Guardian's Hope

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  Chapter 2

  Hope paced the sidewalk across the street from Bloodsucker’s for a half hour before she gathered enough nerve to enter. Seeing the people wandering in and out of the place had shaken her more than the building itself. Pale faces, elaborate make-up and black leather seemed to be the fashion choice. Men dressed in tuxedoes with black capes swirling around them escorted women in slinky black dresses with spidery hems and flowing sleeves. Other men were dressed in black leather trousers with silky black shirts open to their waist or vests studded with metal and looped with chains matching the jewelry that studded their bodies. She saw a woman wearing leather straps and little else, the straps barely covering her most private parts. The woman strode down the sidewalk in heels that had to be six inches high. It amazed her that most of the women in their skimpy clothing weren’t wearing coats, preferring to freeze on this January night rather than cover their costumes and body art.

  Her wool coat, calf-length skirt, and bulky knit sweater looked as out of place here as any of these people would look in her father’s church. Even if she purchased a whole new wardrobe of modern, worldly women’s wear, she would still look out of place at Bloodsucker’s. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Out of place or not, this was the next place on her list and enter it she would.

  When the state outlawed cigarette smoking in restaurants and bars, the owners of Bloodsuckers compensated by burning copious amounts of incense. Their purpose was twofold. The burning incense created the same pre-ban dim and smoke filled atmosphere and the mix of spicy scents covered the smell produced by those surreptitiously smoking substances other than tobacco.

  She wrinkled her nose at the acrid mix of smells and the smoky haze made her eyes tear. She stood in the doorway for a moment until her eyes stopped watering and her nose adjusted.

  Compared to the few other places she’d been on her nightly visits, this place was the creepiest. At least it was medium sized and all on one floor. Booths and tables ringed the crowded dance floor where bodies writhed under flashing lights that seemed to stop motion. The music, which wasn’t music to Hope’s ears, throbbed and pounded. A bar ran along one wall and she searched the line of stools for a vacancy. According to Lenny, bartenders remembered faces.

  Heads turned as she moved toward the back. She felt her cheeks redden and kept her eyes cast down. She was halfway along when a man left his seat at the bar to sit with a party at a table and Hope slipped into his place before anyone could object. The man to her left turned his head and smiled. He had fangs! She stole a quick look around the room. Good Gracious, almost everyone had fangs. Some were obviously plastic, but some looked very real.

  “Never been to a Vamp bar before, huh?” the man asked.

  “No. I can’t say that I have.” Something in the man’s look made her nervous.

  “Why don’t I show you around?”

  “I think I can see it all from here. Thank you.” She turned away and looked for the bartender who was taking his time polishing the other end of the bar. When he finally reached her, he stared at her without greeting.

  “Uh, I’ll have a coffee, please.” Hope spoke hesitantly. The bartenders at the other places had all been polite.

  “This is a bar, lady. If you want a cup of coffee, there’s a diner up the street.” He continued to stare.

  “Um, well, no tea either I suppose?”

  “Iced tea.”

  “Oh, that would be fine.”

  The bartender nodded and walked away. She had the picture ready and shoved it across the bar when he returned.

  “I’m looking for this woman. Have you seen her?”

  The bartender’s eyes never left her face. “No.”

  “Please,” Hope begged. “I need to find her. This picture’s a few years old. She’s probably changed a lot since it was taken, but if you’ll just look, you might recognize her.” She sipped her tea and waited.

  The bartender’s eyes dropped to the picture and something flashed across his face but it was gone before she was sure it was there. He looked up with the same blank stare. “No.”

  “I need two apple martinis, a margarita rocks and a house white. Whatcha got there, honey?” A waitress standing behind her reached over to pass her empty tray to the bartender and picked up the picture. “You looking for her?” the woman asked and when Hope nodded, “She doesn’t look like she belongs here, does she? ‘Course you don’t either so you never know, do you? You gonna be here for a while? I could ask the other girls.” She looked up at the glaring bartender and curled her lip. “Don’t get your shorts in a twist. I won’t bug the customers and I won’t stop the girls from doing the job. You got those drinks yet? ‘Cause I’m waiting here.” She looked back at Hope and smiled. “Can you wait? Won’t do to piss off Prince Charming there. It may take a while.”

