Guardian's Hope

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  Broadbent looked at Nardo in surprise. “And all this time I didn’t think you could figure out anything without one of one those infernal machines. That’s a capital resolution to my conundrum.”

  Nardo laughed and tapped his head. “Data in, data out.” He tossed his cup into the same can that received the lid. “Two points. Come on, break time’s over. We better get back to walking the beat.”

  The area they were patrolling was mostly residential with three or four floors of apartments sitting above small, daytime businesses like dry cleaners and hair salons that served the local community. Scattered throughout, were corner bodegas, diners and newsstands that were open all night and the occasional quiet bar serving the locals, but unknown outside the neighborhood. For the most part it was peaceful and relatively safe and that made it a target for smarter demons that saw the advantage of hunting in an area where people weren’t afraid of walking home in the middle of the night. Even the homeless here were well fed and non-threatening. Some attacks went unnoticed for weeks. It was still the city, after all, and no one knew all of their neighbors and people were always moving in and out. Occasionally, there would be a ‘tragedy’ and people would become temporarily cautious, but after a while, the fear would subside and things would go back to normal.

  The dark clouds that had been threating rain finally made good on their threat, first in a drizzle that quickly evolved into a full blown downpour. Broadbent turned his collar up against the rain.

  “The god’s have smiled on us, my friend. Our quarry will be seeking their hidey holes in weather like this. They hate the rain which means we can seek shelter as well. Shall we head back to the car?”

  “Lead the way, Professor.”

  They walked along the sidewalk silently, with hands in their pockets and heads down against the rain. About five blocks into their retreat, Nardo stopped. Broadbent had taken three steps before he realized it and turned back to his partner.

  “Do you smell anything?”

  Broadbent took in a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. “Rain, dog, exhaust, garbage, ah, there it is. Something chose to stay out in the rain.”

  “Or has wandered too far from its lair. It’s coming from over there.”

  “The cozy fire and warm cup of tea was just a dream anyway. Let’s get on with it.”

  They followed the scent which was difficult with the rain washing it away almost as quickly as it was laid, but each whiff was stronger than the last.

  “There’s three of them. What the hell are they doing?” Nardo turned down the street to his right. “Bussing them over?”

  Demons usually hunted alone, rarely in pairs.

  “Déjà vu all over again,” whispered Broadbent.

  Nardo silently chuckled at the Professor’s use of the famous American ballplayer’s quote. “And look Papa Berra, there they are now!”

  Broadbent drew his blade from its sheath and began to run. “Get a move on there, Goldilocks,” he called to Nardo over his shoulder.

  Chapter 29

  Hope sat on the edge of the bed in her once again neat and tidy room. The bed, not her bed. That was the way she thought of it. Her bed was up the flight of stairs at the end of the hall in Nico’s tiny apartment. Her bed was Nico’s bed, wherever that bed might be. That’s where she belonged. She knew it. Unfortunately, he didn’t and there was nothing she could do about that.

  She watched her finger as it lazily drew an intricate pattern on the spread. The pattern was always the same. It was a nervous habit left over from her childhood. She couldn’t remember exactly when it started, sometime after her mother died, she supposed, something she used to comfort herself when her mother was no longer there to offer it. Now, however, there was no comfort in it. Her finger worked faster and faster. It seemed to infuse her with an energy for which there was no release. She balled her hand into a fist and clutched it to her chest.

  She got up, smoothed the few wrinkles she’d created and looked around the room. There was nothing left to do and she couldn’t hide up here forever. It wasn’t right to leave all the work to Grace while her idle hands did nothing. She headed downstairs to find Grace.

  “Are you all right?” Grace asked gently as soon as she saw Hope was alone.

  Hope nodded but didn’t speak. The kitchen island was covered in freshly laundered clothes. Grace took a shirt, snapped it smartly, folded it into a neat square and placed it on its proper stack. Hope took a seat on the other side of the island and began the same process. Snap, fold, stack. Snap, fold, stack. Grace continued as well until the pile was half finished and the silence grew too heavy.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Hope shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about. This is the way Nico and I want it.”

  “Bullshit. You don’t have to talk to me about it. I can respect that. You can lie about it to the others and I can respect that, too, but don’t lie to me or Manon. That’s the rule.” She smiled to soften the criticism and continued folding the laundry. “Lying doesn’t work anyway. We always know. When you walked in here earlier, your emotions were so high they were bouncing off the ceiling and just that quick,” She snapped her fingers, “They fell to the floor. I thought when Nico ran after you that maybe you’d work it out, but obviously you didn’t since they’re still on the floor.”

  “We did work it out, just not the way I wanted it. Please, Grace, leave it alone. I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay, sweetie, don’t talk, just listen.” Grace pushed the laundry aside, set her elbows on the table and laced her fingers under her chin. “These Guardians are a stubborn lot. They’re good at dealing with demons, but women? Not so much. They think they’re all badasses with the ladies, but they’re not.” She laughed a little. “Okay, maybe they are, but not for the reasons they think. This job is more than a job. It’s a calling and it comes, especially for the older ones like Canaan and Nico, with a lot of baggage. There are traditions and a lot of stuff I don’t understand because we don’t practice it here. This House is different and Nico’s almost as new to it as you and I are.

