A Guardian's Love Read online

  “She doesn’t look like she has anything of value on her, George. Maybe we should just let her go?”

  Silver eyes turned to the young man who had just spoken, touching his mind lightly. He was reluctant to partake in what his leader had in mind. Maybe she would save him. The man known as George snorted and slowly began to circle her. His eyes took in her dusty appearance and he grimaced.

  “A woman always has something of value on her, Pete, even one that looks like this hag.” He reached out and pulled off the hood of the cloak. Paloma had kept her head lowered all the time, but with the hood gone, she lifted her head and straightened her hunched figure as she turned blood red eyes on George. She saw him stumbling back as she towered over him.

  “What the hell…”

  Grabbing him closer so that their noses almost touched, she stared into his eyes until she felt the wet splatter at his feet. Satisfied that she had scared him adequately she dragged him closer and sunk her fangs into his neck. Just as she thought, the blood was filled with adrenaline. She greedily drank from him, feeling her parched organs expand at the nourishment. After a few moments, she flung him away and tossed her head back, humming as the thick red liquid splashed down her throat. She became aware of the sound of anxious heartbeats and turned her eyes on the other three men who stared at her.

  “Be gone before I change my mind.” They didn’t wait as they fell over themselves in their haste to get away. With them out of sight, she walked over to where George lay, still dazed. “You are a bad influence on your friends and a danger to society.” She dragged him up toward her again. She was still hungry but had been scared to drink too much from him the first time, killing him in the process. This time she planned to take a little more—maybe every drop.

  She was just about to sink her fangs in his neck again when she heard it. It sounded like a heartbeat, but it was very shallow. With a narrowed gaze, she lifted her face and sniffed the air. There was no one close by, but still the thumping didn’t let up. George struggled weakly in her grasp and blocking out the sound, she turned her attention back to the whimpering man. Looking down at the weakly pulsing vein in George’s neck, she felt her fangs lengthening. She was still hungry, but the incessant thumping was very distracting. Even as spittle seeped through her cracked lips as the delightful smell of George’s warm blood wafted up to her nose, she became aware of the strong pull of the distant heartbeat, too. After a few seconds of deliberation, she tossed George from her and melted into the shadows, her hunger overshadowed by the urge to find the source of the incessant thudding. She followed the sound that called out to her through the darkness. Like a siren’s call of old, it beckoned her into the unknown.

  The park was dark, and, cloaking her presence, she glided between the lush green trees until she came to stand under a big old tree and looked up. A tightly bound bundle nestled amongst the branches. She reached out to pull it free, but before she could make contact, two big liquid pools of blue stared at her. It was a child—a girl of about fifteen months. She was stunned at her inability to have been able to decipher the scent. Another shock was the fact that the child could see her. As an ancient, not many could detect her presence when cloaked, especially not if she didn’t want to be seen.

  Unnerved by the fact that the child could penetrate her invisible shield, she touched the toddler’s mind. Who was this child? She jerked back violently, her stomach churning when she felt the power emanating from the little one’s mind. The child was a powerful psychic, but that wasn’t all. She also felt the presence of a master vampire in the child’s mind. A powerful and dangerous presence had left its mark on the child. The message was loud and clear. Whoever marked this child would kill to protect it.

  Not wanting to get involved without knowing whom she was taking on, Paloma took a step back, but she wasn’t quick enough. A chubby little hand reached out and grabbed a strand of her brittle hair. Almost immediately, the baby’s gurgling pierced the night. Stunned, the vampire reached out slowly and touched the baby’s rosy cheek. It had been crying—possibly in its sleep, because she hadn’t heard anything while she was stalking it.

  Her body tensed, her skin thickened. The night had an unexpected evil feel to it. She hastily loosened the baby’s grip on her hair before stepping back into the shadows. Someone was coming. A streak of mist floated from between the trees and solidified into a human form. Sniffing the air sharply, the other vampire looked up and reached out to grab the bundle. An abrupt hissing sound followed by a sharp cry and the acrid smell of burned flesh filled the air. The vampire pulled away from the child, growling angrily.

