In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1

by Savage, Fanny Lee

  Claudette pulls me to where the guests have started to dance again. I look, but Henri is lost in a sea of people. Faces around me glisten, their skin moist from the warmth of the room. Above the dancers, the heads of the masked people start to weave in the crowd. Hands are touching me, lips press against my skin. Claudette is close, her fingers moving over my waist and around my back, pressing herself to me. My heart is racing, the music and champagne making me dizzy.

  A face flashes. A lion, almost psychedelic in front of me. I close my eyes and suck in a breath. Hands move under the material of my dress. A man in a panther mask rubs against me, his flesh slick from the oil, grinding his excitement into the exposed skin on my thigh. I put my hands on his chest and shove back. A large male steps between us, their bodies intertwine and move bumping into me. The lights keep flashing, forming a grotesque scene. The male kisses at the panther’s neck. Moans fill my ears. Deep trickles of scarlet slide over the masked man’s collar bone.

  My chest tightens, my arms tingle. More hands spin me. Henri stands before me. He reaches out and pulls me forward, his arms wrap around me tight. I am moving in the sea of bodies, caught in a wave of erotic sensations and sounds.

  Claudette is at my back now and her hands move over my exposed thigh, now slippery from the masked man. My throat clenches, a veil of black desire falls over me as Henri runs his palms over my shoulders and chest. Sweat glistens over his face. He kisses my shoulders, his tongue gliding over my skin to my neck. I grab at his tux as his hand slips through the long slit at my thigh, under my dress and up between my legs. Claudette’s breasts press into my back, her hands over my neck.

  Panic takes hold and I shove back, away from Henri, spinning to break free of Claudette. The erotic scent of warm flesh and sweat fills my nose. My pulse thumps, drowning out the moans of the people around me. My skin tingles, my legs are weak and I push through the slick tangle of bodies, desperate to escape. Tears sting my eyes, Henri tries to pull me back, but I lash out and hit him. His mouth opens as he says my name, but I’m turning and slipping through the bodies around me.

  I burst through, finally free, and the cool night air blasts over my skin. I suck in grateful and try to calm the panic rising in my throat. Tears spill out, and I run. Away from the dark carnal desire that snakes out and weaves around my skin.

  The lights and flames from the sick feast behind me fades. I stop in the rose gardens trying to catch my breath. Small delicate bushes frame the stone center. A tall statue of a woman with her face in her hands stands weeping, consumed in her loss. The pale moon lightly touches her fingers and the folds of the dress that sags around her ankles. I want to sit and weep beside her.

  The familiar metal taste fills my mouth. “Seems like a poor idea. A beautiful woman, sitting alone in a dark corner of the gardens, while the celebration feast takes place,” Aydin says.

  “Nice intro, Aydin. Do you always play before the masked humans come out?”

  “Yes.”

  My stomach roils. He is one of them. I keep telling myself that he isn’t, pretending he is something he is not. The tears start again. I wish I can make them stop, but I’m so angry with myself.

  “Henri was supposed to explain what this evening was about.”

  “Well, obviously he didn’t.”

  “Rather depraved is it not?” Aydin asks, quietly. He can see my tears and feel my anguish. My repulsion at him, at Henri, at them all.

  “You would know.” My voice cuts through the dark like a switchblade. I want to leave, but I have to pass by the sick scene to get to my room. He steps closer, but I hold up my hand. “Stay away, Aydin.”

  He stands frozen. The air is charged and I know I have hurt him. “I don’t take part in these, Charlotte.”

  “Because you can’t,” I say, with more disgust than I intend.

  “Not even before.” He moves again to stand near me, but I back away. “Is that what you think of me? That I joined in these gatherings and slithered around like Henri? My hands touching people, under their clothes, without consent?”

  I am surprised by how violent his voice sounds. I press my eyes closed and try to push away the thoughts of Henri’s hands and Claudette’s sickening smile.

  “I don’t know, Aydin. I don’t know you.” It is true. I don’t. He knows me, yet, I know nothing of him. He is not even human. He was my Guardian. He keeps my secrets, saved my life and ruined it all in one fell swoop. I lean back against the statue.

