A Guardian's Passion Read online

  With a shaky hand Gabriella switched off the TV set and came to her feet. She had been so busy of late with her growing business and her relationship that she had completely forgotten about that part of her life. She looked at her hands, watching with practiced detachment as they shook lightly.

  Vampires. Just the thought of them made her shudder with fear. They exist, but only a handful of people were aware of these creatures operating on the fringes of everyday life. When she heard of how Luisa had died, she had known immediately that a vampire had killed her. Luisa was only fifteen and to have her life taken away so brutally, was difficult for Gabriella to process—still is. That was also the last time she'd seen…her.

  Trinity had known how close she was to Luisa and came to her that night when they’d discovered Luisa's body to comfort her. After vampires killed her parents and brother when she was only seven years old, Gabriella got a second chance at living a normal live as opposed to that of an orphan in the numerous overpopulated Catholic-run orphanages. Thanks to Trinity, she had been happy for eight blissful years. Trinity made sure that she'd never wanted for anything. Gabriella had felt precious and protected. It all changed when Luisa, her tough-talking, fearless friend got murdered on her way home after a short visit with Gabriella to exchange comic books. Her adopted parents had tried to break the news gently when she came home from school, but when Luisa hadn't show up for school; she'd known something was wrong.

  As the truth sunk in, Gabriella was inconsolable. That night, she had vented her fear and frustration on Trinity, saying the most awful things to her. Then she had sent Trinity away, asking her never to make contact with her. For months afterwards she had found herself waiting for that soft ripple in the air that would signal Trinity's arrival, but it never came.

  After finishing high school, she'd traveled Europe for a year to make up her mind on what she'd wanted to study. Upon her return home, she had opened a catalogue of a college, a reputable one and thanks to the college fund Trinity had set up for her, closed her eyes and blindly made a career choice. Her parents were stunned at her choice, but allowed her the freedom to pursue what her heart desired.

  Her heart constricted at the thoughts of her parents. They were wonderful and had loved her as if she was their own. In return she adored them and tried to be a model daughter. Some of her best memories were taking her mother with her to social events and have the journalists and photographers fawn over the quiet, shy woman. Kate secretly loved the attention, calling it her Cinderella moments. Her father was the complete opposite of her mother, but just as easy to please. A few basketball tickets for him and his buddies always kept him on a high long afterward. Four years ago her world crumbled yet again, when a drunk driver crashed into the back of their car while they waited at a traffic light pushing the car in the path of an oncoming truck. She still grieved for them and doubted that she would ever completely heal from the loss.

  Gabriella picked up her half-empty mug and carried it into the kitchen. All these morose thoughts were spiraling her dangerously close towards depression. In the past she’d always had someone to pull her from the dark abyss. First there was Trinity, who was her rock after her biological parents’ death, then her adopted parents when Luisa was murdered and finally Jessica, who supported her when her parents died four years ago. Unlike those times, she was alone now. She’ll have to keep her head and try not to lose it for there was no one to come to her rescue and she didn’t know how to help herself.

  After rinsing the mug and putting it away, Gabriella took the stairs to her bedroom. She stopped on the landing and couldn't help but notice that the apartment felt big and empty without Jessica. For a brief moment she questioned her decision in telling Jessica to leave. She clenched her jaw as an image of Jessica’s heaving back as she pounded into the blonde, flashed across her mind.

