Guardian's Faith

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  "Ha-have I earned my place, Señor?" the man asked cautiously.

  The brujo had forgotten the man was there. He looked him up and down from his dirty, scuffed boots to his unwashed hair. The man was a ne'er-do-well, a malcontent who didn't have the courage to leave the village and strike out on his own. Not the ideal candidate, but it couldn't be helped. Recruits were hard to come by among the villagers who were satisfied with their lives and the brujo had no other pool to draw from.

  "So be it. Be here for the ceremony on Friday, one hour after sunset and know that if you breathe a word of this you will instantly die." He pointed to the rat nibbling away at her treat and suddenly the animal stiffened and fell to its side. "Do you understand?"

  The recruit, staring at the motionless rat, nodded slowly.

  The brujo smiled. He could create smoke with a wave of his hand or fire with a flick of his wrist, magician's tricks he'd learned from books, but the rat was the most effective for frightening the hell out of gullible fools and it was one he'd invented himself.

  "Good," he said and the man jumped, bringing another smile to the brujo's hidden face. "Those who are loyal to me will be rewarded. Those who betray me…" The brujo let the conclusion hang waving the man off with a flutter of his hand. "Run along now, and don't be late. Tardiness will not be tolerated."

  When he was sure the frightened recruit was out of earshot, the brujo went to the rat's cage and touched his finger to the lifeless chest. Feeling no tiny heartbeat, he shrugged and shook his head. The cage was wired for an electric shock that would simulate the creature's death and he kept the button trigger hidden in the pocket of his robe. He must have held it down just a little too long. It was a shame, really. He'd liked this one. She'd been an affectionate little thing and was plump from lavish feeding. He picked her up by the tail and dangled her at arm's length.

  "You can have her if you fetch me another and this time see that you don't damage it," he said to the owl sitting on an upper ledge of the cave. Damaged goods had little value.

  The owl blinked slowly and dove from its perch, spreading wings that covered half the width of the room.

  The brujo smiled, knowing he'd have his replacement pet within the hour. Rats were like people, easily replaced.

  *****

  "I need to go into village," Faith signed during one of the many silences at dinner. "I want to see Goyo and there are things I need. I thought I'd go tomorrow."

  Lucien raised his eyes in surprise. It was the first time the girl had spoken freely at the table and he was relieved. He knew he should lead the conversation, but he'd forgotten how and his attempts always fell flat. His mother always held court at their table and his sister, Marisol, had been such a happy, gossipy thing that there was never a lack of dinnertime conversation.

  He remembered all the things that were appropriate for drawing a young lady into conversation, but they didn't apply to Faith. He couldn't very well say he admired her dress. She would take it as an insult or a reprimand since she wore the same baggy cotton pants with a different baggy tee shirt day in and day out. He thought if he told her how lovely she was looking, she would see it as a reminder of how unlovely she looked before.

  What could he say? You look like you've gained weight? No woman wanted to hear that. Your shiny curls frame your face like a halo now instead of a flat, dull cap? Your face has lost its translucency and now looks golden from your time in the sun? Her cheeks were the color of the velvety roses that used to grow at the front of the house. Freckles had blossomed across the tops of those cheeks and over the bridge of her nose. Lucien found them charming, but remembered how his sister had cried over the appearance of just one.

  Álvaro filled in the silence that met Faith's comment. "Goyo is fine. There's no need for a visit. Another week and he'll be back at work."

  "And at school," Lucien added absentmindedly.

  "Of course, Patron."

  Lucien turned back to Faith. "If you make a list of what you need, Agdta will see to it. There is no need for you to go."

  "Am I a prisoner? Under house arrest?" It certainly felt that way.

  She was already banned from working with Diego for a week. It was supposed to be his punishment for not telling someone where they were going, but Faith was feeling it, too. She'd continued to rise at the same hour and spent her time clearing the central courtyard of debris, pulling weeds from between the stones of the floor and scouring the fountain. It was lonely work without Diego's chatter.

  "Of course not. I simply thought to save you the trouble."

  Lalo swallowed the last of his enchiladas and carefully looked over the platters on the table to see what else he could fit in before dessert. "I'd like to go," He said casually. "You know, a chance to meet some of the locals. I think it would be good to know the folks I'm supposed to protect. It's not like they don't know about us. I can take Faith to see Goyo. She can get what she needs and then I can wine and dine her at La Cantina." He looked over at Lucien and shrugged again. "I heard the cowhands talking about it and you gave us tomorrow night off, my Lord," he added with a wink, "What's a night off if you don't have a date?"

  "Faith will not be your date and she will not be visiting the local roadhouse," Lucien said through gritted teeth and then realizing what he sounded like, he added, "She's much too young."

  "I am not!" Faith signed, but no one was looking.

  "She's not that young…"

  "I could go as a chaperone, my Lord," Adam volunteered.

  "Then who'd chaperone you?" Lalo countered. "You in a room full of girls is like putting a cat in a room full of mice. Pounce. Pounce. Pounce." He bounced his fingers across the tablecloth and then made his hand into a claw and snatched the salt shaker. "Until you catch one."