  The silver eyes narrowed. If Paloma could touch the baby without it scorching her, it meant only one thing. The child was under the protection of a Clan Royal. This other vampire wasn’t a Clan Royal, probably a rogue. Her sense of duty made her step out of the shadows, dropping her invisibility cloak.

  “When have you become so perverted that you are now preying on babies?”

  Shocked by the intrusion, the other vampire swung around. Paloma grimaced when she recognized Gillian. Gillian’s eyes, glowing red in the dim light of the nearby lamppost, widened when she recognized the steely silver eyes that peered at her from out of the black cape.

  Seven centuries ago, she thoughtlessly engaged in a fling with Gillian. The only thing she regretted was that she had trusted her, only to find that Gillian had disclosed the location of her lair to a group of amateur vampire slayers armed with pitchforks, holy water, and wooden crosses. With Paloma out of the way, Gillian thought she could move in to become Tahlia’s closest confidant and hopefully the Queen’s consort. When she woke up surrounded by a gang of vampire slayers baying for her blood, she was not amused to say the least. Paloma had since searched the globe for Gillian, but the woman had managed to evade her every time. Tonight, however, she would not stand a chance.

  “Paloma, what brings you here?” Gillian carefully took another step back.

  “We still have unfinished business, you and I.” Lifting her hand Paloma pushed down her cloak and the moonlight gleamed on her blonde head. “Now is as good a time as any to finish what we started so long ago.”

  Paloma could now sense Gillian’s fear. Gillian held up her hand and smiled weakly, making Paloma frown. What did Gillian hope to barter with this time?

  “I have a business proposition for you, Paloma. It will make you more powerful than you already are.” Gillian’s voice had a desperate edge to it.

  A harsh sound that resembled a laugh escaped Paloma’s lips. “What makes you think I want to side with a traitor like you? You of all people should know that what you have done is tantamount to a death sentence. You will have to be destroyed, and I will do whatever it takes to protect the laws and honor of our Race.” She cast a quick glance at the hidden baby who looked at them with big blue eyes. “Your intention toward that baby was not noble. I could sense your hatred. You were going to kill it just to send a message to whoever you are running from.”

  Paloma’s hands transformed into claws as she took a threatening step forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Rising to the challenge, Gillian went for her sword and took on a battle stance. “We do not have to do this, Paloma. It is obvious that you have just surfaced and are weak. I will cut you down before you have even laid a finger on me.”

  The master vampire nodded. “I cannot wait to see you try.”

  A deep red glow flared to life in the silver eyes. Using preternatural speed, Paloma dived at Gillian, catching her off guard. Gillian screamed in anger when Paloma’s claws raked over her face. Paloma watched as Gillian reached out to determine the damage. The rogue vampire hissed when she encountered deep bloody welts. Gillian’s hand tightened around the hilt of her sword, and, with an ear-piercing screech, she attacked.

  Paloma sucked in her breath when the blade sliced through her upper arm and she swiftly side-stepped another downward cut. The power Gillian put behind the thrust had thrown her of
f-balance, leaving her back open for an attack. Seizing the opportunity, Paloma raked her claws down Gillian’s back, slicing through flesh and bone. Satisfied, Paloma pulled away. Her claws glistened with blood.

  The wounds were deep and Gillian was fast losing a lot of blood. It was evident from her sluggish moves that the loss of blood was affecting Gillian. A thrill ran down her spine and Paloma turned around sharply. A powerful presence was nearby! Their fighting had pushed them further and further from the tree and probing the darkness, she felt sharp eyes resting on her.

 

  The warning rang through her mind and she turned, just in time to ward off a cut down by Gillian. She was mildly surprised that Gillian was still able to fight. Perhaps she had underestimated her. At the age of nine hundred Gillian wasn’t a youngster and she was a respected fighter who trained under Tahlia. When her obsessive interest in Tahlia became obvious, there was no choice but to replace her.