  Maybe if she could get through this night she would be okay. Repeating the thought like a mantra over and over in her head she walked to her bedroom. She made up the bed with fresh linen. All she needed to do now was sleep and wake up tomorrow morning, hopefully refreshed and ready to consider the next step in her life—without Jessica.

  ~~~~

  Chapter Two

  The wave of pain was so intense it swiftly brought her to her feet, startling the woman sitting next to her. Gabriella! Trinity combed her fingers through her hair. Her eyes darted to the door. She could be with her in seconds if she leaves now. Over the past eighteen years, it had haunted her to not be with Gabriella when she could feel the other woman’s pain so deeply.

  “Do you think it wise to go to her now?”

  Trinity's green eyes narrowed slightly as she looked down at Genevieve.

  “She is hurting and needs someone to be with her.”

  Another set of green eyes studied her somberly. “She is with someone now, Trinity, and she is happy. You told me so yourself. After eighteen years, your sudden appearance might only raise more questions and in the end cause trouble for her. I do not think you want that, my child.”

  Trinity slowly took her seat again. Genevieve was right. Gabriella has moved on with her life—without her. She had kept Gabriella a secret from everybody except Genevieve. The woman was like her mother and she surely would've felt betrayed if she hadn't told her. She looked around and couldn't help feeling like the outsider again. She was still very uneasy around the master vampires. They were in no way threatening towards her anymore, but they still kept their distance. The Clan had accepted her in their folds after the showdown with Mercredi. Although she had gone undercover and infiltrated Mercredi's guards as requested by Pierre, she still felt her acceptance was only because Genevieve and Pierre had claimed her as their daughter.

  It could be that she was simply paranoid. Maybe they did accept her, but over the past eighteen years, she'd mostly kept to herself, limiting her interactions with the others. The only other person she interacted with, excluding Pierre and Genevieve, was Inger. She wouldn't say they were close, but Trinity believed that they had enough in common to warrant a civil relationship between the two of them. Inger was going out of her way to strengthen the frail bond they had and regularly invited Trinity out with her to watch movies or to accompany her to some of her social events. Reluctantly, Trinity indulged the woman, knowing that the headstrong Inger would not desist in her resolve to become friends with her.

  “The Consortium members should be here any minute now. Would you like a coffee?” Genevieve asked as she placed a gentle hand on Trinity’s arm.

  Trinity secretly reveled in the woman’s mothering of her. It helped to keep the near paralyzing loneliness at bay—but not always.

  “I am fine, mother. I just wish that they would get here so we can get on with it. I feel a little cooped up in here,” Trinity said and squeezed Genevieve’s hand.

  Long before the police and news agencies got wind of the murders, they had already been aware of the presence of another renegade master in the city. Since joining the Royal Clan her commitment to the cause intensified. Before, it disgusted her to witness the ruthlessness with which the Royals hunted and destroyed renegades. She had to become part of the community before she’d realized the gaping difference between the Royals and the renegades. The Royals lived strictly to their Creed as protectors of the human race; their aim to co-exist, albeit on the fringes of humanity. It was not long after she began living with the Royals that she had accompanied the four master vampires to clean out a renegade nest in Nevada. What she witnessed there, made her recoil at the brutality and sheer depravity of renegades. The nest was big with a renegade leader overseeing it. Most of the renegades there were young and very inexperienced in the face of the four masters.

  It was when they came to the lair of the renegade leader, that what she witnessed strengthened Trinity’s resolve. The man had a cage in his room where he kept a group of six women with their toddlers. According to the women’s testimonies, the leader fed off the toddlers and forced the mothers to watch. S
ome of the women they freed teetered dangerously close to borderline insanity as a result of their babies crying while the monster fed on them. As she held one of the anemic babies in her arms, Trinity made a promise that night not to rest until the last renegade had been wiped off the face of the earth. Since then she’d trained harder and travelled the country joining groups of Royal slayers. Over the years the vampires in the Clan became an inspiration for her and she admired them even more for their selfless pledge to save humanity. With the current killing sprees in New York, she’d stayed closer to home. New York was the Royals’ base and a renegade killing on the Royals’ turf was sending out a clear challenge.

