Guardian's Grace

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  She forced her eyes to meet his. “You are my business. Every Guardian in this House is my business, so stop your snarling and let me see to your wounds.”

  He scowled at her and his face began to change. He showed his fangs. She held his eyes and pushed with her mind.

  “Stop it,” she said forcefully and when she saw the surprise in his eyes she lightened her voice and smiled. “Nasty looks and sharp teeth are nothing new to me. I’m nothing like the delicate female that’s swooning downstairs. You ought to know better.”

  She latched the door behind her and stepped to the bed relieved that his face had returned to normal. She eased the coat from his shoulder and fingered the jagged edge of the raw wound. Turning him to face her she saw the hole of the entrance and the scarring that continued across his stomach.

  “You were shot,” she said choosing to ignore the scars, “And you’re lucky it missed the bone. Let me get some soap and hot water to clean it up.”

  She watched the smoke rise from the wounds and this time she heard it sizzle in the wound. She could smell it. Nico grimaced with the pain. She poked her finger at his nose.

  “Don’t you ever give me that I-don’t-need-help crap again, mister. You never could have gotten the water inside that hole on your own. What were you thinking?” His teeth were still locked against the pain and she took full advantage. “You didn’t want me to see those scars? Fine. I didn’t see them. It’s your secret to keep or tell, but you need to know, Nico, in this House it won’t matter how you got them and it won’t make a difference in how they see you.” Grace smiled and patted his cheek. “Now, would you like your bandage taped or wrapped?”

  *****

  “I’m telling you there were three of them and one of them was not your typical slash and dash demon. We were set up. They knew who we were.”

  Dov nodded his head to verify Nico’s account. His injured jaw made it difficult to speak. He was propped up against the arm of the couch looking much better than he had a few hours ago; his wounds already showing signs of healing.

  Nico continued, “We followed the first one behind the bank. It was dragging a young woman by the hair. She was screaming and kicking trying to fight him off and I thought it odd that he didn’t try to shut her up. I know now that he didn’t want her to shut up. He wanted our attention and he got it. Dov went after him. I went after the woman who took off once he let her loose.

  “She ran around the corner but when I got there she was gone. This guy steps out of a doorway and fires point blank. It was a demon, my lord, I’m sure of it, but he kept his human form. That’s why I hesitated. The bullet spun me and when I righted I heard Dov call for help. The shooter was already up the block and no longer a danger so I ran back to Dov.

  “Dov has the first demon’s heart in his hand, but now a second one has him pinned. It raked him from stem to stern then grabbed the knife from the ground. I hit him in the back of the neck with a star. Took his head and brought Dov home.” He looked around the room at his listeners. “I think the woman was part of it. I can’t swear to it, but just as the shooter rounded the corner away from me, I think I saw the cloth of her skirt right ahead of him.”

  “Isn’t this exactly what we’re here to investigate?” Callista spoke from her seat on the arm of Canaan’s chair. She appeared fully recovered and now wore a cashmere twin set with pearls and matching wool slacks. Every hair was in place and her make-up expertly applied.

  Grace had chosen to sit away from Canaan on the floor next to Dov. She felt haggard and knew she looked it as well. She’d managed to change her shirt which was soaked with water and splashed with blood. Col had helped her pull a slap dash supper together while Broadbent good-naturedly set the table and helped serve the meal while putting up with laughing harassment from Col. They were becoming friends.

  “Good heavens, Callista, weren’t you listening?” It was the normally silent Broadbent who answered. “A higher level demon has crossed over and this demon is exerting some control over lesser creatures. Humans may be involved. This has nothing to do with the Council’s point of concern.”

