Angel's Guardian: A Contemporary Vampire Romance

by Zeecé Lugo

  Nina woke up and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Mommie?”

  “Baby, listen. We need to hide. There’s a bad guy trying to get in the house.” Angel grabbed Nina’s hand, but before she could move, a banging began at the front door.

  “Someone is at the door, Mommie. Maybe it’s Max! I can answer it.”

  “No! Never, Nina. Never, ever let anyone into the house. Max has keys. He never knocks. Remember that, baby.”

  “But they’re knocking hard. They really need to come in. Maybe it’s someone who is cold and hungry.” Nina well understood cold and hungry.

  “No, baby. Max will get angry if you let someone in. You understand? Max will make us leave if we let a stranger in.” Nina looked up with worry. She did not want to make Max angry and lose his affection.

  At once, there was banging at the living room window too. Angel became frantic that the glass window would break, and the creatures would come in, for there was more than one. Grabbing her daughter’s hand, she ran in terror for the basement door. There was only one half window in the basement.

  She looked around her for something to use for protection. It dawned on her that she could not protect them from these beings that were supernaturally strong, fast, and agile. Could she keep them out instead?

  She placed little Marco on the laundry basket and ran back up the stairs. Thank God the door had a bolt that locked from the inside; she bolted it. She came back and gathered her little ones to her. She found the farthest corner and huddled there with her babes.

  Then the banging began on the small basement window. A manic, hysterical, cackling laughter, like that of a hyena, could be heard coming from the outside. Along with the banging and the laughter, the doorbell rang non-stop, loudly, insistently. Angel sobbed, desperately holding on to her children, aware that she needed to be strong but unable to control her emotions.

  To her already fractured mind, it seemed as if dozens of demons were hammering at the walls, and it was only a matter of time before they broke in and tore her babies to shreds. The baby, feeling her iron grip, began to cry. Angel realized she needed to get a hold of herself and calmly make plans to protect her children. She handed the babe to Nina and looked around for a weapon.

  The only things she found were a hefty hammer and a couple of long screwdrivers. Armed with these, she crouched in front of her children, waiting for the enemy. In her mind, she cried out to her vampire. Max, we need you. Come home, please! Over and over, like a litany, she prayed the same words.

  ******

  On the other side of the bridge, two boroughs away, Max felt the disturbance. Something was wrong. It was Angel, he realized, startled at the fact. He was shocked that he could feel her terror and need. At the speed of a fast wind gust, he streaked towards his home, ready to kill anyone and anything threatening the little family.

  “Angel, Angel, open up.” Max banged on the basement door. “Open up, woman, it’s me, Max. I’m here.” He could smell her fear. He knew they were in the basement. Finally, he just kicked the door open and bolted down to find his little group huddled in the back. Angel’s face, covered in tears, blanched in terror, looked up at him. She dropped the hammer and tried to stand, but her legs failed her.

  Max rushed to grab the woman and pull her into his arms, where she sobbed uncontrollably. Over her shoulder, he could see little Nina, her face also wet with tears, the baby held tightly in her arms, totally unaware.

  “It’s okay, okay,” he soothed the girl in his arms as he held her tenderly. “I’m here. You are safe now. Nothing and no one may harm you.” Nina rose and came to him. He picked her up and enclosed all of them in his embrace.

  That morning, they moved to his room. Neither female would let him go. He had no choice but to bring the baby’s pen up to the alcove. Nina fell asleep at the foot of his bed, exhausted from the ordeal. He placed Angel on the large, king-sized bed and covered her with a warm comforter. She lay there on her back, eyes wide-open, her blood flooded with adrenaline. She was pale and shivering.

  “I told you, they can’t come in unless you invite them in. You were never in danger.”

  “I could not think. The noise was horrible,” she whispered. “Like dozens of demons using little hammers to drive me crazy. I feared they’d break the window.”

  “Intimidation. They wanted you to go outside where you’d be vulnerable.”

  “They, Max? Who are they?”