  “Anyway, and I’m not telling you anything that everyone else doesn’t already know. When Canaan and I first started to dance, I kind of had to take the lead.” She winked and laughed. “He took over real quick, once he got the hang of it, but I had to start the music and take the first step. What I’m trying to say here, sweetie, is that maybe you need to be a little more forceful and drag Nico out onto the floor so the two of you can dance. He loves you. I know he does.” Grace tapped her heart. “Feeling emotions is my gift.”

  “Nico’s not Canaan, Grace, and I’m not you.” Hope sighed and continued her folding.

  “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” Grace grinned when Canaan walked into the room. “Were your ears burning?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was talking about you. I was telling Hope about how stubborn you can be.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “She’s telling you tall tales then, because I’m not a stubborn man. It’s well known that I’m cooperative and reasonable at all times and about all things.”

  “Oh, oh, big boy. You’d better be careful. You’re going to hell if you keep lying like that.”

  “And you’ll be there to keep me company. What’s for supper?”

  “Stew. It’s cold and rainy. I thought it might be a good night for it.”

  “Good thinking.” He hesitated and looked at Hope. “There’ll be one less at the table. Nico.”

  “He’s out for the night?”

  “He’s gone. He came to me earlier, asked for leave. Things have been slow so I granted it.”

  “Canaan.” Grace said his name with a combination of disappointment and disgust.

  “What would you have me do, Grace? He has a right to ask for leave and I didn’t have a reason to say no.”

  Grace looked pointedly from him to Hope.

  “I don’t think tha
t one’s in the rule book, honey.”

  “It’s all right, Grace,” Hope interrupted. “It’s my fault. I told him to go. I didn’t think he’d take it literally.”

  Grace frowned at her. “I thought we were breaking that habit. It’s not your fault he’s a stubborn fool. Anyway, he has to come back. He has a contract.”

  Hope knew Canaan wanted to say something more, but she couldn’t ask him what it was. She didn’t want everyone in the House to know about her talent. It would only make them uncomfortable.

  “I think it would be best if I moved back to my house,” she said. She’d been thinking about it all night as she filled her closet and drawers. It was the best solution for everyone.

  “No!” Canaan and Grace said together.

  “If you leave now, then it will be your fault,” Grace argued.

  “It’s not safe for you there. I want you to stay here until this is resolved.” Canaan’s voice was firm.

  Hope tried, but she couldn’t get a read on what Canaan wanted resolved only that there was more than one thing.

  *****

  “There’s four,” Nico shouted as one of the group turned. Two of the others turned, following the reaction of the first. They shimmered out of human form into beasts.

  “No! Go right,” Broadbent shouted. They were running in the white light and suddenly time slowed.

  There was a woman with the demons. She stared directly into Broadbent’s eyes and time seemed to stop. There was no reaction in those eyes, no fear, no surprise. They were the dead eyes of the blind, yet Broadbent knew she saw him. She lifted her closed fist in front of her face, right over those staring eyes, and released her clenched fingers. Something dropped from her hand.

  And then demon claws were shooting toward his face. He shifted and threw himself to the ground. Supporting his weight on his left hand, he kicked out with his right foot. The demon’s arms went to its middle anticipating a blow to its gut, but Broadbent’s strike zone was to its leg just above the knee. He was rewarded with a satisfying crack and the demon screamed, but it didn’t fall. Broadbent rolled forward with the kick and came instantly to his feet.

  The demon charged before he could complete the turn to face it. He was broadsided across his shoulder and chest and had no choice but to roll with the blow. The demon sailed over his back as he rolled and it landed against the curb with Broadbent plastered on top of it. It wrapped its arms around him with a crushing force and dug its claws into his chest. There was no time for the Paenitentia to break its hold.

  Momentum carried them over the curb and into the gutter. Now the demon was on top. It drew back its arm, talons extending for a killing blow and Broadbent struck. The curved blade dug deep into the ribs and the shape of the blade drove it upwards into the heart. Broadbent struggled from beneath and emerged with his blade ready for the next attack.

  Nardo caught the demon on the right before it had completely changed. He leaped into the air and brought the knife down. It should have been a direct blow to the jugular vein in its neck, but the changing body shifted into something much larger and the blade glanced off its shoulder. Its arm heaved out as Nardo struck and caught the guardian with a massive fist to the chest. Already airborne, Nardo shouted in shock as he suddenly changed direction and was thrown against the wall. His head slammed back and pieces of brick and dust fell over him as he slid down the wall. He heard his knife skittering down the sidewalk out of reach.

  One shake of his head and he was back on his feet, just in time to sidestep the demon as it charge him with its head down like a giant bull. This time, brick shattered with the impact and the demon fell to its knees. Nardo grabbed a second knife from the sheath at his wrist and using two hands, drove the blade through the demon’s back and into its heart. A throwing star slammed into its back at the base of its neck inches above the blade.

  “Goddammit Professor! When the hell are you going to learn to yell before you throw the fucking star! You could’ve taken my hand off.”