  Again, he moves closer, so that I can see him clearly. His tuxedo is perfectly tailored to his thin frame, his jet black hair framing his gaunt cheeks. I rub my face in my hands. The guilt is too much. I want to make it all right, to remove the unjust punishment. He didn’t have to lie. He doesn’t have to suffer. Not for Emily, certainly not for me.

  “Charlotte.” Aydin’s voice pulls at me, centering me. He catches my eye and my stomach drops. I don’t want to be this close to him. He will feel how confused I am. He will now what he does to me. He is not even supposed to be here, alone. Aydin reaches out and pulls me toward him. I grab his arms, the muscles are hard and lean in his forearms. He is made of thick sinew, that is all that is left of him.

  “It appears Charlotte, I am bad for your health.” Aydin hooks his finger under my chin and forces me to look up, his thumb rubbing my bottom lip. “You seem to forget to breathe when I am near.”

  The pulse in my neck throbs and a lump forms in my throat as too many emotions fall over me. Aydin bends down, his face next to mine. His hand rubs down my arm, goosebumps come up under his touch. His skin heats and it reaches out, covering my entire body. Aydin’s breath is on my face, cool and minty. His thumb goes over my lip again and my knees grow weak. My heart pounds so hard it is all I can hear. My eyes close, his lips barely touch the tip of my nose. Aydin’s cool breath falls over me in a rush and I am let go.

  “Do I get a kiss too?”

  My eyes pop open and I step back. Lucius and Claudette stand, eyes wide, brows up, staring. I try to slow my breathing, my hands shake and I lean at the base of the statue to steady myself.

  “Of course, my brother,” Aydin says. He steps to Lucius and kisses him hard on the lips, before he walks away.

  My mouth must have dropped open because it has suddenly become dry.

  “I meant from you,” Lucius says, dryly. My voice has vanished and I cannot seem to find it. Claudette stands, her eyes wide with a devilish smirk on her lips.

  Lucius steps forward and takes my hand in his. He leans down and looks me in the eye. His expression tells me nothing. “Aydin is not allowed to touch you, Charlotte. Don’t tempt him.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Sleep refuses to visit me. I am exhausted from the night before and the disgusting celebration I witnessed. And, of course, my almost kiss from Aydin. At least I think that’s what it was going to be. Yes, it was. I can feel his desire every time I am around him though it is soft and sweet. Not obsessive and creepy, which is exactly how I feel. The fact that I am constantly thinking of him is more than likely unnatural, considering his role in my life. But he has taken up residence in every corner of my mind and refuses to leave.

  I walk down the corridor past the parlor. It is late afternoon, the sun won’t set for another few hours, the entire chateau is quiet. The sound of my sandals click on the marble floors as I head toward the back of the castle and the gardens. I imagine everyone is sleeping after their rather lascivious evening. My stomach twists and my heart aches. Henri is a sick bastard. He’s been living in this world for too long.

  The door to the paintings room stands open. Laughs and whispers come from the doorway. They are deep, coarse sounds. Throaty, and sensual. I walk into the room, my eyes immediately landing on Lucius and Aydin. They sit, their bodies squeezed together on a sofa, their heads bent close, conspiring. One set of light gray and one dark blue pair of eyes, stare back, half smiles over their lips. Two cats that ate the canary. I refuse to admit it isn’t an unwelcome sight.r />
  “What are you doing?” I ask, more out of shock from seeing them so close together. My cheeks burn. My mind immediately conjures up the image of Aydin kissing Lucius. Good grief. I’m no better than the rest of them.

  “I have never met a woman who’s mind is so constantly in the gutter,” Lucius smiles at me. His secretive smile and my entire face turns red. I debate leaving, simply so I can save myself from more humiliation.

  “Please, Charlotte, join us,” Aydin says, and gestures to sit near them. He is acting like we weren’t caught last night in the garden. I look to Lucius, his warning resounding in my head.