  Callista rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, Broadbent, and this has everything to do with the Council’s point of concern. If this House were run as a proper House of Guardians should be, none of this would have happened.” She looked pointedly at Grace. “Traditions are not to be mocked.” Her voice became sympathetic when she placed her hand on Canaan’s chest. She ignored his stiffened body and clenched fists. “You have allowed your personal feelings to cloud your judgment. I know how much Otto meant to you and I know you feel that the problem has been solved but the fact remains, he is vampire and the proper solution is clear. Add to that his involvement with a Daughter of Man,” she shivered in distaste, “and you can see where it leads. As for your own needs, the Council certainly understands your, how shall I say it, appetites of the flesh, but there are ways to satisfy them within the proper bounds of tradition.”

  “Callista, you’ve said enough,” Councilor Addison cut in. “Broadbent is right. These are separate issues. If this is an Outbreak, then Lord Canaan will need more men. The Council should issue a Call to Service and I will recommend it.”

  Callista rose, threw up her arms and huffed angrily, “Don’t you see? The Council won’t issue a Call to Service for a House like this. Vampires and whores, that’s all they’ll see. Don’t look at me like that, Canaan. You know it’s true. You’ll lose the votes you already have. You’ll lose everything.” Her voice became pleading, but the threat was clear. “I can fix this with the Council, Canaan, we can fix it together, but you must fix this House first. If you don’t, you’ll fight this battle alone.”

  Canaan stood and said wearily, “Then I fight alone.”

  Dov used Grace’s shoulder for support as he struggled to his feet to join the others as they stood, but it was Broadbent who spoke for them all.

  “Not alone, my lord.” He saluted with his fist to his chest. “I serve at my Liege Lord’s command.”

  Chapter 33

  “My lord?” Nardo stood in the doorway with his fist to his heart.

  Something in his voice stopped Canaan from rolling his eyes and giving the younger Paenitentia a hard time about using the antiquated salutation. Instead, he pushed his chair back from the desk, stood and nodded formally. “Come in, Bernardo ad Tormeo, ask what you will.”

  Nardo took two steps into the office and stood at attention. “I have fulfilled the training that is my right of birth. My body is ready. I have reached my maturity in years and have full knowledge of what my petition entails. My mind is ready. I have felt the call to service. My heart is ready.” He went to one knee. “I humbly request entrance to the honorable society of Guardians.”

  Canaan placed his hand on Nardo’s bowed head. “I have witnessed the training of your body. I have observed the dedication of your mind. I believe in the truth of your heart. The Council will be petitioned and once granted, the altar made ready for your supplication.”

  Canaan stepped away and Nardo rose.

  “Thanks.”

  Canaan laughed. “It should be me thanking you.”

  Nardo looked uncomfortable. “Canaan, what if the Council refuses your petition?”

  The Liege Lord went to the bottom drawer of his desk and withdrew two glasses and his bottle of Talisker. He poured and handed a glass to Nardo saluting him in the process. “I’ll find another Liege Lord to sponsor you.” He gave a short, wry laugh. “I’m not completely without friends, you know.”

  Nardo didn’t smile. “What if I wanted to make my pledge without the Council?”

  “What if it doesn’t work? Nardo, I can find another House to accept my word on your worth but if you prostrate yourself before the altar without the Council’s blessing and you supplication is denied, we’ll never find a House for you because the Council will never approve a petition with your name on it.”

  “I don’t want to serve any Ho
use but this one. I don’t want to spend the required three years anywhere but here. Canaan, we need to know where our power comes from. If I’m accepted before the altar, the Council will lose much of its power over us, all of us. If I fail, I’ll continue to serve this House for as long as I can in any capacity that you allow, for as long as you allow it.”

  “You’ll always have a place here. You know that.” Canaan poured two more fingers into each of the glasses. “I don’t want you making this into a political statement. That’s not what this should be about.”

  Nardo took a sip and savored its smoky warmth. “Your right, it shouldn’t be and on a personal level it isn’t. That’s my point, really. What gives the Council the right to deny my petition simply because they’re upset with you? This is my calling, Canaan. I didn’t say the words of petition because it’s a tradition. I said them because they have meaning,” he tapped his chest, “in here where it counts.”