  “This time, it was my family. They want to force me back home. For some time now, they have been quiet. It’s been months now that I’ve not heard a pip out of them. Now they know you’re here, under my protection. They would seek a way to use you as leverage. They left long before I got here, knowing full well I’d understand their message.”

  “Back home? Where is that?” Angel turned on her side to face him, her eyes red and tired. His heart turned at the sight of her, exhausted and hurting.

  “A place that no human may know. We safeguard its location with our lives. I have not been back in many years.”

  “You have a Russian name.”

  “Originally, my people claimed that land as home, but that was many years ago. For now, forget about that and close your eyes. I’ll be right here.” He took his place next to her, and was surprised when she moved closer to him and laid her head by his shoulder.

  “Careful, girl, the fleas in my beard may bite you.” He was gratified when his words brought a semblance of a smile to her lips.

  “You don’t have any fleas. They’re too scared of you to take up residence.”

  He raised himself to lean on his elbow. “Don’t you fear me?”

  She gazed into his eyes long and trustingly. “I only fear your absence. You’re the first man in my entire life who makes me feel safe and protected.”

  “But I’m no man. I’m a monster.”

  “You’re vampire, not monster. I know much about monsters, and you’re not one.” Her hand rose to touch his face and brush his shaggy mane away from it.

  Max gazed into her trusting eyes, and unable to help himself, he slowly bent to kiss her lips. He meant it to be a gentle, barely touching of lips offering comfort and affection. He never expected her lips to be so soft and yielding or her arms to reach up to clasp him in her embrace.

  At once, a sweet sensation swept over him, and he found himself falling into a vortex of longing, the sweet scent of her flesh suffusing his senses, the liquid of her mouth awakening a hunger so deep, blood would never satisfy it. Something he had not felt in years, bloomed: desire.

  He kissed the woman, and something awakened in him that he had not felt since his youth. It was a sweet and exquisite sensation that both thrilled and energized him. It was so intense, he could barely breathe through it. His body was vibrating like a string on a violin; a dark, delicious humming sliding over his body. His manhood filled and hardened, becoming the third person in the room.

  Angel melted into him, her liquid mouth allowing him access, and he stormed her mouth with his, his tongue seeking, touching hers, tangling with it, his lips sucking it sweetly as his fangs gently rasped it. Angel moaned and Max forced himself to pull away. What his body wanted was not about to happen, not with little Nina asleep at the foot of the bed, and Angel terrified and trembling, seeking solace only.

  “I’m sorry. I should not have done that. I meant to offer comfort, not to trespass or take advantage.”

  Angel did not answer. She looked deep into his eyes and then burrowed herself close to him under the covers and went to sleep. Max did not sleep for a long time, eyes wide open staring at the ceiling, the susurrus of the family’s soft breathing providing a fitting backdrop for his thoughts.

  CHAPTER 17

  Max sat at his desk and watched Angel as she adjusted the now clean, dry, and freshly hung drapes in his bedroom. It was a pleasantly domestic scene.

  “Even if the vampire broke the glass window by throwing a rock or punching it, he could not enter. His hand would not pen
etrate the invisible barrier that keeps him out. That one fact is not a myth,” Max insisted.

  “But that’s a supernatural barrier, Max, and you said that vampires are just another natural species.” Angel looked unbelieving.

  “I said another species. I can’t explain it, woman. Maybe its a psychological barrier. We think we can’t, so we can’t. There are many things that can’t be explained naturally about vampires. In many ways, we are supernatural, but I also know full well that I can’t turn into a bat. I can enter a church with no problem, and I see myself in mirrors.

  “Garlic has no effect on me other than my acute sense of smell is insulted by it. Yet, the herb rosemary poses an almost impassable barrier to us. Where I come from, villagers plant bushes of it by their front doors and under windows as protection against witches and other nightly creatures.”

  “I guess I won’t be making my wonderful rosemary-butter chicken,” said Angel.”

