Guardian's Joy #3

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  Nico sighed audibly. “Broadbent, who was that person and what did they want?”

  “Oh. I see. You could have just asked. She’s a delightful young woman who assumed I was a stranded motorist. She arrived shortly after Col left and kept me company until you arrived.” He lifted the cup. “She had tea. Earl Grey. She said I looked like a tea kind of person.”

  “Did you get a name?” JJ had never heard of Highway Helpers.

  “No, I didn’t. Good Heavens, how rude.” He was surprised at his lack of civility. “We didn’t exchange names. She pulled up wearing this cute little pink outfit with her face all framed with fur. She asked me if I needed rescuing and I said no and she offered me tea. We chatted about this and that. She can quote Thoreau quite handily. A cute little thing, really.”

  “He said cute,” Hope whispered.

  “Twice,” JJ whispered back.

  Nardo made a motion like he was casting out a fishing line. “And she reels him in.” He laughed. “Thoreau and tea. Who could ask for more?” He shook his head. “And you didn’t get her name or number.”

  Broadbent flushed beneath his already cold reddened face. “It wasn’t like that. She wasn’t trying to… um… pick me up.”

  Even Nico laughed at that. “We’re here,” he said. “There’s Dov waving us in.”

  “Looks like the party’s already started,” Nardo commented. Two bodies were propped against the building beside the parking lot entrance.

  Nico backed carefully into the spot Dov indicated and the three men got out. The two women moved to the front seat.

  “So much for all the fuss about surveillance, huh?” JJ gave Nardo a wink and he shrugged.

  “Who knew we’d get a chance at the Director or that the weather would be so cooperative.” He reached across the seat and gave her hand a squeeze, “I’ll see you in a little while.”

  They met no resistance when they entered the building. The loading bay was stacked with crate after crate of supplies. Three freezers, more commercial than the ones Grace used at home, lined one wall and a huge refrigeration unit sat against another. After checking a small office off to the right, Canaan motioned them up the stairs two at a time.

  They caught one uniformed guard coming from the men’s room. Dov quickly shoved him back inside and after a brief scuffle emerged wiping his hands on his jeans. He grinned and gave Canaan a thumbs-down. A white coated man with horned rimmed glasses came shuffling around the corner. He stopped with a look of shock and then ran toward them instead of away.

  “I’m a friend,” he whispered urgently, “Have you come to get us out?”

  Canaan drew him further down the corridor and signaled Col to keep watch where the hallways intersected.

  “My name is Isaac. Deter told me to expect you, but he didn’t tell me when.”

  He gave them an account of where everyone was located and what areas were being used. Added to the blueprints Nardo had gotten from the city’s building department, they now had a more detailed plan of attack.

  Walking ahead and acting as scout, Isaac led them to the research areas where the guard was quickly disabled. From there, there was little resistance until one true believer in a white lab coat attacked Broadbent. The man’s fangs flared and he lunged, shouting that he had the protection of the High Lord. The Professor picked him up by the lapels and hurled him into a bank of metal shelves that held rows of empty glass beakers and test tubes where his attacker sprawled, unconscious, amidst the broken glass.

  Broadbent brushed nonexistent dust from his coat sleeves. “Are there any other contenders?” he asked of the group remaining. He sounded almost friendly though his face and fangs showed he was ready for battle. “I thought not.” He turned to Canaan, rubbing his hands together like an evil movie villain. “Are we to pass judgment, my lord, or do you have other plans?”

  “I think we’ll leave that for the Ruling Council, Broadbent.”

  The Professor bowed his head, earflaps bobbling. “I accede to your wishes, as always. Come, Isaac, help me sort the wolves from the lambs.” The group of scientists cowered back from the mad professor.

  “How could anyone be afraid of someone wearing that dorky hat?” Dov asked of no one in particular.

  Broadbent smiled around his fangs. He patted his plaid bonnet. “I’ve been told it lends an air of frivolity to my otherwise serious demeanor.”

  “Someone’s been lying to you, Prof. It’s more like an air of insanity.”