  Canaan nodded. “I understand. This is a personal decision and it’s yours to make. I’ll make the arrangements with the church and then I’ll petition the Council.”

  *****

  The news reports were encouraging. The rash of recent killings and disappearances in the Mission District were being attributed to gang wars over drug territory. Politicians issued sound bite comments to assure the public that everything that could be done would be done, and then went home to their cozy houses in the suburbs. The neighborhoods involved weren’t politically important enough to demand action. Most of the residents didn’t vote.

  The police rounded up the usual suspects who claimed they knew nothing and shouted loudly about the violation of their rights. With no witnesses or solid evidence, there wasn’t much more for the police to do. In private, some of the city’s elite discreetly admitted that the elimination of certain members of the Mission District community was actually a public service and as long as the activity stayed within the confines of the Mission District, it was easy to turn a blind eye.

  The whole area was a hothouse where the weeds of drugs, prostitution and gambling flourished, fertilized by every moral weakness known to man. Homelessness was not a problem. The city’s unwanted and unloved squatted in the vacant warehouses along the river. When they disappeared, no one missed them. It was the perfect place for Abyar’s minions to feed and it had been Andi’s idea.

  Having men bow to the floor as she entered a room had gone a long way to alleviate the humiliation of the claiming ceremony. That they still looked at her with lust filled eyes unnerved her at first, until she recognized the power it gave her. They’d cleaned themselves up to gain her notice and would do anything she asked. Abyar had killed the first two who snarled at her and the rest had fallen into line. She wore Abyar’s brand and she was to be obeyed.

  Thanks to Abyar, the takeover of the restaurant went smoothly. He immediately reassured the staff that few changes would be made and all would keep their jobs. If they had any opinions about her position as manager or her change of address to Abyar’s apartment above, they kept it to themselves. Andi made a point of being fair and friendly to all.

  Mr. Cappaletti had boasted of the speakeasy that had occupied the basement of the restaurant during Prohibition and it didn’t take Abyar’s crew long to discover the bricked up tunnels that had once provided storage for illegal liquor and escape from possible raids. The main tunnel exited to a basement two doors down. Abyar stored his minions there, the ones that couldn’t be let out alone, the ones that Andi wasn’t allowed to see.

  She poured his favorite brandy and set it beside his late night cigar. He was bringing home a business associate and everything must be perfect. Bottles of the best liquor sat ready to be poured at the visitor’s request. When she heard them on the stairs, she did a last minute check in the mirror to be sure that she was as perfect as the room.

  She was at the door to greet him. “Darling, you’re home,” she gushed and pressed herself against him for a kiss. She stepped back in surprise. “Oh dear, I didn’t know you were bringing a guest.” She brought her left hand up to cover the deep plunge of her neckline drawing attention to the large diamonds on her finger and at her throat. “Do come in.” She offered him her right hand with the diamond and ruby cuff. “I’m Andi, by the way. Let me take your coat.”

  “My wife,” Abyar took up the introduction. “This is Mr. Burrows, my dear.” He handed off his coat as well.

  Andi poured Mr. Burrows’ drink and chatted for a few minutes, waiting for a signal from Abyar.

  “Andi, my dear, it’s getting late and Mr. Burrows is a busy man. I know how business bores you, so why don’t you toddle off to bed and I’ll join you when I’m finished.”

  “Of course, darling. It was so nice meeting you, Mr. Burrows. I do hope we’ll meet again.” She kissed Abyar’s cheek and left the room.”

  Once the door was closed, she did a little jig. Finally, Abyar had found someone willing to do business. If he’d asked her to get Mr. Burrows another drink, poor Mr. Burrows would have ended up like his two predecessors. Dead.