  “If you think I will make it easier for you, you must think again. I might not be as powerful as you, but I have trained hard over the centuries.” Gillian speech was slurred and Paloma knew that it would not be long before the rogue vampire was completely incapacitated.

  Tired of the fight and eager to determine the identity of the mysterious master vampire, Paloma reached out fast, grabbing a stunned Gillian by the throat and pushed her claws into Gillian's chest. They curled around Gillian’s pulsing heart. Gillian stopped struggling; her eyes were wide with fear. Paloma thought of making it quick, but stopped. The world would be a better place without Gillian, but for someone who’d awakened after a 500-year long slumber, Gillian was a walking encyclopedia.

  “First I want to see what you were up to in my absence.” Her fangs sunk into Gillian's neck and she drank deeply. A few minutes later, she pushed Gillian away from her but tightened her claws around the now slow beating organ. When Gillian fell to the ground, Paloma stared at her claws that now clutched Gillian’s severed heart. The organ stuttered for a few more beats before it stilled. Visualizing a flame, she charred Gillian’s body and tossed her heart into the fiery blaze. Strange, but the world already felt like a better place without Gillian. Her thick ancient blood had done what George’s couldn’t. She felt revived again. Her great power surged to the surface and she flexed her shoulders.

  Looking into the flames, she processed the information she’d got from Gillian. Tahlia was here in New York, living with her lover who was now a vampire. Chances are the mystery master vampire could be any of the three Royals, probably even Tahlia herself. She was relieved to know that her search wouldn’t take so long after all. There were still many other bits and pieces to work through from what she’d gleaned from Gillian, and she would make time for it later. Now, she needed to get back to the baby and take her to a safe place.

  She walked over to the tree, but the closer she came to the tree the more worried she became. She didn’t hear the heartbeat any more, an indication that the baby was gone. Whoever took the baby must’ve shrouded her presence. She walked around the tree, touching the tree bark to see if she could pick up a scent.

  After a few minutes, she stepped back. Nothing. The vampire was very careful not to leave any leads. She looked up toward the moon. She needed to look for a temporary lair before the sun came up. She would have to lay low for a while before she sought out Tahlia. It might take a while to convince her that she was indeed still loyal to the Race and had not strayed in the 500 years of her absence.

  Chapter 2

  19 Years Later…

  The nightclub was bursting, just the way she liked it. Dressed in tight leather pants that hugged her long legs and a white silk shirt that hung loose, Inger knew she fit in well with the crowd. She could probably pass for one of the artsy types.

  Over the past five years, renegades had infiltrated the arts and entertainment scene where no one frowned upon their odd and erratic behavior. The more eccentric you appeared the more revered you became. It wasn’t uncommon to find celebrities living a reclusive lifestyle, but over these past years, the number had grown exponentially. Celebrities and socialites were rarely seen out during daytime anymore. To accommodate these wealthy social hermits, shop owners began keeping similar irregular hours. With shops open until whatever hours of the night and morning, more people came out of their homes after dark creating an abundant food source for renegades.

  Inger’s eyes scanned the interior of the dimly lit nightclub and she grimaced. She couldn’t see any renegades, but she knew they were here; she could sense them. She wondered what the patrons’ reaction would be to the presence of these predators in their midst.

  She signaled the bartender and placed her order. She was still on duty so a seltzer would have to do. The bartender left to fix her drink, and she took the time to scan her immediate surroundings in the mirror over the bar.

  Bingo!

  A few feet away a group of five young men stood, looking out over the dance floor. They seemed like a bunch of frat boys on the prowl, except there was a tell-tale space between the second guy and the fourth. She swung around in her chair, leaning her elbows on the bar and grinned. Yep, number three was indeed there. She stared at his back long and hard. It was obvious he was a newbie; otherwise, he’d have known that renegades cast no reflection in mirrors nor would he have placed himself so close to one. She’d keep her eye on him, waiting for him to move away from the group. Then she would strike.