  “I can also move so fast, your eye will not register me. If I give you just a sip of my blood, I will always perceive and track you anywhere you go. I can’t fly, but I can leap from incredible heights and land softly and safely. Once I taste the blood of my prey, I can enter its mind and place a shield of forgetting so that the person is unaware of what is happening. That’s how we have managed to co-exist with your kind for so long, unmolested.”

  “But you bleed, feel pain, and you can be killed.”

  “Yes. I can be killed but not as easily as your people can. Sunlight is poison to me, draining me of strength, blinding me, and burning my skin.”

  “Were you turned into vampire? Like in the movies?”

  “No,” he answered with a chuckle. “I was born vampire. We all are.”

  “How on earth did our people develop so differently?”

  “I don’t know. No one knows. Maybe our ancestors came here from somewhere else, eons ago. Maybe we evolved in a planet that did not have a yellow sun. That would explain our vulnerability to it. Maybe we are the dark, fallen angels of antiquity or the seed of Judas Iscariot or the progeny of Cain. The truth is, we don’t know.”

  “Why does your family pursue you?”

  “They want me to return. They want me to assume the leadership of our line, to step up, take my father’s place and rule from the ancient family seat. I refuse to do so.”

  “You’re a strange one, Max. Most men would love to be in charge. In my experience, power is what men most crave and then sex. Often, the sex is wielded as a manifestation of their power.”

  “I’m not like most men. I value wisdom, practicality, order, logic, nature, true affection, loyalty. I disdain superstition, waste, cruelty. I may not be perfect, but I’m pretty close to it.” He watched her with a spark of mischief and laughter in his eyes.

  “Perfect? Ha! Arrogant is more like it, if you ask me.” Angel did a final tweak of the drapes, her lips pulled in a small, secret smile as the kiss of a few nights before came to mind.

  ******

  On the watch for Angel’s enemies, he became less vigilant for his own. He felt the powerful blow to his back which lifted him and slammed him against the massive concrete support of the bridge. Through the pain radiating up his back, he fought to clear his head and move with speed against the follow-up blow he knew was coming. In a blink of an eye, he spider-climbed up the bridge into the shadowy network where a few seconds of cover would allow him to get his breath and plan his next move.

  Twenty feet below him, his enemy showed, without fear or caution. There was no need for subterfuge. The deep night was dark and cold, the northern wind cutting, any living soul huddled warm and safe in the rabbit hole of choice. Far above them, the late-night traffic was shielded from their view by the massive bridgeworks and parapet. Below, the river flowed thick and black, only the occasional speck of reflected light twinkling in the dark.

  Four figures stood waiting, cloaked, swords in hand. Max would have laughed, but levity could prove problematic in such situations. He assessed the threat and jumped down to land squarely on his feet not ten feet from his enemy.

  “Four only? My cousin either has a very high opinion of your abilities or he wants you dead, my friends.”

  “We bring a message, no more,” said the one in the middle, Danut, a lieutenant of his cousin Toma, and one known to Max from childhood.

  “Ahh, messengers bearing gifts, as surely your swords are gifts to me.”

  “Your cousin Toma wishes once and for all, to resolve matters to the benefit of our people. He proposes a reunion. A family reunion to settle the matter of succession once and for all. A truce during which the issues may be discussed and resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.”

  “I see. Where would this reunion take place? Would it by any chance happen here, in my chosen city of residence?”

  “Don’t be an idiot, Maxim. Your choice to live in the cesspool that is this city only illustrates your madness and unsuitability to lead. But that’s not today’s issue. Toma wants an end to the impasse. He invites you to ‘parley,’ and he invites you to bring your new friends. They will love the old-world architecture and the warmth of torchlight playing in the shadows. They would be safer there, don’t you agree?” The vampire smiled, sharp, white fangs showing as his implication was brought home.

  Max boiled with fury. This was a poorly veiled threat, and he would not stand for it. “Tell my dear cousin Toma to quit taking himself in hand. It causes the manhood to become lazy, the brain to cloud. It results in poor decisions such as sending messengers with foolish veiled threats.”

