Physically and emotionally damaged by the horrors of her past, no one is more surprised than meek and silent Faith Parsons when she feels compelled to stow away in the van of the taciturn Liege Lord, Lucien ad Toussaint and travel to his House of Guardians in the faraway Southwest. She's even more surprised when some of the local women see her as the one who will heal the 160 year old wounds that are destroying their way of life.
Lucien, too, is haunted by his past. He has withdrawn from the world around him and lives a reclusive and duty-bound life. He never expected that a tiny Daughter of Man could open the doors to a heart he's kept closed for so long.
As the attraction between Faith and Lucien grows, the events of both their pasts begin to replay in the present. Must history repeat itself, or can their future be changed?
Guardian's Faith
A Novel of the Guardians of the Race
by
Jacqueline Rhoades
Smashwords Edition
Copyrighted 2013 by Jacqueline Rhoades
Cover art: E-Covers by Georgi
Smashwords Edition, License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not buy it or it was not bought for your use only, then please return to the place of purchase and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
My Thanks
To my father, James Miller,
From whom I inherited
My love of reading and books.
God Bless
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Books by Jacqueline Rhoades
Prologue
Among the Guardians this story is told…
When humans first came upon the earth, God sent a sect of his Children, angels as it were, to instruct those humans in righteousness. These Children, these sons of God, were seduced by the Daughters of Man. In their beguilement they taught these Daughters of Man the arts of magic and witchcraft to please them and to entice the women to take them as husbands and in the fullness of time the women bore forth the Nephilim, mighty giants who were known as heroes and renowned for their strength and prowess and huge appetites for all things of pleasure.
Time passed and under the influence of the Daughters of Man, the Nephilim lost their way. They abused their gifts, used their size and strength to make war for their own advancement and eventually began to feed on the blood and lives of humans. Over the centuries they forgot the strictures of their fathers.
God was not pleased and He set a curse upon their kind. He sent his Angel Gabriel to make war upon them and The Great Flood to annihilate those that remained. Still, a few survived and those few saw the error of their ways. They could not change what they were, but they could change the way they lived. Thus the Paenitentia were born. The Penitents. The Race.
They refused to take the blood of humans and in atonement for past sins, pledged to protect their members and humankind from the ravaging of those demons that escape through the portals from the Otherworld that was created when God closed the Gates of Heaven. They have lived among and yet apart from their human cousins for centuries, forbidden the light of day. We are their descendants. We are the Guardians of the Race.
But among the Daughters of Man, the story differs…
When humanity was in its childhood, God sent a sect of his Servants, angels some say, to instruct those humans in righteousness. These Servants became fascinated by the beauty and comeliness of the Daughters of Man. This fascination soon turned to lust. In order to lure the women away from their families, the Servants bestowed upon the Daughters gifts of abilities beyond the realm of man. The women were beguiled by these gifts, seduced by the Servants who appeared as men, and taken as wives. In the fullness of time the Daughters bore the fruits of their seduction. Their sons were called Nephilim. They were giants of great power and glory, renowned for their immense appetites for all things of pleasure and war and the traits of the fathers were passed to the sons.
So it was for the women also, their gifts being passed from mother to daughter so that the lineage of the mix of Servant and human continued and the Daughters of Man became a race unto themselves.
Time passed and the Nephilim lost their way. They abused their power, took pleasure in pain and torment and began to feed on the blood of humans. The Daughters who loved them and had been faithful to them were forsaken. God sent Gabriel to make war upon them and the Great Flood reduced their numbers further.
“
Under threat of annihilation, the Paenitentia were born. They saw the Daughters of Man as the source of their downfall and renounced them, severing all ties.
The Daughters of Man quietly continued, suffering the indignities of persecution, making their way as best they could, passing the gifts and knowledge down from one generation to the next, Daughter to Daughter. They no longer bore sons.
They were forced to live the lives of humans in the human world. They learned to adapt to maintain their anonymity. As we do today. We are their descendants. We are among the Daughters of Man.
Chapter 1
Having only recently crawled from the dark cavern of her madness, Faith Parsons seriously considered crawling back in. At least it was quiet there. For a while, her mind had cut off most sight and sound, most thought for that matter, and Faith found she sometimes missed the absolute silence. The silence within her mind wasn’t deafening as some writers claimed. She thought of it more as restful, serene, and healing.