  "Ha! A lot you know. I never pounce. I lie down and purr out my charm until the mice come to me." Adam looked his friend up and down and sighed heavily. "You could use a few lessons."

  "Hey! I do all right."

  "Sure, if you consider becoming best friends with your right hand…"

  "Gentlemen," Lucien warned, "Young lady."

  Two sets of eyes looked eagerly to the door to see who'd entered. Adam caught on first and his face turned red.

  "Oh, sorry Faith."

  "Why are you apologizing to…?" Lalo began but his question changed. "Ow! Why'd you kick me?"

  "Because you have shit for brains, that's why. I'll explain later." Adam looked across the table and laughed lightly. "We knew he meant you."

  Faith accepted the lie with a smile, but their reaction hurt. She was right back to where she was at Canaan's House; a cherished piece of furniture or a favored pet in a roomful of people. Lalo's comment about a date was a joke, not an offer. Not that she wanted an offer. That part of her life was over before it had a real chance to begin, but it would be nice to be seen as a woman and not a pet or worse, a child.

  When she complained once to JJ, her friend said it was partly Faith's fault. If she allowed people to treat her like a little girl, she would remain one. She tapped on the table and sat straight in her chair.

  "Lord Lucien," she signed, using his title to show she meant business, "I'm not a little girl and if I'm not a prisoner here, then there's no reason why I can't go to La Cantina with Lalo even if it is a roadhouse." She wasn't sure what a roadhouse was but assumed it was a bar like the ones she used to frequent.

  "La Cantina is a family place that serves liquor. It's not a bar. You'd know that, Patron, if you'd stop in once in a while," old Vasco interrupted. There was mischief brewing in his eyes. "I'll tell you what. Why don't we all go? It will do us good. Agdta will enjoy eating food she doesn't have to cook and she can act as duenna. No young man would dare take liberties with our little angel with my daughter keeping watch. You should come, too."

  "I have my duties to attend to. I will be on patrol. I don't think it wise for the trainees to go, either."

  The old man shrugged. "Suit yourself, Patron, but do not try to
paint these men with the same brush with which you have painted yourself. They have too much life in them. In the end they won't stand for it. They will leave us as others have before and then where will we be?"

  "Father! He is the Patron." Álvaro shook his head and turned to Lucien. "Forgive him, Patron. He's an old man who forgets his place," he said with a warning glare at his father.

  "I haven't forgotten my place. I'm an old man who will have his say. It's you who have forgotten yours, Álvaro. Don't interrupt your elders," Vasco growled back. "These young men will be here a long time. They should get to know the people, grow to love them. How else will they be able to tell local from traveler?"

  Álvaro's eyes slid to Faith before he gave his father a sour look. "They already know how, just as the Patron knows," he muttered. He wasn't happy about it either.

  Lalo and Adam studied their empty plates.

  "Just as I know," Faith signed, looking pointedly at Álvaro. She didn't have a clue what they were, only that they were different, not quite human. Seeing Álvaro's cold face she was tempted to stick out her tongue at the man.

  "The boy," he growled.

  "The boy? Diego?" She waved the thought off with contempt. "Diego talks. He doesn't tell. He didn't have to. I knew it the moment you entered the van. That's why you didn't bring him to Canaan's, isn't it?" she asked Lucien. "You knew they'd feel it, too. It's the People's secret and you're sworn to keep it."

  "As are Adam and Lalo on their honor as Guardians," Lucien told her solemnly.

  "Then I guess I'd better swear, too."

  Álvaro curled his lip at her offer and Faith felt the heat rise to her face and something else rise within her that she hadn't felt in a very long time; anger. She tried to stuff it back down, but it came out through her hands.

  "I don't know what your problem is, Mr. Vigilante, but at this point I really don't give a S-H-I-T." She had to spell the word because she couldn't think of a sign. "I didn't come here to hurt anyone and if you need proof of that, go visit Goyo. For your information, I know a little bit about secret societies. I have sisters out there who will die or end up insane because they have no idea who and what they are. I wish I could find them a place like this so they could hold up their heads and be proud. I can't.

  "Our secret has been buried so long even we don't know how many of us there are. Like the People, we've been here since the beginning of time. You can call me whatever name you like, Álvaro. I don't care. I know what I am. I'm a Daughter of Man and I'm proud of the sisters who took me in. They're good and kind and caring and if you have a problem with that, you can go straight to hell."

  Faith felt the golden fire at her fingertips. For the first time since she'd discovered its power, it burned. She stared at her hands, horrified, and quickly tucked them into fists and jammed them down at her sides.

  No one said a word. Adam had sucked his cheeks so far in it was a wonder they didn't meet in the middle. Lalo's eyes were so wide they looked as big as his mouth which was hanging open in astonishment. She felt Vasco stiffen beside her and Lucien was staring at her in shock, but it was Álvaro who drew her full attention. The color had drained from his face. His jaw was clenched and his fists pressed against the table. Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

  Faith looked back at Lucien, with shocked eyes. Vasco was staring at his son. Why? What had she said?

  You can go straight to hell. Did they think she meant it literally? Did they think she could do it? Fingertips curled into her palms, she felt their heat searing into her flesh. No!