  Max took off his trench coat and threw it to the side, knowing that the attack was coming. He realized early on that contrary to all those Matrix movie scenes, trench coats in a fight only served to tangle you up and get you killed. You could not possibly carry out a decent leg sweep or a back flip while wearing a trench coat.

  He felt the swish of air, and he dropped to the ground in the blink of an eye, sweeping his right leg behind him and bringing it around in a full circle again to drop the vampire behind him. He felt the slight nick of steel on his shoulder as his enemy went down heavily.

  Max vaulted up and back just barely missing the slash from the blade of the second opponent flanking him. As the blade swept by missing him, Max jumped high and flipped backwards, kicking his attacker in the face and sending him back at least ten feet.

  But the third man slipped in silently and dealt Max a deep slash on the side before pulling safely out of range, circling dangerously, giving the others time to regroup. Danut smiled. “Your death would be an acceptable solution to the problem, a regrettable accident perhaps, but acceptable.”

  Max considered the tableau. He was surrounded by four vampires wielding swords, each man as fast and strong as he. Once again he wanted to laugh at the ridiculous situation. He was fighting them with bare hands. Already he sported two cuts, the one on his side, bothersome.

  His enemies were now circling him like buzzards, waiting to attack as one. Well, he wanted to fight honorably, but not foolishly. After all, he now had people depending on him.

  “I will give you one last chance to return home unharmed,” he offered. “Go home and tell my dear cousin that I have no need or wish to talk with him. As I see it, there is no issue of succession. The situation is entirely to my liking as is. I have a plan, and the little twit just has to get with it.”

  They came at him in a concerted move of ballet-like precision. Their lovely, deadly blades arcing in a synchronized dance that left little room for thought and reaction. Spinning, vaulting, dodging, feeling the bite of sister blades biting at his arms, ribs, face, Max knew he had delayed the inevitable too long.

  He braced for one final lunge, somersaulting a dozen feet back as the bite of sharp blades sliced rents in his clothes. With lightning speed, he reached for the Glock concealed inside his back waistband, and came up shooting.

  Three vampires lay on the cold ground. No matter how powerful the vampire, a brain was a hard thing t
o grow back.

  “That’s why you’re not fit to be our leader,” spit Danut, the only one left standing, fury and fear making him tremble. “You have no honor to fight swords with filthy guns.” He spit in the ground with disdain.

  “Oh, but it’s honorable for four attackers wielding blades to attack an unarmed one? For I know you thought I was unarmed.” Max shook his head, considering the double standard. “The problem lies in the manner you define and weigh honor, my friend. The way you cling to old, senseless philosophies and traditions which have no place in this century. Only a fool will fight with a sword in the age of technology and quantum theory.

  “Consider yourself lucky I need a messenger. Go tell my cousin that he’s a piece of excrement I will wipe off the face of the earth if he continues to plague me and mine. Tell him I’m a man of the times. If he insists on pursuing me, I will bring my war to him, and change his world forever. Now, go!”

  Max picked the pockets of his dead enemies clean. He removed their boots, belts, jewelry, anything that might give any clues to their identities, to dispose of in his furnace. The beautiful swords, he would keep. After disposing of the bodies, he bundled everything in one of the cloaks and headed home.

  CHAPTER 18

  Angel’s face was taut with worry and concern as she cleaned and tended to Max’s many cuts. It seemed that coming home with bleeding stab wounds was becoming a habit for the vampire. According to the movies, they were supposed to be super fast and nearly invincible, but Max was proving to be the exception.

  “I spent years living with degenerate, world-class criminals, and seldom did any come back bleeding and riddled with cuts and, definitely not, on a nightly basis. How could any wife or companion deal with this?”

  “That’s immaterial. I keep no wife or lover. Besides,” he momentarily looked at her, “this is not usual. For some ungodly reason, I’m now besieged with people wanting something from me.”

  “At least, you can be thankful they did not come at you with guns,” answered Angel. “It takes much more skill and effort to hurt someone with a sword.” She looked at the swords on the counter with something akin to gratefulness. “You’d not survive guns easily.”