  Liquor was a hot commodity in the otherworld and very hard to get. Minions or fifth level demons could cross the barrier easily, but were unreliable. They got sidetracked by the money or the liquor itself and the words ‘on pain of death’ made no impression at all. Fourth level demons like Tyn and Ragor could cross alone only at certain times of the year until Abyar found Andi. She had the power to bring them across at any time she chose as long as she had fresh blood and in a house full of demons, that wasn’t hard to come by.

  By the end of the night, they would be in the liquor business and soon the money would come rolling in. Drug distribution would be the next stop on the road to wealth and power. What the police and a few of the drug lords thought was the beginning of a turf war was actually an orchestrated plan to destabilize the trade so that Abyar could move in and take over. He’d thought about prostitution as well but Andi discouraged the idea. She didn’t want the competition. She told Abyar that they’d lose too much of the human inventory to his demon thugs.

  All in all, they were doing very well.

  *****

  “Where do we stand on the Guardians?” Abyar looked around the room eyeing each of his henchmen individually. He liked to see them squirm.

  “We killed two, Sire,” Ragor reminded him. “Mistress was there. She told you. I shot one through the heart and a minion ripped the heart out of the other. We saw him hold it up.” It wasn’t exactly the truth but it was close enough. The mistress had been so excited she’d repeated everything he told her as if she’d seen it herself.

  “That was weeks ago. I want to know what’s happening now.” These fools would repeat the same story over and over as if it was new.

  “We’re keeping them busy, wearing them down, cutting them up pretty bad and just like you told us, we’re keeping them out of the Mission District.” When Abyar glared at him, Tyn added, “Sire.”

  “It’s not enough. I want them eliminated. Things are moving more quickly than I anticipated and I want nothing in my way. Where are we on the purchase of the tunnel building?”

  “Two robberies and a beating. The tenants still won’t move. It’d make it a lot easier if you’d let us make the owner disappear.”

  “Absolutely not. Andi believes too many deaths on one block will draw the attention of human authorities. This isn’t the Mission District. The humans consider this a good place to live and work. She says we need to find a realtor, someone who gets paid to arrange this sort of thing. Let them make an offer that’s more than the property is worth and then offer the tenants a large bonus to move out.”

  “You’re going to spend our money to move humans?”

  Abyar rolled his eyes. He was surrounded by idiots. “We’ll get it back once they move. We can’t kill them here. Andi says this is the better way.”

  “That’s not how we do things,” snarled a demon behind him. “Since when do we take orders from a human whore?”


  Abyar changed form and whirled with claws extended. The demon’s heart was in his hand before the demon knew it had been struck. Eyes wide in surprise, it fell writhing to the ground and shriveled to nothing. Abyar was back in human form in an instant. He took the time to brush down his lapels and straighten his tie before addressing his remaining troops.

  “Andi is mine by right of claiming. She is your Mistress. To insult her is to insult me. I hope I’ve made my point. You have your orders. Follow them. I want no excuses.”

  He hurried from the room and up the stairs. He had to see Andi. The change to his demon form was too fast, too easy. Someone was calling him from the otherworld and he wasn’t ready to go back. Andi was his link to this world. He wouldn’t give her up.

  Chapter 34

  Broadbent was one of them now and his quiet, steady presence served as an anchor in the midst of chaos.

  Canaan was angry; with the Council for refusing to help, with the demons for their escalating presence and injury to his men, and with Grace for withdrawing from him physically and emotionally. Dov and Col were more boisterous in defiance of the fear they felt every time they went out on patrol. Otto fumed more because he could no longer take action. Nardo was distracted dividing his time between sorting through computer data and patrol duty. Nico was sullen and withdrawn. Grace did what she could to keep the House running smoothly and everyone fed. She had her own demons to deal with but refused to face them.

  Broadbent was always there; listening, observing, learning, training every minute that could be spared, treating the injuries that had become a nightly occurrence and serving as a driver for the others so they could cover more territory and be rapidly returned to the shelter of the House when wounded.