  “Guardians.” It was only one word, but Canaan’s meaning was clear. They held their tongues and turned their attention back to business.

  “We need to get below. Broadbent, you and Dov finish up restraining those that need it in here then go on to the kitchens. Take Isaac and someone he trusts with you. Col, take the reception area. You can handle one guard. Station yourself in the central hall by the stairs. “He pointed to the two remaining Guardians. “You two with me.”

  Maximillian ad Doren set his glass down carefully on the small table beside his chair and hoped the others didn’t notice the tremor that tinkled the ice cubes. It was too early for scotch, but he felt the need for something to settle his nerves. Salvador had offered it to him while the doctor went to fetch his Supermen, as he now referred to them. They walked through the door; ad Fenton, two guards, and the two Supermen; one taller than the other, both immense in proportion. For the first time Maximillian regretted how quickly his body metabolized alcohol. How could anyone think they could introduce these genetic freaks into society.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said shakily as ad Fenton latched the heavy steel door behind him.

  These creatures before him weren’t men at all. They were monsters. Their faces had grown and distorted. Their eyes were vacant holes of black. Fangs, much longer and larger than any he had seen before, protruded from their upper gums. Their bodies still looked normal, but he could swear he saw the muscles pulsating beneath their jackets. He wasn’t alone in his shock. Salvador stiffened beside him.

  “Why haven’t they been fed?” the Captain asked coldly, “And why have you brought them here looking like this? Their care is your job.”

  Ad Fenton locked the steel door behind him. “And providing their meals is your job, Captain. Dinner never showed up.”

  One of the creatures leaned toward its guard and sniffed loudly.

  “No,” the guard snarled and brought up the wand he held against his thigh. Electricity sparked at the tip and the creature stepped back. “Sorry, sir,” he said to the doctor. “You know how they get when they haven’t…” He glanced nervously at Maximillian. “I can bring them over to the kitchens to feed on…”

  “No! You mustn’t.” He turned angrily to Captain ad Primus. “I told you demon blood was critical at this point. They’ve been weaned from both Paenitentia and human. To let them drink now would set us back weeks, maybe months. You assured me you could keep us supplied.”

  Maximillian could no longer hide his shock or his fear. He scrambled over the back of his chair and stood behind it as if it could shield him from the monsters, not genetic freaks, but real monsters. “Blood? Demon blood? What is this? What have you done?” He pointed an accusing finger at the doctor. “You said it was genetic research. And you!” He turned to ad Primus. “You assured me the deaths were due to over-aggressiveness, that it would be addressed. Neither of you said anything about this! I thought the killings were mistakenly attributed to vampires. These… these things are real!”

  “You didn’t know because you didn’t want to know,” ad Primus snarled. He held up his hand to forestall another comment, listened to the phone he held to his ear and frowned. “She’s not answering.” He pointed at the second guard. “Did you check the house?”

  “N-no. sir. You told us to…”

  “Do it now. I want a report as soon as you get there. Don’t just stand there. Go!”

  The guard opened the door to a resounding crash from the other end of the hall and the echo of
gunshots.

  The whole operation had been too easy, almost boring, until one of the security guards opened the basement door, saw the three Guardians descending and slammed it shut with a shout. The air in the hallway seemed to expand and contract as full battle rage took them. Bodies hardened around expanded muscles. Faces settled into frozen masks of determination. Glistening fangs extended far beyond the norm for other Paenitentia.

  Nico tried the knob, found it locked, and stepped back as Canaan and Nardo turned in tandem and struck out with their powerful legs. Their heavily booted feet hit the door mid-height and it thundered into the cavernous basement room as lock and hinges were destroyed.

  Their kicks stepped into shoulder rolls, to the left and right and the bullets fired passed through the air where they once stood. Nico followed them through, releasing a series of throwing stars with a speed that blurred the movement of his hand.