  “I was just talking about you,” Lucius grins. “Or more accurately, your delicious friend Janice.”

  I point my finger at him, like I am some kind of real threat. “You stay away from her.”

  Lucius sits back, his arms out, complete innocence on his face. “I would never hurt your lovely friend.”

  “Just keep your hands to yourself.” I can’t help my laugh. I highly doubt Janice would have minded if he hadn’t. She would love his silky curls and overbearing muscles. Not to mention that pouty mouth.

  “I can’t make any promises. Considering how beautiful she is,” Lucius smiles. It is still unfathomable how I walked around my little town, hitting the local spots with Janice, never once seeing Lucius. He is so stunning, it would be impossible for him not to draw a crowd. He looks like the kind of man that would pull a woman into his arms and shower her in kisses, after he did some rather wicked things to her. My face blushes at the thought.

  “Lu here was just telling me the details of one of your adventures with Janice,” Aydin says. The smile on his lips is large, and... I’m not sure what it means.

  “Oh? And what adventure would that be?” I ask.

  Lucius’ smiles deviously. “Aydin was enjoying the story of your late night swim. The time you ladies decided, in what turned out to be a very thrilling evening for me, to take a dip in Doctor Spencer’s pool.”

  Embarrassment doesn’t cover the dread that fills me. We hadn’t just taken a swim, we had in what may, or may not, have been a very drunk decision, to skinny dip and wait for Doc Spencer to return home. Thankfully, we grew bored before he did. Lucius, had indeed, gotten quite a show.

  “You are a complete degenerate,” I say, disgusted.

  “Just doing my job, its just a shame Aydin had missed that one.”

  “I have seen plenty,” Aydin says and pushes his hair back from his face, smiling slyly. I want to choke him. He leans back in the sofa and spreads his arms out behind him. His gray suit brings out his eyes, giving him an ominous look. How had I missed him? He had been there the night of our birthday, watching Emily and I dance and flirt with every man in sight. The sudden realization that he had been there, my entire life, hits home.

  I sit down near them, my legs weak, and my stomach lurches. I rub my hands over my shorts. Had he been following me in college? I want to slink from the room.

  The two men, or whatever they are, watch my face, their own taking a strange look, as the embarrassment of my life unfolds in front of me. My not so innocent kisses with Henri, my drunken passes at faceless men, my mean, mouthy streak when someone rubs me wrong. Had I any personal moments? Had my entire life been on display? Had he seen everything?

  “I don’t know what you are thinking, but it’s safe to say, it’s probably not very good,” Lucius says. “Looks like we should watch our backs, my brother.”

  “I’m going to say, Charlotte just realized she has had two devastatingly good looking men following her around,” Aydin tells him.

  “Devastatingly? Well, don’t you have a high opinion of yourself,” I snarl.

  “Lu here, is far more handsome than the so-called men you paraded through your bedroom. Although, to your defense, Henri, is a beautiful boy.”

  I am too angry to open my mouth, my brain frozen in rage. Does he know the intimate details of my life? I swallow hard. It appears he has seen more than I would like to admit, which is no doubt why he keeps referencing my extracurricular activities. This seems very judgmental of him, considering what he is.

  “Aydin, stop being mean.” Lucius keeps his face impassive, “Charlotte has kept her bedroom very quiet these past five years.”

  I press my hand to my eyes. This is unbelievable. Lucius sits back, Aydin’s arm behind him on the back of the couch. So cozy. I want to slap them both. I turn my attention entirely on Lucius and change the topic.

  “You were a gladiator as well?” Because ancient brutal stories of murder are a better topic than my lurid love life.

  Lucius raises his eyebrows, slightly. “Yes. I was. I even fought with Aydin in the ring.”

  “The Colosseum?” My mind conjures images I have seen in movies: lions and chariots, grotesque scenes of merciless violence. Maybe it isn’t a better topic.

  “No. We were kept for more private fights,” Lucius says, quietly.