  “Yes. I can wait as long as you need me to.”

  When the bartender returned with the tray of drinks, the waitress curled her lip again. “Get her another tea and don’t be givin’ her a hard time,” and in an aside to Hope, “As long as you keep ordering, he can’t throw you out.”

  The tea was tasty, darker and more flavorful than the tea they made at home. She liked it. Mindful of the waitress’ warning, when the second glass was empty, she ordered a third.

  “What kind of tea is this?” she asked when the bartender brought her the refill.

  He looked at her as if she was stupid. “Long Island,” he said and walked away.

  By the time she finished the third glass, she needed to visit the ladies room. She slid from the stool, lost her balance and landed in the arms of a black caped, pale faced vampire.

  “Ah, the lady wants to dance,” he cried and pulled her out onto the floor.

  She tried to push away from him and had them both lurching into another couple. She tried to right herself but her balance was off. Her legs wouldn’t move in the direction she sent them. The room began to spin. Someone grabbed her and just as quickly pushed her away. Everyone was laughing and she couldn’t catch her breath. Hands were touching her everywhere and she started to cry.

  *****

  Nico was not happy. Playing search and rescue for a couple of fledglings that didn’t know enough to come home was not his idea of a night off. He normally enjoyed a night out and bars or lounges were open in the middle of the night when most other forms of entertainment were closed. However, his idea of a relaxing evening was the polar opposite of the twins. He’d checked their normal hangouts starting with the two rock venues and moving on to two country western bars complete with mechanical bulls. The heavy metal place had made him snarl and while he easily understood the words of the rappers at the next place, he didn’t understand its meaning and didn’t really care. Bloodsucker’s was in a class by itself.

  There was probably a vampire bar in every major city in the world and like this one, a few smaller cities as well. Humans found vampires fascinating and some carried that fascination to extremes. For most, it was play acting, but for some it was more. They drank real blood or sharpened their teeth to unattractive points. They thought the life glamorous. Reality was different.

  There were few real vampires in the world and they suffered for their curse. Most of the Paenitentia who turned vampire were killed outright, usually by close friends or family. Those allowed to live were kept locked away in attics or basements, becoming more insane with their thirst until they died of accelerated aging. Some escaped and from their few short years of terror and bloodlust came the legends. Otto was the only one he’d heard of who had beaten the odds and that was because of Grace.

  Some Paenitentia, especially the younger, enjoyed a night or two at these vampire wannabe hangouts. In a place like Bloodsucker’s, a member of the Race didn’t have to worry about keeping their fangs in check. He didn’t think Col or Dov would be interested in a place like this, but they’d never stayed out for three days either. It would only take a few minutes to check and it shouldn’t be ha
rd to spot two matching blonde goliaths.

  The place was a madhouse. Nico squinted his eyes against the strobes flashing over the dance floor. Two blew out a second apart. A pitcher of beer flew across the room. He wanted no part of this. Looking over the heads of the crowd, he saw no sign of the twins and was turning to leave when he saw her. She was crying and floundering in the sea of dancers while they laughingly pushed her from one to another. He knew immediately by her dress she didn’t belong here. The crowd was being vicious and cruel, but this was human business and therefore none of his. He turned toward the door and just as quickly turned back again as another anguished cry rose from the crowd.

  With an annoyed huff and shake of his head, Nico strode to the center of the crowd and shoved aside the nearest offenders, sending them careening into the tables behind them. He lifted the woman into his arms, one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees. His fangs flared and he hissed a warning at the man nearest him who staggered back, arms outstretched.

  “Whoa, man, we were just having a little fun.”

