Guardian's Joy #3

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  And just as he had that night on the deck, he kissed her, a soft and feathery touch behind her ear. “You can believe in me,” he whispered again and then he released her and opened the door and let her walk away.

  “I don’t believe in anyone but myself,” she whispered as she passed.

  Chapter 22

  Goddess! Was the universe conspiring against her or what?

  JJ had no idea the whole day had passed while she and Nardo were in the gym until she barreled into the kitchen on her way to her room. There was Grace with an oversized t-shirt hiked above her very naked ass. Said ass was covered, however, by a shirtless Canaan’s very large hands as he propped the woman up with her legs wrapped around his waist. The two were in a lip lock to end all lip locks. At the intrusion, Canaan’s eyes went wide. JJ did an about face and Grace squeaked in embarrassment or maybe because Canaan dropped her. JJ wasn’t sure and she wasn’t about to look.

  She started for the door she came from. She could hide out in the family room until the coast was clear.

  “Stop! It’s okay!” Grace giggled. “We weren’t doing anything. Well we were, but not what you think. We were celebrating. Please turn around. I don’t want to share this with the back of your head.”

  As JJ turned, Canaan came out of the laundry room with a pair of sweat pants dangling from his finger. Grace, now behind the huge granite island, wiggled into them while she spoke.

  “I just peed on the stick and it came up positive,” Grace told her excitedly.

  “O-o-oka-a-ay.” JJ wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say.

  “Oh, sorry! Pregnancy test. Positive. We’re going to have a baby.” Grace ran around the island and grabbed JJ’s hands. “I’m so excited I can’t stand it.”

  JJ started to laugh. “Gee, I hardly noticed. I guess congratulations are in order, huh?” She’d never thought about having kids herself, but Grace’s delight was infectious. “So when’s it due?”

  Grace’s frown turned right back up into a silly grin. “We don’t know.”

  Okay. This was why she never thought about having kids. Women lost their minds and she’d lost enough of that already. JJ looked to Canaan for an explanation. He was wearing the same silly grin as his mate. Lucky kid. Its father, at least, was coherent.

  “Gestation in Paenitentia women is a little over eleven months, but this is a mix so…” He raised his hands and shrugged.

  “Ten months and one week. Mama said I was…” the world’s longest pregnancy. JJ started to shake. Her hand came to her mouth and then left it to point at Canaan’s bared chest, all thought of pregnancy gone.

  Over his heart bloomed a handful of white lilies in the center of which sat a black skull crying red tears. “Who did that tattoo?”

  “JJ? Sweetie? Are you all right?” Grace pulled over one of the chairs and eased JJ into it. “Canaan, get her a glass of water. Are you all right?” she asked again.

  JJ’s head was nodding yes, but what she said was, “No. No, I don’t think I’m all right at all.” She pointed again at Canaan’s chest. “Who did that?”

  Grace ran her hand over JJ’s hair in a motherly gesture. “Oh, sweetie, they all have them. It’s…”

  Col chose that moment to enter the kitchen. He glanced around the room. “Hey, where’s breakfast? What’s wrong?”

  JJ pushed Grace’s hand away. She’d never liked being touched in sympathy. It was easier to keep your act together if you stood alone. “Does Col have one?”

  “Have one what?” Col asked looking worried.

  “Show her your lilies,” Canaan and Grace said together.

  Confused, Col lifted his shirt. Above his pierced left nipple, and covering the whole of his large square pectoral muscle, was another bouquet of lilies, this one without the skull and tears.

  “Where did they get them?” JJ asked Grace.

  “When we become adults,” Col started to say, but stopped when JJ’s hand snapped up.

  “I want Grace to answer,” she said.

  Grace understood. “They wouldn’t lie to you, sweetie,” she said gently. “When a male of the Race reaches maturity, the lilies bloom. It’s not a tattoo. It’s in their genes. When they’re accepted? Initiated?” She looked to Canaan, unsure of the right word and continued when he nodded. “Initiated into the Guardians, the skull and tears appear. Remember how we told you they’re born to be Guardians? That’s how they know. They’re born with a tiny red tear.”