  Nardo rolled to his feet, knives ready, and sliced through the wrist of the nearest uniform. The man screamed and his gun clattered to the floor. With his heightened senses, he felt the bullet fly past his cheek. Without a second’s thought, his eyes followed the path from which it came and his hand followed. His knife sliced along a trajectory to the right of the bullet’s and lodged in the shooter’s heart. This man only grunted before he fell.

  Canaan’s shout of warning rose over the confusion. Nardo followed his liege lord’s gaze to the far and darkest corner of the room. In the dim light, he could see the darkened outlines of cells and the shaded forms within and knew instantly what Canaan’s shout was for. A guard was unlocking the cells.

  The guard threw open door after door. “Kill them!” he screamed, but the sharp coppery smell that pervaded the room took the caged creatures beyond following orders. Blood called louder than man.

  Incensed, the creatures saw no threat, only victims. They lunged, attacking the guards who were closest, throwing the men to the ground and tearing at their throats. Nardo recognized them right away as kin to the creature he’d fought before. More animalistic than that one, perhaps, but they would no doubt have the same strength and agility.

  “Vampire!” he shouted as he slid the long blade from the harness at his back and continued the movement overhead and down into an attacking vampire’s neck.

  A quick survey of the room showed Canaan wading into a tangle of bodies and Nico tossing a guard behind him and attacking the vampire beyond. Broadbent came charging through the door with the twins on his heels. The odds were now in the Guardian’s favor and the battle would be over in minutes.

  “I thought there’d be guards,” Hope mused.

  The two women had moved to the front seat where they had access to the heater if they became too cold and the radio if they became too bored which JJ figured would be in another two minutes.

  “There were,” she answered, keeping her voice calm and casual. She pointed to the shadowy lumps partially covered with snow. “Two down by the bay door, one by the back exit. There was probably one on the roof, too.” She reached for the radio.

  It wasn’t boredom, though she tried for Hope’s sake to pretend it was. It was straight up, gut twisting anxiety. She’d let her partner go into an unknown situation and she wasn’t there to back him up. She closed her eyes. “He’s not John,” she reminded herself. “He knows what he’s up against.”

  Aaron Tippin was singing about being afraid of nothing but losing you and the lyrics were too close to home. JJ switched the radio off.

  “Who knew Nico was a country fan,” she said, but it didn’t come out as flip as she wanted it to.

  “You really love him, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

  JJ nodded, unable to say the words aloud.

  Hope nodded. “That’s good. Nico was a little worried at first. For Nardo.” She laid a reassuring hand on JJ’s shoulder. “Because he fell so hard, so fast. It would have been devastating if you didn’t feel the same way and since you were unconscious…” She snickered a little as she told as she told JJ of the night the twins brought her home. “I think he would have blood bonded with you then and there.” The laughter stopped and she suddenly looked worried. “You’ll mate with him, won’t you?”

  This time it was a question and when JJ’s head bobbed once, Hope asked, “And would you choose a blood bond?”

  JJ stared out through the windshield. A blood bond was for life and as a Daughter of Man, once bound, her life would be very, very long. She thought about what Hope said she felt for Nico and their bond and she thought about how she felt when she was being drawn through the mirror. She opened her mouth to reply, saw headlights flash on a van parked across the lot and said instead, “We’ve got company. Call Canaan.”

  Chapter 43

  The guard stood with the door open, staring back into the room with frightened eyes. Shouts and cries of anger and panic carried down the hall. The sounds of mayhem triggered a frenzied response in the vampires under his watch. In an instant, chaos erupted.

  Doctor ad Fenton waved his arms and screamed at the guard. “Close the door! Close the door!” and to the other, “The prod, the prod! Stop them! Stop them!”

  The second guard raised the wand, but had no time to trigger the release of the electrical shock. The shorter of the two vampires grabbed the hand holding the prod and twisted. The guard screamed as the bone cracked and the prod fell to the floor, but it wasn’t enough for the enraged vampire. He lifted the man as if he weighed nothing and threw him into the counter that separated the small living room from the kitchenette.