  I know the stories. Gladiators were usually slaves forced to fight for entertainment. The better the fighter, the more likely they could buy their freedom. Ashur had said he had bought Lucius - bought, like an animal - after Aydin was born. Lucius is older than him, at least in human years. Aydin, I guess, had been born as a slave? The thought is horrifying. How terrible his life must have been. To be owned, controlled by someone else. Your very life in their hands.

  “It is fascinating watching your face as you think,” Lucius says. “One can almost see the pieces falling into place.”

  “Well, it seems you like to watch,” I shoot back.

  Lucius holds his hand out and looks to Aydin. “Do you see? She’s become even more of a pain in the ass with age.”

  Aydin sits, perfectly still; a statue watching my every move. He looks worried I will ask about his life. I settle back in my seat and pull my smart phone from my pocket. Most of my sleepless night was spent researching vampire myths. Since one seems to want to kiss me, not that I am exactly protesting, I figure I should know more about them.

  “There are hardly any mirrors around the chateau,” I say. “Do you have a reflection?”

  “What?” Lucius asks, dumbfounded.

  “Why wouldn’t we have a reflection?” Aydin asks, shaking his head like he can’t believe how absurd I am.

  “Vampires, they don’t have reflections, right?”

  “Where do you come up with these things?” Aydin asks, hiding his smile in his straight face.

  “It’s common knowledge.”

  “Oh, I see.” Aydin laughs then, loud. A rush of genuine amusement. Throaty and sexy, like a night made of soft, rumpled sheets, and dim lights. He turns to Lucius, still laughing, “Could you imagine, Claudette’s devastation?”

  Lucius grins watching Aydin. He turns to me, “Common knowledge? What else do you think about us?”

  “Well,” I glance back to my phone. “Says here, I can string garlic around my neck and it will keep you away.”

  Aydin roars. I love it and chuckle with him. This is the Aydin I like. “I like garlic,” he says. “If anything, it may make you even more desirable.”

  I raise my eyebrow at him. “So, then a stake through the heart won’t kill you?”

  “No, but I can guarantee it will really piss us off,” Lucius says.

  “OK, then I guess the silver bullets are out.”

  “No, no, those are for werewolves,” Aydin clarifies. He has stopped his laughter, but the smile is still there.

  “Which, don’t exist.” I like this Aydin. This version of Aydin is calm and laughs openly. God, I like this Aydin. A lot. He draws me to him every time he smiles, every time he lets me see behind his stoic facade with his star shattering smile. My heart flutters. Here in this room, he isn’t putting on a mask. He isn’t hiding. Not from Lucius, not from me.

  “You are rather silly, Charlotte,” Aydin smiles.

  “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment.” My smile is coy and teasing.

  “I like
silly.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Emily lies next to me. We are on our backs, looking up at the blue cloudless sky. Her arms are outstretched, holding something small above us. The sun shines bright through her fingers, illuminating the charm in her hands. Her angel. She holds it lightly between her fingers, turning it slowing as if it is flying. The sun catches the angel, and with each turn, flares of light spot my vision.

  Jasmine fills the air. In the spring, it carried around our home, through the open windows and filled every room. I love spring. It holds promises. It keeps secrets. Washing away long dark hours and cold nights as if they never existed.

  There is a faint chime in the background. It is familiar, sad ... lonely. I can’t place it but know it well. I turn my head to look at Emily. She is in profile, the light brings out the ember streaks in her hair. Her nose just like mine, long and sharp. Eyes the same, vivid blue. A tear falls, the warmth hits my ear with a soft thud. She is beautiful. There is an ache, deep in my very pit. My god, I miss her so much. Every ounce of me wants to reach and touch her, but I know she will disappear if I do.

  I feel for my angel, but it’s not clasped around my neck as it should be. Panic strikes, my chest tightens ... I remember. It was lost the night she died. The tears start coming faster, forming a lump in my throat as I fight them. I don’t want the moment to break apart. If I lose control, she will leave me.

  Emily turns to face me, laying on her side, her head resting on her arm. Her fingers still hold her tiny angel, twisting it. She is so close, her warm breath falls over my face, a light smell, like mint.