  Tonight they were meeting with the Consortium members in the hope that the Human Slayers had managed to identify the killer. Trinity was eager to find the butcher and deal with him. She watched the clock on the wall. The sun went down an hour ago and while they were waiting for the Consortium members, everyone was paired up.

  Tahlia and Jemima were quietly conversing as they stood at the head of the boardroom. After more than fifty years together, they were still very much in love. It was evident in the tender smiles they threw each other’s way and the subtle touching of their hands. The Vampire Queen still made her nervous, but when in the presence of Jemima, the Royal was a completely different person. Her gaze lingered on them and probably for a few moments too long, because she quickly looked away when a pair of black eyes rose to meet her gaze.

  Trinity’s gaze moved on to where Paloma rested her hip on the plush sofa, reading something over Inger's shoulder. At the age of thirty-eight, Inger had grown into an even more beautiful woman. What added to her appeal was the fact that she was a tough-as-nails divorce attorney and reputed to be one of the most powerful women in the field of justice. When it comes to her work she was almost ruthless in ensuring that her client came out victorious, but she had been known to turn down high profile cases which she felt might put too much of her private life in the spotlight. She had never made a secret about her sexuality. She was openly gay, but guarded her private life jealously—for obvious reasons. Paloma on the other hand doted on her lover, hand and foot. They still continued their habit of slipping into the garden at Marsden Mansion when they thought no one was looking.

  Since their reunion Pierre and Genevieve rarely went out. But when they were in public together, they always sat together, chatting softly with their heads bowed closely, or simply sitting in silence looking deep into each other’s eyes. Jonas had his Joan, who after eighteen years looked more like his grandmother than his lover, but they too were still very much in love. She was the only one who had nobody. Most times she felt like a castaway. For a short while, years ago, it was different.

  She was trailing a group of young renegades—fledglings. They were the most brutal of their kind, led by their uncontrollable bloodlust and false sense of invincibility. She followed them into Brooklyn, to a popular nightclub. This was one of the most exciting parts of the hunting experience. Renegades were so predictable. She knew their moves before they even made them.

  They would enter the nightclub and using their mental persuasive powers, girls would flock around them, giving the fledglings ample time to choose their victims. Once they had made a ‘pick-up’ as they referred to their victims, they would lure them out and away from the nightclub. Then the mass killing commences. They would repeat this action two or three more times during the night until it wasn't their bloodlust dictating to them anymore, but the thrill of the kill. On one such night she was waiting for them outside when she'd suddenly felt a strong vaguely familiar presence nearby.

  Before she could investigate, the six renegades exited the nightclub. Each had two girls on their arm and Trinity cringed as she thought of what was in store for the twelve women. With one final look in the direction where the familiar surge had come, Trinity quickly made her choice. Twelve lives were at stake and she could investigate that presence later. She followed them to a deserted warehouse and destroyed them all.

  Afterwards, still bloody from her fight, she’d rushed over to the location she'd felt the strong presence earlier. Her heart tightened at the sight of the lifeless body of the girl, her eyes open wide in abject horror. Trinity recognized her from the pictures she'd seen in Gabriella's room and on her computer. Luisa was Gaby's best friend and the closest thing she had to a sister. She carefully scanned the area for clues, but found none, except for the lingering evil that hung in the air. The sound of a siren nearby made her duck into the shadows and with a heavy heart she leaned against the cold rough wall of a nearby shop. How was she going to break the news to Gaby? There were still a few hours left before dawn and she contemplated going to see her. In the end she realized that three hours might not be enough to console Gabriella.

  The next evening she found out that no amount of time would ever be enough to console Gaby. When she appeared in the teenager’s bedroom, she found Gaby lying on her bed, deep sobs shaking her slight frame. Her own heart breaking at her ward’s pain, Trinity had lain beside the girl and pulled her into a tight embrace. Accustomed to pain and loss, Trinity had no words of comfort to offer the mourning girl except offering her loving presence. They had stayed like that for a long while before Gabriella had pushed out of the embrace. The beautiful face was wet and swollen from all the crying.