There was a lot of healing going on in this House of Guardians lately and while she didn’t mind using her powers as a Daughter of Man to help repair the injuries they inflicted upon each other, she wished they could batter and bash each other a little more quietly. When they weren’t screaming at each other in mock Battle Rage, they were laughing and joking and thundering around the house, egged on by the twins, Dov and Col, who weren’t yet Guardians but were full-fledged trainees and certainly old enough to begin acting like sensible adults. Faith sometimes wondered if they ever would or could act like adults and now there was a Houseful just like them.
Following the recent trouble at Moonlight Sanctuary, the Paenitentia enclave several miles outside the city, and the popularity of Nardo’s video games, there had been an upsurge in young Paenitentia men signing up for long-unfilled positions within the Guardians of the Race. This House had become a central recruiting location for these candidates. Here they were put through a rigorous i
nitial training meant to weed out those who didn’t have the right stuff. Those who passed would be fostered out to other Houses to complete their instruction.
Faith wasn’t sure how Canaan, the Liege Lord of this House, had earned this dubious honor, but there it was. There were eight new recruits living here now along with the seven people who called this House their home. Add to that number her sister, Hope, and Hope’s Guardian mate, Nico, who lived across the alleyway and the old but harmless vampire, Otto, and his mate Manon, and you had quite a crowd around the dinner table and none of them were quiet.
The place was like a bus station with people running in and out, in and out, and like those in the bus station, most of them were strangers. Faith hated strangers. They frightened her and she'd had enough fright in her twenty-five years to last a lifetime, thank you very much. It was her problem she knew, and no one else's fault, but there it was.
With strangers, all of them male, coming in waves of two or three or four, she was constantly on edge. She would no sooner get used to one batch than another would be flowing through the garage entrance, coming upon her unawares, bumping her with the door and laughing or shouting to each other. It was the saving grace of having no voice. With one, she would have spent half her time screeching from startlement.
And that was another thing, she thought as she stripped the sheets from one of the guest rooms' beds. Guests. At least that's what everyone else called them. Faith thought of them as cattle buyers coming in from out of town to get an up-close look at the House's current stock of muscle bound bulls. Every week or two, someone new arrived.
None of the other women seemed to mind. Grace, Lord Canaan’s Lady and pregnant with their first child, fussed over them all like a mother hen, clucking over the recruits' injuries and stuffing the visitors with the goodies that constantly flowed from her oven in the huge kitchen at the back of the house. Hope spent her days taking care of the business end of Nardo’s games. She closed her office door and didn’t come out until it was time to set the table for supper.
JJ, Faith's best friend and the only known genetic mix of Paenitentia and Daughter of Man (other than the child Grace carried), was Nardo’s mate. She worked beside the men in the gym, training recruits. For Faith, it was the only thing she enjoyed about the comings and goings of the House; the look of shock and awe on the faces of the new recruits when JJ set them on their all-too-macho asses.
She smoothed out the wrinkles of the fresh sheets and pulled up the blanket, making sure it was perfectly even on either side of the bed before pulling the downy comforter into place. She dusted the dresser and night stands, straightened the pillow on the overstuffed chair and resolved to vacuum later when she did the hall. This was all she was good for - hotel maid for a House of Guardians.
Faith felt her job as healer was superfluous. Yes, the golden glow from her fingertips aided the healing process, but the Paenitentia were remarkably fast healers to begin with. Unless a bone was broken, or a wound was particularly deep, her services weren’t really needed. As a matter of fact, things outside the House had been so quiet lately none of the Daughter’s talents were necessary.
Like Faith, all the women were Daughters of Man, an ancient collective of women whom some called blessed and others called witches. No one knew how many Daughters still existed in the world. History had not been kind to their numbers and many succumbed to insanity or death if their powers weren’t fully realized. There was a time, not too long ago, that Faith would have preferred death to the life she was forced to lead. Faith tried not to think about that too deeply.
“Why the pensive face, poppet? Have the Terrible Two been leading their band of miscreants on another rampage?”
Broadbent, also known as the Professor and the Guardian Faith felt most comfortable with, came down to stand beside her, his long beaklike nose preceding his head around the corner to look into the parlor and then down the hall to see why she hesitated at the foot of the stairs. There was no one there.
“What is it, then?”
Faith sighed, smiled and signed. “Nothing unusual. Too many people. Too much noise. Wondering what I’m doing here. What purpose do I serve?”
Her body had healed and so had most of her mind, but her voice was gone. Sometime between her rescue and her return from her emotional exile, her voice had disappeared. Working with JJ, she developed a sign language, part American Sign Language and part her own, that allowed her to communicate with the members of the House. Even the recruits caught on quickly.