  Grace pointed to Col who promptly raised his shirt again and showed her the tear at the edge of the lilies.

  JJ pulled aside the neck of her t-shirt until her tattoo was revealed. “What does this mean?” She glared at Grace. “You had to have seen it. Why didn’t you say something to me?”

  “And why didn’t you say something to me?” Canaan wasn’t happy. A Liege Lord ought to know what was going on in his own House.

  Grace looked at Canaan, but answered them both. “Manon said she was okay. She’s one of us. She said the rest was JJ’s story to tell.” She glanced at JJ. “If she could. I didn’t tell you, Canaan ad Simeon, because you’re a big bully once you get something into your head.” Her mouth quirked when Col snorted. “And JJ wasn’t in any shape to be bullied. She still isn’t. So step very carefully, Big Boy. I’m in no condition to be upset.”

  Canaan kissed the top of her head. “You’re going to use this every chance you get, aren’t you?”

  “Probably,” she laughed, but she sobered when she looked at JJ. “Anything you need to ask? Anything you need to say?”

  JJ was staring at Canaan’s chest. “What does a red sword mean?” She moved her hand in the shape of a wide blade.

  “Nothing that I know of,” Canaan told her. “Why?”

  “If I close my eyes, I see a red sword instead of the skull.” She rubbed her finger up the center of her forehead from the bridge of her nose to her hairline. It was happening again; the headache that came with reaching for a memory.

  “Is it a tattoo? Like the one on your back?” Canaan took a step toward her, the glass of water forgotten.

  JJ squinted. The kitchen lights were blinding. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. My mother did this.” Her hand went to the spot. “I think.”

  Canaan stepped closer. “You think?”

  Grace put her hand on Canaan’s arm. “Canaan, that’s enough. This is exactly what I meant. You’re like a damned dog with a bone. Now stop it.”

  “Please. It’s okay.” JJ raised her hand to them both. “I have a few blanks in my memory, that’s all.” More like a giant black hole, but she wasn’t ready to tell them that. “I don’t want to cause trouble.” She tried to smile. “Especially not today.”

  Grace wrapped her arm around JJ’s waist. “Don’t you worry sweetie. Big Boy will make it up to me once we’re alone. You go on upstairs and get yourself pulled back together. We’ll talk later. But only if you want to,” she added with a glare at Canaan. “Go on, now. Everything will be all right.”

  JJ dragged herself up the stairs. The headache was already receding, but another one was waiting at the top of the stairs.

  Faith was standing in the hall, tapping her foot to music from the portable media player Dov had loaded for her yesterday. She smiled shyly and offered an ear-bud to JJ.

  “Watcha got there, kiddo?” JJ took the proffered earpiece and put it up to her ear. It was Ingrid Michaelson’s Soldier.

  With the lyrics about starting to believe in something besides yourself, it was probably the last song JJ wanted to hear and by the grin on Faith’s face, the little smart ass had cued it up on purpose.

  “You know, don’t you?” JJ said, handing back the piece of plastic. “What? Were you out in the hall with your little ears plastered to the gym door?” She made a wry face and shook her head. “Yeah. Everybody says ‘Ooo, poor little Faithy,’ but I’m on to you, sister. You know every damn thing that happens in this House.”

  Faith’s eyes widened as if she was hurt an
d offended, but then she spoiled the effect when she laughed. No sound emerged, but it was a laugh just the same. She held her nose and waved her hand toward JJ’s bedroom door.

  “I know. I know. That’s where I was headed when I got waylaid in the kitchen. Hey, did you know Grace is preggers?” JJ laughed and gently pushed past the genuinely surprised Faith. “Then I guess you don’t know everything, do you.” she said as she closed the door.

  *****

  Isaac sat awkwardly folding and unfolding his napkin as he waited for Marta to bring in dessert. He didn’t want to hurt Marta’s feelings, but tonight he had no appetite for sweets, no appetite for anything.