  Terrified and unable to move from his place behind the chair, Maximillian looked to ad Fenton for direction. He found none. The doctor dangled in the air, lifted off his feet by the iron hand gripping his throat. The vampire shook him like a dog with a rat and then brought the thrashing body to his mouth and bit down on the spot where ad Fenton’s neck met his shoulder and began to drink. The doctor’s legs stiffened and relaxed.

  Maximillian felt a hand grip his shoulder and screamed.

  “Stop screaming and run, you fool.”

  Salvador ad Primus didn’t wait to see if his orders were obeyed. He opened the door behind him and charged through the bedroom to the door on the far wall. He opened it cautiously and peered out into an empty hall. The shouting and screaming was coming from the right. Ad Primus turned left and sprinted down the passageway that would take him to the loading dock. He could hear Maximillian running behind him. The man’s pleading kept time with his footsteps.

  “Oh God, no. Oh God, no.”

  Salvador curled his lip at the disloyalty. God had nothing to do with this. It was those damned Guardians who were attacking these facilities. Who else could it be? He’d wanted to eliminate them earlier, but foolishly listened to that idiot Director with his promises of financial ruin and disgrace. Look where non-violence had gotten them.

  The situation had turned into one giant cluster fuck and his only goal now was to survive it and begin again. The girl was still out there and if the rumor was true, Canaan’s bitch would be whelping another one just like her. He could lay low, make plans and salvage something from this fiasco. He needed to stay in the High Lord’s good graces if he ever wanted to replace him. And why shouldn’t he be the one to replace the High Lord when the old man finally succumbed to the disease that riddled his body. No one knew what it was, but it was Salvador’s belief that it began the day that Joy-bitch lit the old man up like a Christmas tree.

  The cries from the far end of the building had ceased. He was running out of time. Salvador stopped at the bay door to listen. Hearing nothing, he cracked it open. No one was there. The only sound was from directly behind him, so close he could feel the man’s spittle on his neck. The Director’s pleadings had turned to incoherent whimpers.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Salvador hissed. What had possessed him to bring this incompetent asshole along? What purpose did it serve?

  The loading bay was empty and the door to the outside stood open. A qu
ick detour to the small office yielded a set of keys. He had only to click the button to see which vehicle they belonged to. They walked out into the night.

  Salvador heard the sound of pounding feet at the same moment the Director screamed. One of the vampires was hurtling toward them, his face and shirtfront covered in blood. The Captain suddenly knew what purpose the Director served. With all his might, he shoved the screaming man into the vampire’s path, turned and sprinted toward the awaiting van.

  Hope nodded her head at the voice on the phone and turned to JJ. “Canaan’s sending one of the men. We’re supposed to stay… JJ!”

  JJ wasn’t listening. She was out of the car and moving toward the approaching men. She couldn’t see their faces, but the way the one in front moved was instantly familiar. Hadn’t she seen his shadowy form a hundred times over moving through the darkness of the basement where she’d been kept in that cage?

  It was the High Lord’s Second and she wasn’t going to cower in the front seat of a car while he made good his escape. He had made her life hell when she was a defenseless girl. Well, she was a woman now and no longer defenseless. It was time she took her revenge.

  She only paused a moment when she saw the vampire emerge from the black hole of the doorway and saw the coward sacrifice his companion to the snarling creature. She stood in front of the van he was aiming for. Blue fire crackled at her fingertips.

  “Remember me?” she said and sent a streak of blue fire toward the center of his chest.

  He anticipated the move and dove to the side, rolled and threw out his arm. It was a move she’d seen too many times in the gym while practicing with the twins only this time the knife was real and not a wooden prop. She fell to one knee and ducked low. The knife clattered against the hood of the van.

  He didn’t wait to see if his knife made its mark. He lunged as she rose which was what Dov always did when they sparred and why she always managed to take the young Guardian off his feet. She shrank down, head tucked, as if overwhelmed by the coming attack and at the last moment lifted up, using the force of her back and legs and his own forward motion to carry him over her back and flip him to the pavement behind her.