Guardian's Joy #3

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  “It was my fault,” she told him, “Because I thought I was better, because I believed what they told me instead of my mother who never lied. It was my fault because I used someone I loved to get what I wanted and it got him killed. You can say ‘mine’ all you want, Nardo, I can’t ever be yours. You said so yourself. A blood bond can’t be broken and I’m blood bound to the High Lord.”

  *****

  Canaan lay on his side, elbow propped on the pillow, head propped on his fist as he watched Grace run the brush through her dark curls over and over. He chuckled to himself. She was wasting her time. The way she looked in that slinky red nightgown with the skinny little straps, those silky curls would be tumbled into a sexy mess within minutes of her reaching their bed, but he was enjoying the show and she knew it, so he said nothing. He was a bit surprised, therefore, when she tossed an expensive looking envelope onto the bed and stood looking down at him with her hands on her hips.

  “Broadbent picked this up at the Post Office tonight.”

  Was that a note of jealousy he detected? “Why didn’t you open it?”

  “It was addressed to you and it looks personal and… it smells.” The envelope reeked of Callista’s perfume.

  “Grrr, little kitty has claws.” Canaan laughed but when he saw Grace clench her jaws, he relented. This was, after all, supposed to be a morning of make-up sex after the set-to in the dining room a few hours earlier. The sexy red number had been his first clue that all was well. He pulled back the covers and patted the spot beside him where Grace always slept. “Let’s open it together and see what she has to say.”

  “As if I care,” she said, but she crawled into bed and snuggled up next to him.

  He almost laughed again at her smug and self-satisfied look when he put his arm around her and pulled her in close, but wisdom kept him silent. Instead, he kissed the top of her head.

  “Well? Aren’t you going to open it?”

  Hadn’t she just said she didn’t care? “Thought you might want to play a bit first,” he teased, “but if you insist.”

  He ran his thumb along the flap to break the seal and removed an engraved invitation protected by a sheet of velum. “How about that, we’re invited to a formal event. Our favorite Advisor has found some poor sap to mate with her.”

  “Oh goody, goody and right in our own back yard, too. Do we have to go?” Callista had once tried to drive a wedge between Grace and Canaan for her own purposes. She was not one of Grace’s favorite people.

  “I think we do,” he told her, “Since the poor sap is the Director of Moonlight Sanctuary. Politics. I have no use for the sport, but it’s a game we must play.” He pulled another card from the envelope. It was a folded note card with his name handwritten on the front. “My Dearest Lord Canaan,” he read, “I do hope you and Grace along with the rest of your House will accept this heartfelt invitation to join Maximillian and myself in the celebration of our coming union. It will be an opportunity for a new beginning for us all.” He laughed when Grace stuck out her tongue and raspberried the missive.

  “I just want to be friends,” she mimicked in a high falsetto and then switched to her normal voice. “That’s why she gave us four days to find appropriate dresses for the Sanctuary’s formal winter cotillion.”

  “How do you know about the winter dance?”

  “Dov and Col.” Grace grinned at him. “They received their invitations weeks ago and begged me not to make them go. They very politely sent their regrets on House stationary. Your sister would be proud.” She shrugged and laughed. “Or not. They also asked me not to tell her.”

  “And you, as my lady and mistress of my home, will send our acceptance on the same stationary. For everyone.”

  “I’ll ask, but I don’t think Otto and Manon will want to put themselves through that and if it was up to me, I’d leave it to the others to decide whether they want to go or not.”

  “And that would be fine if it was up to you. Otto and Manon are exempt, but the rest are members of my House and they will attend.” Canaan wasn’t smiling now.

  “I serve at my Liege Lord’s command,” Grace said solemnly, but then spoiled the effect when she giggled and rolled onto his chest. “Big boy.”

  Chapter 35

  The man was a fucking idiot, a Boy Scout of the worst sort. He still didn’t understand, wouldn’t hear what she had to say.