  He withdrew his blade using his foot for leverage and used the same foot to roll the creature onto its back. He then used the blade to slice into its chest, plunged in his hand and pulled it back with the black heart in his fist. He held it to the sky and roared. The body began to shrivel.

  Broadbent was brushing off the front of his shredded jacket, ignoring the blood seeping through. “You really need to work on that temper, Nardo. That kind of agitation can’t be good for the digestion.”

  “If you learn to take care of your own fucking demon and leave me to mine, I promise I won’t get pissed off.”

  Broadbent snapped his jacket collar to straighten it and shot the sleeves. “You looked like you might need some assistance. I’d already taken care of mine.”

  Nardo burst out laughing and pointed into the street. “I don’t think so.”

  Broadbent’s demon was struggling to rise.

  “Well shit. In all the excitement I forgot to take the damned thing’s heart.” Broadbent withdrew the knife from inside his jacket and followed the same procedure as Nardo. When he was finished and the demon was shriveling at his feet, he pulled out a bloody handkerchief and began to wipe the blade. “And I’d just finished cleaning it.”

  Nardo strapped in the knife he’d retrieved from the sidewalk. “We don’t have time to neaten up, Professor. As it is, we’re lucky we weren’t seen.”

  “Oh, we can’t leave yet.” Broadbent stooped low as he searched along the gutter and sidewalk. His head almost touched the ground when he looked under a nearby parked car.

  Nardo snorted. “You think you’re going to find the two that got away?”

  “Only one demon got away, Nardo.” He snatched at something on the other side of the car. “The other was Faith Parsons.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite. I saw her clearly.” He held up a square of folded paper. “And I believe she left us a note.”

  Chapter 30

  Nardo came through the door yelling. “Canaan! Hope! Come quick!”

  Grace pushed past Canaan and Hope. “Oh God, how bad is it?”

  Nardo waved his hand in dismissal. “The Professor got clawed some. It’s not too bad. It can wait.”

  “Says the man in the un-ruined shirt and jacket.” Broadbent was shaking the rain from his Burberry and inspecting the tears. His shirt front was shredded and bloody. “I’m beginning to think the dynamic duo with their two dollar t-shirts have the right idea. My tailor would have a fit if he saw this.”

  “Never mind your tailor, what the hell’s going on?” Canaan had his hands on his hips.

  Grace was already pulling Broadbent over to the screened corner. “No one’s saying anything until I get a look at that chest.”

  Hope was already heading for the kitchen with a basin for water. By the time she returned, Broadbent was on the cot, bare chested and Grace was examining his wounds.

  “Broadbent, sweetie, you’ve got to be more careful.”

  “Tell me about it,” Nardo griped.

  Hope knelt beside him on the other side and began to wash away the blood. The wounds weren’t deep and the two women breathed a sigh of relief. Hope looked at the wounded man’s face and began to smile. The smile froze on her face and her hand stopped mid-swipe. She continued to stare at Broadbent. Whatever he wanted to say was important and he needed to say it to her. Her eyes widened.

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  Broadbent gripped her shoulder. “I saw your sister, Hope. Faith is still alive.”

  Hope sat back on her heels and continued to stare. She’d half convinced herself that Faith must be dead and she was prepared for the bad news. It took her a moment to process the good.

  “Where is she? When can I go get her? When can I bring her home?” Her whole body was shaking with energy. She wanted to do something, anything. She wanted to run and share the news with Nico, but Nico wasn’t here.

  She opened the bridge as wide as she could. Can you hear me, lov
e? Faith is alive! My sister is alive. There was no response. She couldn’t tell if the bridge was closed at his end or if he was too far away. She was surrounded by friends and yet she’d never felt so alone.

  Nardo began the story and Broadbent interrupted to tell of his encounter with Faith.

  “Her eyes appeared blind and yet she knew I was there in front of her. I swear she looked right into my eyes.” He mimicked Faith’s actions as he spoke. “She didn’t speak, but her actions seemed to say, ‘Good. Look at me. See my fist. Look at my fingers. See the paper drop.’ It was the strangest thing,” he continued. “It was as if she was in a trance, yet she did what she could to communicate.” He shook his head. “And suddenly there was a demon coming at me. The fight was on and she was gone.”

  Hope thought of the way she and Nico could communicate and she had to ask. “Do you think she was reaching you telepathically?”

  “Can she do that?” Canaan asked.

  “Can you?” asked Grace.

  “No,” Hope answered. It wasn’t a lie. She couldn’t speak to anyone but Nico. “It was just the way Broadbent described it.”

  “No,” he said, “I’m sorry if I gave that impression. It was the only way I could think of to describe what happened. It isn’t enough to say she dropped a note. It was very deliberate.”

  “We searched for hours, Hope.” Nardo dug into the front pocket of his soggy jeans and spoke to Grace. “And before you say anything, I tried to make him go home. He wouldn’t listen. The professor insisted on staying to search. It was pouring. You know what that does to tracking. Everything is washed away. We kept moving farther and farther out from the scene. Broadbent found the second note. I found the third.”