  A bachelor and terrible cook, Isaac usually looked forward to these bi-monthly dinners with his old friends. He enjoyed their quiet conversations about worldly and Paenitentia politics, books and music and he regretted his lack of participation tonight. Normally, these were the mornings where professional concerns were set aside. Today, however, Isaac’s trouble over work could not be ignored.

  What he’d believed to be an opportunity had turned ugly and he had no one to blame but himself. He’d heard the rumors of the man’s temper, but when approached, he’d jumped at the chance to work with Dr. ad Fenton. The man was a genius in genetics and his work would someday benefit all Paenitentia. Or at least that is what Isaac thought when he agreed to set aside his current project to work with the man. Isaac’s pharmacological expertise was vital to the project’s success. How could he turn such flattery down?

  He’d sworn an oath to keep the work secret from those outside the lab. Isaac didn’t take oaths lightly. All results were hand written and carefully locked away each morning under the stony gaze of security guards. Computers were not allowed and when Isaac questioned the antiquated record keeping, he got what should have been his first hint that something was wrong.

  Dr. ad Fenton was obsessed with returning to the way things used to be. Isaac had lived through the way things used to be and he was much happier in the modern world. That he and ad Fenton disagreed should not have been a problem. After all, lots of people longed for the good old days. It had nothing to do with the work.

  But the doctor couldn’t agree to disagree. He harassed anyone who didn’t share his opinion. He began to lecture those around him about the superiority of the Race and their Right of Dominion on earth. That’s how he spoke of it, as if the words were capitalized as a legitimate philosophy.

  And there was more, much more. It worried Isaac to the point where he could think of little else. His conscience plagued him until he could no longer participate and his hesitance had been noticed.

  “Isaac? Isaac.”

  Isaac blinked. Deter and Marta were both staring at him with worried eyes. The cake was sliced and served; the coffee poured. How long had he been lost in his thoughts and fears?

  “Isaac, old friend, what troubles you? Are you ill?” Deter asked. Isaac wasn’t looking well. He and Marta had discussed it the last time Isaac came to dine. Today, the man looked worse.

  “It’s my conscience that makes me ill, Deter, and I have nowhere to turn. I gave my oath.”

  “Perhaps you can find a way to tell us what troubles you without breaking your oath,” Marta suggested.

  Isaac thought for a moment. His oath was to tell no one about the work, not the people he worked with. It was a fine line, but one he could live with.

  “I thought my research would be applied to some great goal to benefit the Race. Now I’m afraid that goal may lead to the Race’s eventual destruction.”

  “Surely it isn’t as dire as that.” Marta said kindly. She was a practical woman not overly impressed with a dramatic turn of phrase. Although, as she thought about it, she’d never known Isaac to be so inclined.

  “I believe it is, Marta. Ad Fenton has become a fanatic preaching a New World Order and I now believe my research will be used to further his cause.” Isaac stared at the cheery yellow tablecloth Marta said she used to chase away the winter gloom. He wished it was as easy as that. He spoke carefully. “I was told my research would be applied to small animals that were being kept at another location for the health and safety of the Sanctuary.” It was another clue he had ignored.

  “The other day I overheard the doctor discussing tragic outcomes.” He used his fingers to form quotation marks in the air. “And that was followed by a reference to young martyrs for the cause. Captain ad Primus then promised him more believers who would willingly volunteer to sacrifice their lives for the glory of the Race.”

  “The captain is involved?” Marta had answered the door to the man several times and his only acknowledgement of her had been a curt ‘I’ll announce myself. You’re dismissed.’

  “He must be,” Isaac conceded. “Every time he shows up, the doctor almost kisses his boots.”

  “The Director is afraid of him and the Director fears no one. He may bow to the Councilors and Advisors who visit and curry favor with the Governing Board, but he does not fear them.” Martha pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “He believes he is smarter than they are. No doubt he feels the same about the captain, but he fears him as well. I have seen the fear in his eyes and I have seen the rage he only dares show after the captain leaves.”

  “What is he a captain of?” Deter asked. “Is it a courtesy title or a rank?”