  She’d told him about the ceremony with the fancy dress and all the trimmings, about the pledge she’d made all too willingly in front of every member of the compound. Every member, that is, except Samuel. She’d told him about how the High Lord had punctured the skin above her left breast and taken her blood. She’d even showed him the tiny scars that remained.

  “This is his mark that I place upon you, the mark of the one who did not turn away from us in our hour of need. You have been chosen to be the mother of sons, each bearing the symbol of our loyalty to the one who is loyal to us.” He brought his wrist to his mouth and slashed it with the same teeth with which he’d taken her blood. When he held that wrist to her mouth, she’d hidden her hesitation as she had learned to do.

  She touched her mouth to the vile liquid, felt the acid burn on her tongue and swallowed. It was enough to satisfy him, for he lifted her hand high in the air, the blood dripping from his wrist staining the white sleeve of her gown. There was a rousing cheer and the feast began.

  And all Nardo said was, “You’re mine. Tell me why you left? How did you escape?”

  “Aren’t you listening to me? Didn’t you hear? I’m blood bound to the bastard. I’m not yours! I’m his.”

  They were sitting on the edge of Nardo’s bed; she, wrapped in the blanket; he, still starkers. They were touching, shoulder to shoulder, both staring straight ahead. JJ knew she should shift over, put some space between them, but he was so warm and she was cold, so, so cold.

  “Yeah, yeah, I heard you. Answer the questions.”

  They might be talking baseball he was so calm, so reasonable. Now that he was no longer angry, she found herself becoming so.

  She stepped out of the shower, dried her body and tried to dry her hair. It was too steamy in the room and the High Lord would be disappointed if she wasn’t properly prepared for their dinner. That’s what he always said.

  “I’m disappointed in you,” and then he’d walk away and leave her to the Second. She tried very hard not to disappoint him.

  He was talking to the Second when she opened the door to let out the steam. She paused with the door cracked to listen.

  “Well fix it, goddammit. Surely we have someone who can fix it.” The High Lord was angry as he usually was when things didn’t go as planned.

  “We did, but Samuel’s dead. You ordered it yourself when we learned he had… You ordered it yourself.”

  She managed to close the door before she buckled over with the sudden pain the Second’s words produced. Samuel. Her Samuel. He was dead because she thought she could use her love for him as a shield against the High Lord. The pain in her gut turned into an icy ball of fury. It grew and grew until she could hardly contain it. It roiled and rolled inside her. It froze her insides, numbed her, and yet it burned, burned with an intensity that was horrible in its power. The blue fire crackled at her fingertips.

  “Dinner is waiting,” the High Lord called to her from the other room. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

  No, she wouldn’t want to disappoint. “Coming, my love,” she called. Her voice was just what he would expect.

  “I attacked him, okay? I thought I killed him, but just like those fucking demons, I blew it. I stood there and watched him scream and writhe and then he collapsed and after a few minutes, he stopped twitching. I didn’t feel a thing watching him die. Not a thing except the icy ball inside.

  “I turned back to the bedroom to get some clothes. I don’t think I planned much beyond that. I heard the apartment door open and someone shouted. The Second, I think.”

  She felt a gush of wind
behind her and whirled as the hallway was lit by a brilliant white light. The High Lord was there, risen from the dead, striking her forehead with the palm of his hand.

  “Bitch!” he screamed, his spittle spraying her face and an electric jolt spread through her head and everything went black.

  “He’s the one who erased those years,” Nardo said thoughtfully. “He probably wanted to erase everything, but either he wasn’t strong enough or you were too strong for him. I’m putting my money on you.”

  “I wasn’t strong. I was weak and my weakness got Samuel killed.”

  “No. Samuel chose to follow a psychopath and that psychopath killed him. Did he deserve to die? Maybe not, but it was the psychopath and his sick Second who killed him, not you.”

  “I seduced him,” she argued.