  “It was a vampire, wasn't it?” Gabriella’s extraordinary amber eyes held so much hatred that it stunned Trinity into silence for a while.

  “Yes. I tried to look for clues but he was very clever. I found nothing.”

  The girl’s eyes held hers, the hatred still present.

  “You are a vampire too. You are one of them.”

  Unease slithered over her at the tone of Gabriella's voice and she sat up slowly.

  “What are you saying, Gaby?”

  This time the amber gaze broke contact and the girl turned her back on Trinity.

  “I hate vampires…all vampires.”

  Trinity had placed her hand on Gaby's shoulder only to have the girl shrug it off. There was something happening here that Trinity wasn't sure she liked.

  “Not all vampires are bad, my angel. One day you will meet my mother and my clan. They are good people,” she said softly as she studied the girl’s rigid posture.

  “I will hate them, because they are all vampires. You are all responsible for Luisa's death. If vampires hadn't existed Luisa would still be alive,” Gabriella said with disturbing detachment in her voice.

  Trinity had slowly, but firmly turned Gabriella over so she could see the girl’s face. The young face was pale and the amber eyes were hard.

  “How can you say that? If all vampires are bad then where does that leave me?”

  Gabriella looked away. “You are a vampire too, aren't you?” she had whispered and this time her eyes held intense loathing when they met Trinity’s green ones. “I want you to go and never come back again.”

  Trinity was paralyzed with fear and pain at hearing those words, but still she tried.

  “Please, do not do this, baby. I understand your anger and sadness, but do not send me away like this? I will leave for now so you can have time to mourn and then I will come tomorrow evening to check up on you.”

  The ink-black locks swung around her beautiful face as Gabriella shook her head.

  “No. I don't want to see you again.” Gabriella swung her feet off the bed and walked over to the window. Her back was stiff with determination. “If you really love me, you will do as I ask and leave. Don't come back either.”

  Slowly, Trinity rose from the bed and walked over to where Gaby stood. She had placed her arms around her from behind and held her tight for a few agonizing seconds and gently kissed her crown. “I love you.” And then she'd left, never to return again.

  Over the years she had watched over Gabriella from afar. She had watched her, as she grew from strength to strength as she became Dr. Gabriella Talos, celebrity sex expert and the darling of New York’s social scene.
It had hurt almost as much as the day Gabriella sent her away, when the news broke of Gabriella’s relationship with the infamous fashion photographer. In her dreams she’d always thought it would be her that Gabriella came home to instead of the photographer. Still she kept a silent sentinel over Gabriella and every time her heart chipped when she saw her with her lover. They were the epitome of a happy, successful couple. As long as the photographer made Gabriella happy, Trinity was willing to turn a blind eye to the woman's little affairs. The boardroom door opened and snapped her back to reality. Michael and Joan stepped in. Joan immediately went to Jonas' side and he tenderly lifted her face for a kiss.

  “We apologize for being late. The research took longer than we thought. Our Euro-branch supplied us with valuable information.” Michael reached across the shiny table and pushed a stack of ledgers into the center of the table. “They confirmed what the captured Servants of Redemption fellow gave us as well as a whole lot more.”

  They each of them took one. Opening her file, Trinity gasped. The picture was very old, but she would recognize that face anywhere. It still haunted her dreams.

  “Trinity?” Tahlia inquired.

  Trinity kept staring at the grainy black and white picture. “I know him,” she said finally and looked up to find every one looking at her.

  Michael cleared his throat softly and flipped through his ledger. “His name is Lord Tristan Vermont, the fourth Marquise of Cleaver, born to Lord Giles Vermont and Lady Bertha Vermont on 23 March 1580 in London. He was very well educated, having been sent to Oxford, in the hope that upon his father’s death, he would inherit his father's title as well as his seat in the House of Lords.” Michael reached for a glass of water and took a sip. “Young Vermont had other plans though. He craved power, absolute power, and having to rely on his father's money, infuriated him. To the chagrin of his father, Tristan preferred hopping from the bed of one beautiful woman to another, sipping expensive brandy, and gambling his monthly stipend away. Disillusioned by his son's lack of ambition, the Marquis sent his son to his friend and confidant,” he looked up and grimaced, “Columbus Mercredi. Columbus had a son of roughly the same age who was a successful and respected business man. The Marquis had hoped the young Italian nobleman would inspire his son to take an active interest in his own life and hopefully change for the better.”