  Nico bent until they were nose to nose. “Maybe I’ll come back and you can have a little fun with me.” He smiled when the would-be vampire blanched and sweat broke out on his brow.

  As he reached the door with the woman still in his arms, a waitress ran up to him and held out a coat and a shoe.

  “They’re hers. I couldn’t find her purse.” She held the door for them and winked as he passed through. “And honey, you can come back and rescue me any time. Name’s Nora.”

  Nico nodded his thanks. Once outside, he set the woman down and propped her against the wall of the building. She kept shaking her head as if trying to clear it and swayed dangerously when she tried to stand on her own. He helped her into her coat and she leaned against him covering her eyes with her hand. The pins that held her hair coiled at the base of her neck had come loose and the knot of dark red hung askew.

  “It’s all right,” he whispered while he rubbed her back. “You’re with me now and no harm will come to you. I promise.” He held her away from him while he reached for the handkerchief he kept in his pocket. She used it to wipe her eyes, then brought it to her nose but changed her mind and handed it back.

  He refused it. “Go ahead and blow. It’ll wash,” and after she had, “Come, I’ll take you home.”

  She held out her hand to stop him. “I can walk,” she said and took a step, staggered, and went to one knee.

  “No,” he chuckled, “I don’t think you can.” He scooped her back into his arms.

  “You can’t carry me. I’m too heavy.” She slapped her hand ineffectually.

  “I can and you aren’t. My car is just around the corner. Tell me where you live and I’ll see you home.” She moved her head to his shoulder. “What’s your name?”

  “Hope,” she said and smiled sadly. “Hope you don’t grow any bigger. Hope you can find a man bigger than you are. Hope he’s rich so he can feed you. Hope you don’t turn out like your mother. Hope, Hope, Hope. That’s me, Hope against Hope.” He thought she might start crying again, but she giggled. “Hope they all go to you-know-where. I should put a quarter in the potty mouth jar for that, but I won’t. I’m feeling rebellious.” She giggled again. “Everything is spinning, spinning, spinning. I must be sick.”

  Something hard knotted in his stomach and his grip tightened as he held her closer to his chest. Who said those things to her or are they things she said to herself? It wasn’t his concern. “Close your eyes and see if the spinning stops. You’re not sick. You’re drunk.”

  “I’m not drunk. I can’t be drunk. I don’t drink.” She pointed a wavering finger at him. “Lips that touch wine will never touch mine.” Her head fell back and she looked up at him. “My lips have never touched wine. Have yours?”

  “I’m afraid they have.”

  “That’s too bad. You have very nice lips.” Her eyes widened. “Did I say that out loud?”

  Nico laughed. “Yes, but I choose to ignore it. You won’t remember it tomorrow anyway.” He set her on her feet while he unlocked and opened the door, then settled her into the seat and buckled the belt. “Tell me where you live.”

  He watched her from the corner of his eye as he made the short drive to her house. Her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back against the seat. She was smiling, a far away, dreamy kind of smile. She was younger than he first thought. It was the clothes that disguised her age. Her skin was the color and texture of cream, her lashes dark against the flush of her cheeks. He wondered what her hair would be like uncoiled and free of the pins.

  “You’re home,” he said gently when he turned off the car. “Come on; let’s get you into the house.”

  When they reached the door, her hand slid into the neck of her sweater and emerged with a key dangling on the end of a shoelace. He laughed and shook his head at her school girl security measure.

  The house was in need of a paint job but the inside was neat as the proverbial pin. He settled her in a comfortable chair and turned on a lamp across the room where a phonebook was open to the yellow section and under Bars & Grills. All those up to Bloodsuckers were crossed out with pen.

  “Thank you,” Hope said, her voice still slurred. “You’ve been so kind and I don’t even know your name.” She brought her fingers to her temples. “I’ve never felt like this before.”“The name’s Nico and you’ve never felt like this before because you’ve never been drunk before.”

