mind.

  “So how have you been lately?” Jemima grinned when Inger blushed. “The requests for advances on your allowance also seemed to have stopped. Found yourself a rich sugar mommy, did you?”

  “Oh, Mom…” Inger blushed even harder. “It’s not like that.”

  Jemima pushed a loose strand of hair behind Inger’s ear. “I know, honey. You seem happy.”

  Jemima saw Inger throw a cautious glance in Tahlia’s direction. “She’s unbelievable, Mom.” Jemima smiled when Inger looked back at her. The blue eyes glowed with love. “She is everything I’ve ever wanted, and I love her with all my heart.”

  A sigh of relief sounded and Jemima glanced at Tahlia. From the beginning, Inger and Tahlia had forged a bond, one that had grown stronger over the years. As much as Tahlia wanted Inger to be happy, she knew that it must be difficult to let go of her daughter so soon.

  “That was all I wanted to hear, my child. I know Paloma loves you, but I was not sure about your feelings for her. Now that I know it’s mutual, my heart can rest.”

  Inger burrowed into Tahlia as tears filled her eyes. “She is the one, Mom, and there will never be anyone after her again.” Jemima’s heart melted at the emotion in her daughter’s voice. Her eyes met Tahlia’s and they both smiled. Their daughter had found the same deep love they held for each other. Inger was going to be fine.

  The oak door swung open and Paloma entered. Her silver eyes darted fleetingly over Tahlia and Jemima before they came to rest on Inger.

  “Are you OK, sweetie?”

  “Sweetie?” Tahlia looked down at Inger. “It sounds so—”

  Jemima grinned at Inger, who was blushing fiercely. “I know, baby, but it seems to work for them.”

  Tahlia nodded slowly, looking at Paloma, who was still staring at Inger. “Paloma never really had any imagination.” This time she sounded suspiciously close to laughter. “Let’s give them privacy, love.”

  Hand in hand, they walked to the door, but Tahlia came to a brief stop next to Paloma. “Sweetie…” She shook her head and walked over to where Jemima was holding the door open for her. Once they were in the hallway, Jemima gave Tahlia a tight hug.

  “I’m so proud of you.”

  “You are?”

  “Tonight you managed to put even Paloma at ease by not scowling too much.” Jemima gave Tahlia a soft kiss. “And just for the record, I think sweetie is a cute endearment.”

  Tahlia pursed her lips. “It sounds strange coming from Paloma.”

  Laughing softly, Jemima hooked her arm into Tahlia’s as they slowly made their way down the long hallway.

  “I like it,” she said and leaned her head against Tahlia’s.

  Chapter 13

  Paloma lay in her big four-poster bed with a sleeping Inger cuddled against her. She recalled what had happened earlier in the evening. Paloma had ordered flowers and had candles strategically placed around the house. The ultimate surprise—the five star chef she’d hired to prepare an intimate dinner for two.

  When Paloma had pushed open the door to her mansion, the candles flickered on immediately, and she was thrilled at Inger’s look of pleased surprise. Over the last two decades, she had called upon the services of an interior designer to make the house look more like a home, hoping one day to bring Inger here. From the wide eyes of her lover, it was obviously money well spent.

  Inger was stunned. “Oohs and ahhs” were the only sounds she could muster as she toured the eight bedroom mansion. Afterwards they had cuddled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace when George Grain, the chef, announced that dinner was ready. Once again, Inger was speechless. Her eyes flickered from the chef to her and back to the grinning chef.

  “Baby, that’s…that’s…” Inger finally gasped when the chef had left them.

  “George Grain, I know.” Patiently, she had looked at her star struck lover. “It is truly good to see my attempts to impress are working.”

  An unbelievably brilliant smile lit up her young lover’s face at that, and she was rewarded with a deep, toe-curling kiss, leaving her brain scrambled long afterwards.

  Throughout dinner, Inger had cast worried looks her way as Paloma spooned forkfuls of food into her mouth. From Inger’s appetite and commentary, it was clear that George Grain had lived up to his name. The unpleasant lump of shrimp and asparagus in the pit of her stomach was the ultimate sacrifice for the perfect romantic night.

  The last time she had tried to eat solid food, was many centuries ago when both she and Tahlia were still fledglings, and before they were promoted to their current status. Growing up poor, they’d never had the opportunity to eat thick slabs of beef soaked in gravy or sweet, fresh vegetables. They’d visited a tavern and had ordered heaping plates of food, just to become violently ill later, emptying their stomach contents in the alley at the back of the tavern.

  By the time they had come to bed it was already past twelve, but before she could reach for Inger, the brunette had stepped away. Her blue eyes were pensive.

  “If I try really hard, I can get my head around the daylight drug thing, but you’ve just stuffed your face, and, except for the peculiar green tint around your mouth, you are still doing okay. Do you want to tell me something?”

  Grinning, Paloma had taken a seat on the bed. “The last time I ate solid food was 2000 years ago. You have no idea how unpleasant it was. I still shudder when I think about it.”

  Inger had moved to sit next to her. “Then why did you do it again? I know you’re a vampire and that you don’t do solid food.”

  “I just wanted us to have a normal romantic evening together.”

  The tenderest of expressions had crossed over Inger’s face before she’d planted a soft kiss on her lips.

  “Your reputation as the one vampire not to mess with is taking a serious knock tonight, Assassin. You are so sweet.” Inger had placed her hand on Paloma’s stomach, rubbing it gently. “Are you sure you will be OK. I’ll understand if you’re not up for making love tonight. The evening alone was exceptional.”

  As much as she’d wanted to take advantage of having Inger in her own bed for the first time, the churning coil of food in her stomach was too unpleasant to ignore. She’d considered slipping out of bed once Inger was asleep, to get rid of the food before it lea
ked out of all the pores of her body.

  “Maybe you are right. I should not aggravate my already burdened stomach.” They had slowly undressed each other between tender kisses and gentle touches. Because Inger planned to get up early tomorrow morning to finalize her reading report, she’d fallen asleep almost immediately. Paloma was left cradling her close to her body, memorizing every inch of her beautiful face.

  Now, three hours later, though slightly tired because she was no longer taking her daylight naps, Paloma realized that looking down into the face of her beloved was much more satisfying than sleep. She gently kissed the cool brow and smiled when Inger mumbled something in her sleep before snuggling deeper into her arms. She was gently stroking the raven locks when she felt the slight disturbance in the air. Immediately she sent out her senses, and what she found made her eyes burn with intense fury. The audacity!

  Paloma gently disentangled herself from Inger’s limbs and reached for her clothes. In her unbridled rage, her hand had morphed into claws, ripping through her shirt. Swearing under her breath, she stared long at her hand willing it to change back. Ach, what the hell… Flicking her wrist, she was dressed at once. She stopped briefly to arm herself before streaking out into the night.

  †

  Balanced on a thick branch overlooking the foliage of the mansion’s garden, a set of sharp green eyes pierced the night. She is in there. I can sense her. It felt incredibly uncomfortable and stupid to broadcast her presence to such a dangerous and powerful woman. Who says she won’t just come after her in a killing rage.

  Compared to Paloma Soleil, she was a babe in the woods, having been made a mere 400 years ago. She hadn’t seen the Assassin in action, but her fighting ability was legendary—even amongst renegades. She grimaced at the term renegade. She hated it.