  “Like I said before, he let you. He’s the one who pursued you or have you conveniently ignored that part. I also have a hard time believing that in such a small community, your Samuel didn’t know about what role his High Lord intended you to play. He took his chance and he lost.” She started to protest, but he stopped her. “I know, I know. He was a foolish kid and no one can blame him for the stupidity of youth, but why are you holding yourself to a higher standard? You were a kid, too.

  “I know about feeling responsible for the bad things that happen on your watch. I do it, too, but that doesn’t make it right. I’m lucky. I have Grace and Canaan to set me straight. Now you’re lucky, too. You have me.”

  She felt the slight body shift as he glanced over at her and then resumed his position staring at the wall.

  “One more question and the answer is more important than anything you’ve told me.” He paused and she waited. “Do you love me?”

  JJ was stunned. He hadn’t listened to a word she said. Of all the stupid questions… Her anger boiled over. “Get your head out of your ass, Boy Scout. It doesn’t matter…”

  He didn’t respond to her anger or insult, but stubbornly asked the question again. “Do you love me? It’s a simple yes or no question. Do… you… love… me?”

  She exploded. “Yes dammit! I love you. I think I loved you when you had me pinned against that wall ready to snap my neck. I loved you when you fed me soup and cut my sandwich into tiny bite sized pieces. How’s that for stupid? I fantasize about sharing your bed and spending my life with you. I’m surprised I haven’t scribbled little hearts with our initials inside. There! Are you happy now? Because it still doesn’t make one bit of fucking difference.”

  A smile played at the corner of Nardo’s mouth. “Yeah, I’m happy now. Your loving me makes one helluva fucking difference.” His mouth widened into a grin. “There are a couple of arguments I could make against the validity of your supposed blood bond with the psycho, but you just made the most important one.”

  Nardo threw his arm around her shoulders like they were old pals. “If you were blood bound to him, you couldn’t love me. You wouldn’t be dreaming about me, you’d be sick with missing him. Ask Manon what four years was like without Otto.”

  “But I didn’t know about him. I didn’t remember him.”

  “You remember him now.” He slipped the blanket from her shoulders and kissed his way to the base of her neck. “Tell me how much you’re missing him.”

  Could it be true? Could Nardo be right? JJ automatically tilted her head to give him better access to her neck. The High Lord spoke a lot of fancy words at their mating, but she hadn’t felt any more connected to him afterward than she had before. In fact, she’d felt more trapped and hopeless than ever. She moaned softly as Nardo found the sensitive spot behind her ear and caught her breath when his hand crept over her breast. She’d never longed for the High Lord’s return when he left the compound. She’d looked forward to his leaving.

  He turned her face to kiss her. “You thought I would leave you because you were mated to him. How did that make you feel?”

  “Like my world was crumbling beneath my feet,” she admitted, kissing him back.

  “Ah, baby, you do know how to stroke my ego. It gives me strength.” He fell back on the bed and pulled her on top of him. “It’s a good thing, too, because sometimes loving you wears me out.”

  “You love me?” Funny how coming from him the words meant so much more.

  “Of course I love you. Haven’t I told you a hundred times you’re mine?”

  “That’s not the same as saying the words.”

  “I love you. I love you. I love you and now I’m going to make love to you.”

  He kissed her again, this time long and hard and filled with passion. She responded in kind, wanting her kiss to convey everything she felt for him and wanted from him in return.

  She laughed at his look of surprise when he tried to roll with her and she refused. She threw her leg over him and straddled him instead. She worshipped every inch of him with her hands and lips and teeth, just as she had planned. No longer a selfish deception, but an expression of all that she felt, she nibbled and kissed and suckled every inch of the man she adored.

  She learned which places on his body were most sensitive to her touch and which touch he found the most sensual. She indulged herself in every act he found erotic and his groans of pleasure thrilled her. As his arousal grew to fever pitch, so did her own.