  Hope pouted in concentration and shook her head in denial. “I told you, I don’t drink. I’ve never tasted alcohol in any form. Father wouldn’t allow it. All I drank in that awful place was iced tea; plain old Long Island iced tea. So there.” Her head bobbed to emphasize her point.

  Nico threw back his head and laughed. “How many of those plain old iced teas did you drink?”

  She frowned. “Two, three, four? No. Three. I think.”

  He shook his head at her innocence and still laughing, ticked off the list, “Vodka, rum, tequila, gin, triple sec and cola with a dash of lemon. Long Island Iced Tea is a mixed drink. You practically ran the bar with your first sip. Where do you keep your aspirin? You’re going to need it in the morning.”

  “Oh no,” she said, laughing. “I’ve already sinned enough for one night; drinking liquor, consorting with sinners, bringing home a gorgeous stranger… oops, I didn’t mean to say that, well, the stranger part was okay, but not the gorgeous part. That would be forward and while I may be a lot of things, I’m a respectable young woman. So to answer your question…” She cocked her head to the side as if considering, then looked up at him and giggled. “I forgot the question.”

  “Aspirin?”

  “Aspirin? Oh yes! I mean no, I can’t have you going in my bedroom to get aspirin from the nightstand. There’s been enough bad behavior on my part already.”

  He smiled to reassure her. “I don’t think any of this was your fault. That has to count for something. You…”

  She stood abruptly, her face alarmed. Her hand went to her mouth and her stomach heaved.

  “Shit.” He scooped her up. “Bathroom?” She pointed up the stairs.

  They made it just in time. He held her hair and rubbed her back and when it was over, he washed her face with the washcloth by the sink. Her skin was as soft as it looked. The sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose drew attention to her eyes, a rich almost emerald green. It was a beautiful face, fresh and clean. He sat her on the low stool in the corner and removed the pins from her hair. It fell to her waist in soft waves of russet red. She tilted her head back and sighed with pleasure when he ran the brush through to remove the tangles. When he fixed the toothbrush, she obediently used it while he went to turn down her bed. A white flannel nightgown hung from the bedpost and he had a momentary vision of what a man might find beneath its voluminous folds, but he thought it would upset her if he tried to dress her for bed, so he only removed her shoe and tucked her in fully clothed.

 
She hadn’t said a word since their flight up the stairs. Now, she looked up at him with those big green eyes and asked, “Am I still drunk?”

  He chuckled softly. “Yes, you probably are.”

  “Will I remember you in the morning?”

  His smile died. “No, you probably won’t.”

  “That’s too bad,” she said sadly. Her chest heaved in a long sigh and she closed her eyes.

  “Yes, it is,” he whispered as he pressed his thumb into her forehead just above the bridge of her nose and sent the wave of energy into her mind that would make her forget they’d ever met.

  Chapter 3

  “Hey Nardo, you ever get anything on that house where Col was attacked?” Canaan stood in the doorway and surveyed the bank of computer screens along one wall and the boxes of equipment piled against the other. “Bet you’ll be glad to move to the Back Room once the renovation’s finished.” The Back Room referred to their current den. Once the new gym was complete, the den would be moved to the current gym which really was the back room of the house. Nardo could then move his computers and surveillance equipment into the larger quarters.

  “Yeah, gets a little claustrophobic in here.” He tapped some keys and the screen changed. “The house was owned by guy named Leonard W. Abramowitz. I screened him. Had a few run-ins with the law in the long ago. Nothing major and nothing at all in the last fifteen years. Seems old Leonard earned his living off a website, The Naughty Nighty, selling sex toys and other items for your sensual delight. Seemed pretty lucrative.”

  “You’re speaking in past tense and how do you know it’s lucrative?”

  “No flies on you, my lord.” Nardo grinned. “I speak in past tense in reference to the dearly departed. Leonard W. Abramowitz, age 76, died on December 2nd. I back checked with the coroner’s office. Cause of death: heart failure, but get this, the body was found in a vacant lot and was badly mauled by… are you ready for it? Possibly dogs.”