  Soon after her first kill, Inger stopped seeing renegades as humans. One of the slayers she paired with had stamped that idea out of her mind. He made her see that the humans they killed were simply empty replicas of what they once were. But that still didn’t make it easy to destroy them. The renegades recruited many more youngsters and she sensed a few newbies on campus, where she was pursuing a law degree. Usually, she waited until it was dark, then roamed the darkest alleys of the campus, letting them find her. Inger smiled. Her mother would freak if she found out she was using this particular tactic. Her training taught her to ambush and always knowing where her enemy was instead of having them stumble upon her.

  Inger was just about to take a sip from her drink, when she felt the hair at the back of her neck rise. It was here. She could feel its presence strongly. Since she started working for the Human Vampire Slayers Consortium four years ago, she had felt this…thing trailing her. What worried her most: its very powerful aura. So powerful, in fact, that its very presence overloaded her psychic abilities. The only others she knew who could do that to her was her mothers and her two uncles. When she was old enough and her powers had developed fully, she had confronted her grandfather about the power that her two mothers and uncles transmitted. Instead of answering, he had looked around the room. The next thing she knew Tahlia and Jemima appeared in the room with them. That night was the beginning of a new life for Inger. A life where vampires lurked in the dark and drained corpses, turned up in dark and narrow alleys across the city.

  For weeks, she had walked around with the awful truth about her family: vampire mothers—dangerous, nighttime creatures who preyed on humans for their survival. Scared that if anyone at school found out about it, they would ostracize and ridiculed her. Inger kept the truth hidden behind a surly façade throughout high school and never spoke about it with anyone. That was until she met Rita MacLauchlan. There was an instant attraction and soon afterwards, they’d started dating. She had long suspected she was attracted to women, but had dated many boys—her beauty drew men to her like bees to honey. Inger, however, kept her true sexual preference from her family.

  She and Rita had been dating for about three months when Rita took her to work one day. It was there at the Human Vampire Slayers Consortium offices that Inger had an epiphany. Not only did she discover that her parents were “the good guys,” but she decided she was going to work with them—or rather for them. It took the intervention of her grandparents to sway her mothers into allowing her to train as a slayer. Tahlia and Jemima gave in, but there
was a condition. She was never, ever to get herself bitten or killed. For the past four years, she’d managed just that. It wasn’t a difficult promise to keep, nor was it overly easy. Renegades were not very skilled fighters. Their approaches were usually predictable and impetuous. Her rigorous training under the tutelage of the Royal Vampires made her more deadly to them than the other way around.

  Then, about three years ago, she became aware that someone was stalking her. It wasn’t intrusive in any way, but it unsettled her that there was someone or something on her tail that she couldn’t see.

  She never breathed a word about this to her mothers, knowing they would immediately pull her from her duties. In turn, she made sure that she never left her guard down when she went hunting. After a while, one thing became obvious, there were menacing vibes coming from her stalker, but none directed at her. In a way, she had become accustomed to having it around her every night. It felt as if she had backup with her all the time. Inger took a sip from her drink, then turned to face the packed dance floor, scanning the crowd. What would her stalker look like? It must be a vampire—that she was sure of, but why would a vampire be stalking her. A vampire who had no ill intentions toward her?

  A cute blonde girl with a pixie haircut caught her eye and Inger smiled. The girl smiled back at her and beckoned her over with a crooked finger. Taking a long sip from her drink, Inger strolled over to where the girl stood. Close-up she was even more beautiful. Dressed in a soft, flowing white dress, the girl started swaying her hips slowly, rubbing her pint-sized frame against Inger’s taller one. Pulling her closer, Inger smiled appreciatively when she felt the perky breasts against her chest.

  She was no stranger to one-night stands. Since breaking up with Rita three years ago, she had decided to stick to no-strings attached sexual encounters. After mutually satisfying sex, they each went their separate ways and a month or two would pass before she went in search of another sex partner. Of late, however, some nights after her sex partner had left she would linger in the hotel room. She often wondered what it would be like to go home with someone after class instead of picking up strangers for sex. Someone she could spoon while talking about their respective days.