“You’re our healer.”
“Cuts, bruises and broken noses. They heal themselves.”
“You help Grace with the cooking and cleaning and I know she finds it a great comfort that you’ll be here when her time comes.” He lifted his hand to touch her shoulder and winced inside when he saw her flinch. “I beg your pardon,” he said as he drew back.
“No.” Faith caught his hand and brought it to her opposite shoulder so that his arm was around her. “My fault. I don’t mean to do it and I know I hurt you every time I do. I’m sorry.”
“Hush now, poppet. I feel privileged that you allow me the honor of touching you at all. I know how hard it must be and I admire your bravery.” He led her into the parlor and when he had her seated on the antique settee, he closed the door to give them privacy to talk. He settled his long body next to her tiny one, angling his long legs so that their knees were almost touching. Almost.
“I’m not brave,” she signed. “Hope and Grace have stood up against Demons. JJ hunts them while I…”
“Survived. Lived. And I am so very glad you did. Every day, I admire your courage in facing your fears and overcoming them. You are gentle and kind, a true lady.”
Faith shook her head. “You don’t know me, what I’ve done, who I was before.”
Her life had become a series of Before and After. Before her mother died and After, when she saw what a cruel man her father was; Before she ran away to avoid her sister’s fate and After, when she ran wild in the city; Before she was captured by a demon and forced to be his plaything and now, another After. The other Afters had held hope and plans for the future. Faith saw no future now.
“My dearest Faith.” Broadbent reached for her hand, but waited until she nodded before taking it in his. “Who you were doesn’t matter. Who you are does.”
Who am I? She asked herself and answered. A scarred husk of a woman who has nothing to offer. She had her healing touch but what good did it do here where no one needed it and she was too terrified to leave this House of Guardians to offer it to those who did.
The other Daughters, Hope and Grace and JJ, had left lonely, unhappy lives to come here and discover new ones with purpose and men who loved them. There was none of that here for her and yet, she was afraid to leave. The city terrified her and where else did she have to go.
“Faith.”
Broadbent’s voice called her back from her maudlin reverie.
“There’s something I wish to speak with you about, something over which I have thought long and hard.” He slid to his knee in front of her. “Faith Parsons, it is my consummate desire to have you as my mate. I promise you I will care for you and shelter you and protect you from all you fear with every breath in my body, every beat of my heart. I will be loyal and faithful and I will share with you all that I have. You will never be in want.”
Faith’s eyes widened in shock and Broadbent misunderstood.
“I understand, dearest, that consummating such a union would be too much to ask, but I am willing to wait until you find it in your heart to trust me with such a precious gift. You needn’t share my bed unless you choose to. My parents have spent their mated lives in separate bedrooms as do most others of their social set. It wouldn’t feel unusual to me. Please, my dear sweet Faith, consider my proposal. I offer it with the most honorable of intentions.”
How she wished she could say yes and be what he wanted her to be. If she’d met Broadbent when she first came to the
city, she would have laughed at his gangly body and funny clothes. She would have made fun of his flowery speech. Faith was glad she hadn’t met him then. If she had, she never would have gotten to know this gentle and generous man. She would never have heard the stories of his bravery and loyalty from his fellow Guardians.
Sometimes, on her worst days of mental withdrawal, it had been Broadbent’s voice, kind and always cheerful, that brought her back from the depths. He read Jane Austen to her and it was just what she needed; gentle stories of another time where civility ruled. Jane Austen would have liked Broadbent for his courtesy and honesty. She also would have frowned at his offer of a marriage without love.
Broadbent loved her, but not in the way a man should love the woman he asked to be his mate. And she loved him. How could she not love this dear and noble man? But she couldn’t be the mate he deserved. She couldn’t love him in that way and she wouldn’t torture him with waiting for her to change. That part of her was dead. She ran her fingers along his cheek down to his chin and then she signed.
“You flatter me beyond measure,” she told him and hoped he heard Miss Austen in her words, “To think a man so honorable and good should make such an offer to one such as I is a compliment beyond any I have had before or likely will hear again. But I would be remiss to accept such an offer from a man who does not love me.”
Broadbent started to protest, but she stopped the movement of his lips with her finger.
“Nor I him.” She smiled to soften the blow. “We love each other as brother and sister should, but that is not the kind of love to bring to your mating bed. You know it’s true. Not once in your proposal did you offer me your love. You couldn’t, you dear, sweet man. You couldn’t lie about something so important.”
“Strong matings have been built on less.”
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