  At last, she settled herself over that throbbing testament to his need and want. Slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered her body onto his. Her body was ready and accepted his massive erection willingly, joyfully. She threw back her head and rode him, exhilarating in the power she had over him and reveling in the sensations that were coursing through her body.

  His hips rose to meet her, faster and faster. It no longer mattered who was in control. Their frenzied joining brought them higher and higher. His hand came between them. One touch of his finger to her clit lit the fuse for the breath-taking explosion that followed. She cried out his name. Her body tightened around him in a paroxysm of ecstasy and he followed her, his face contorting in an agony of bliss.

  JJ collapsed onto Nardo’s chest and burrowed her face into the crook of his neck, finding peaceful contentment in the warmth of his body. After a while, he rubbed her back and murmured against her hair.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s get you under the covers where you’ll be more comfortable.”

  JJ smiled at that. He still didn’t get it. She was in the most comfortable and comforting place in the world. She could stay here forever; here in Nardo’s arms.

  Yeah, he was an idiot to want her for his own and a Boy Scout of the worst sort which translated meant a strong and brave and honorable Guardian of the Race. And she loved him more than any man on earth.

  Chapter 36

  “Are you going to be all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. No problem.”

  “Scared?”

  “Shitless,” she laughed. She’d been doing that a lot since waking up in Nardo’s arms; laughing. For the first time in years, she felt free; free of fear, free of worry, free of the haunting of those missing years.

  “You want to hold my hand?”

  “No.” JJ rolled her shoulders and straightened to her full height. “One touch of your sympathetic hand and my knees will buckle. I’ll make a blubbering fool of myself in front of these staring spectators. Are they always like this?”

  They were walking down the middle of a wide brick sidewalk paved in a basket weave pattern and dotted at regular intervals with benches flanked by cement urns filled with winter greenery and faux gaslights. The small discreet signs that hung from wrought iron poles over the walk announced the businesses within in someone’s stylistic idea of Ye Olde English Script.

  “I don’t know. It’s my first time here, too.” Nardo was the only guy on the street in a leather bomber jacket and he had yet to see another ponytail, but he thought the stares were for Joy.

  His lady was looking hot in her red wool turtleneck and skin tight, black leather slacks. Those pointy-toed, high heeled boots made her long legs a sight
to behold, but her crowning glory had to be the ankle length, Matrix style coat Manon had given her right before they left for Joy’s appointment at the Sanctuary clinic. Luckily, Grace and Hope were on hand to assure their new addition that the Frenchwoman did things like this for all ‘her girls’ and would be hurt and insulted should Joy refuse the gift.

  With her coat unbuttoned and fanning out behind her as she strode beside him, the woman looked like a wet dream in leather and for Nardo, knowing she could kick ass for real made her all that much sexier.

  JJ knew this place existed, everyone did, but it was outside the city limits and therefore the police department’s jurisdiction. Fenced around the outside and sheltered from prying eyes by woods and farmlands, the community was a mystery to all. Even the county boys claimed they’d never answered a call from within its iron gates. Nardo was required to give their names to the uniformed guards in the gate house before they were granted entry and everything was electronically controlled.

  The whole place reeked of money and it was evident a great deal of it was invested in the planning of this pseudo-colonial village. The central part was built in a square around a traditional village green, complete with walking paths, benches and a large gazebo. Two sides were lined with shops and businesses including several restaurants and a pub. At one end, a stone church took center stage flanked by school buildings, if the playground and basketball courts were any indication. JJ thought the schools looked small until she remembered hearing about the Race’s low birth rate.

  At the other end stood Sanctuary Hall, a tall, imposing building that housed municipal offices and rooms for community activities. Side streets appeared to be completely residential.

  The clinic, another colonial style structure, stood behind Sanctuary Hall. Once inside, it looked much like any other small medical facility with offices, laboratories and testing facilities on the first floor and rooms and surgeries on the second.