  “It must be courtesy,” Marta concluded. “He is the kind of man who would find being a member of the constabulary beneath him and,” she shrugged and smiled, “We have no army.”

  Neither man smiled back.

  Chapter 23

  “Careful!” Nardo yelled as his Liege Lord danced around the stacks of boxes placed to either side of the War Room door. “Uh, my lord.” He winced when a drizzle of syrup hit a cardboard carton.

  “I brought you some breakfast.” Canaan set the overflowing plate on the conference table and removed flatware and napkin from his hip pocket. “Grace was a little disappointed you weren’t there for the celebration.”

  “I heard all the cheering. What’s up?” Nardo swung his chair from the computer to the table.

  “I’m going to be a father.” Canaan tried for nonchalance and failed miserably. He shook his head at the wonder of it. “A son. I can’t believe it?”

  “Congratulations, sir.” Nardo dug into the French toast. “You know the sex already? I mean. Couldn’t it be a girl?”

  Canaan waved the thought away with his hands. “Hell no. Not going there. Only boys.”

  Nardo laughed. “Aw, come on. Can’t you picture a cute little girl looking up at her daddy with those big adoring eyes?” He demonstrated with his own long lashes.

  “Yeah, sure. I thought my sister was cute, too, until she started dating. Not going there. No way.”

  “But this would be your daughter.” Nardo was enjoying the teasing though the pleasure appeared to be one sided.

  “Which would be ten times worse.” Nardo started to say something else, but Canaan raised his finger in warning. “It’s a boy until it isn’t and then I’ll deal.” He turned away and closed the door to give them some privacy. “Now, why didn’t you tell me about your girlfriend’s memory loss?”

  “I just found out, sir,” he said. He thought about correcting his boss on the girlfriend comment, but then decided that was her issue, not his. Sooner or later she’d come… Oh yeah, she would. She’d come and come and….

  “Tune in here, son, unless those moo-cow eyes are for me.” When Canaan was sure he had the younger Guardian’s attention, he told him about what happened in the kitchen, skipping the compromising details.

  “Holy shit.” Nardo sat back in his chair, breakfast forgotten. “You think she might be…”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Nardo winced. “There’s more. I’ve been sitting here mulling it over. I was afraid you’d think I was just trying to keep her off the street because, well, you know.”

  Canaan nodded. “Yeah, I know. Suppose you tell me and let me make the decision.”
<
br />   Nardo told him about the panic attacks. He felt like he was betraying her, but the Liege Lord had a right to know.

  When he finished, Canaan pointed to the computer behind Nardo. “If you haven’t already, you need to find out everything you can about her. We need to know. Grace needs to know.”

  Nardo was relieved to no longer feel like a stalker. “I’ll get on it as soon as I finish this. I was going to bring it to the meeting later, but since you’re here, you may as well see it now. I’m not sure what it means, but I know it isn’t good.”

  “Fuck. What is it now?”

  Nardo spun back to the computer. “I sent an email out to every address I have in the area telling them of a possible vamp. I asked them to report back on anyone missing. They don’t know I’m a Guardian, so I told them I was in contact with you and would pass along the pertinent info.” He shrugged off his omission. “Independents don’t always like us any more than the Council does. Anyway, I got a ton of responses, most just checking in or asking for gory details. I started thinking this was a waste of time, but then I came across one reporting a missing friend and then another and another. So far, I’ve got nine missing; all young, all male, all fairly isolated from family.” He blew out his breath in a frustrated sigh. “And I’m only halfway through. I haven’t even started on the chat rooms.”

  Canaan tapped the screen. “This takes priority. I’ll leave it to you how best to go about it.” He paused when he reached the door. “Which means your personal shit goes on hold. You hear me?”

  By the time Nardo finished with the emails, he found a total of fourteen male Paenitentia who were unaccounted for. He sent replies to those reporting the missing men asking for more details; full names, addresses, last seen and any other contacts known. The printer was buzzing out a hard copy of everything he had so far, when the door crashed open and JJ strode in. She was furious.