  Faith stood, toppling her chair in her haste. Did they think she'd issued a curse, condemned Álvaro to hell? She stared at the men at the table who thought she could do such a terrible thing. Her hands failed her. Lucien started to rise, too. He held out his hand to her and that movement spurred her own.

  Faith fled to her room and locked the door.

  It took Lucien a moment to realize what was happening. He'd been so shocked by the vehemence of Faith's outburst, the flare of fire at her fingertips, he'd didn't think of the effect her words would have on Álvaro and Vasco.

  It had been so long that he'd nearly forgotten it.

  "Fools!" he hissed. He turned to the old man. "You call her an angel and yet you fear her?"

  "Angels have power," Vasco said and shrugged. "I didn't fear her. I feared the look on my son's face."

  "Words have power," Álvaro insisted. His jaw was clenched and he spoke through his teeth.

  "Not those words!" Lucien threw up his hands. "How many times have you thought to tell me the very same thing? How many times have I said those words myself?"

  "You are not a brujo, Patron." Álvaro knew the Liege Lord was right. He'd felt no power in her words, only anger. It was his own fear that caused his reaction to them, but he was too proud to admit it. "We still don't know why she is here, what she means to do."

  "You're right, my friend, I'm not a brujo, but I can become something you all should fear much more. Why wait for first death? Why not do it now? It's the only way to ensure what I will or will not become." Lucien spread his arms wide, offering his chest and therefore his heart to the Vigilante. Like the demons they fought, taking his heart or his head was the only thing that would prevent him from turning vampire should he suffer first death.

  "You know why!" was Álvaro's indignant response. "Such an act would be a sin. Murder! You cannot be condemned for what you might become."

  Lucien smiled. It was more victorious than friendly. "Then why are you so quick to condemn Faith?"

  He exited the room before anyone could answer.

  Álvaro turned on the trainees. "What are you two staring at? Get this table cleared and to the kitchen," he told them as he, too, left the room.

  In point of fact, neither of the young Paenitentia was looking at anything other than the bowls of bread pudding they studiously emptied and refilled. It was the best they could do to pretend they weren't there.

  Vasco followed his son, but looked back as he reached the door and cleared his throat to get the boy's attention. "Do the dishes for Agdta and make sure she sits. Her work has doubled and she could use the help." He winked. "Besides, the more rested she is, the more cookies she'll bake and I have always loved her cookies."

  Adam waited until the door closed before he said, "Damn! And I thought this place was going to be boring. What the hell's with Álvaro breaking out in a cold sweat over getting yelled at?"

  "And by Faith of all people. I almost peed my pants when she spelled shit. My mom used to do that. I don't know why since my dad said it loud and clear," Lalo laughed, "It's how my sister and I learned to use a dictionary. The really big one had all the good stuff." He passed his friend a tray and started stacking plates. "You get the silverware and glasses. I'll get the dishes. It was kind of cool seeing little bits lose her temper, though. I didn't know she had one."

  "Words have power," Adam intoned as he poked Lalo with a fork.

  Lalo, who was lifting a silver candlestick to blow the burning taper out, pointed it at Adam instead. "You can go straight to hell," he said in a high, girly voice.

  "You cursed brat! Look what you've done! I'm melting!" Adam cackled and crumpled to the floor in a parody of the Wicked Witch of the West. "I'm melting! Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy a mean bastard like me!"

  Lalo laughed at his friend's antics, but paused at the pantry door, his shoulder already against it to push it open.

  "Do you think she could do it?" he asked, remembering the crackle of the fire at Faith's fingertips.

  "Little bits?" Adam snorted and shook his head. "Give me a fucking break. If you think she's scary, next thing you know you'll be squealing at mice."

  "Hey! Who was it that squealed like a little girl when a spider crawled up his arm?"

  "That's different. That spider was big!"

  Chapter 14

  Lucien knocked on Faith's door and when there was no answer, he knocked a
gain and waited a moment for her to unlock it and let him in. He'd heard the slam of her door a few moments after she ran off. He knew she was in there. He could hear her ragged breathing through the door.

  "Faith, it's me. Open the door, please. I would like to speak with you."

  The breathing stopped. Did she think holding her breath might fool him? He could smell her scent through the door. It was a scent he'd only experienced once before, but had never forgotten. Even coming in from the barn smelling of horse and hay and manure, there was something warm and fresh and clean about her scent.

  Lucien had never stood in sunshine. It wouldn't kill him instantly, but it would make him gravely ill and weaken his powers until he had nothing left. It was part of the curse God had set upon the Paenitentia for their betrayal.

  Once, long, long ago, he'd seen the sun rise. He'd watched the orange ball lift from the far horizon to cast its golden glow upon the earth. Like an army of light, he'd watched it march across the plain, vanquishing the shadows in its path and repainting the earth with colors not even he, with perfect nighttime vision, had ever seen before. Everything was awash with gold as if the new day had cleansed the earth of the dust and dirt of the day before. He thought that when it reached him, it would cleanse his spirit and his soul.

  It was the first time he really understood what God's punishment meant to his kind. To live in the dark and never see the sun was not the most terrible of penance. To be denied the sun's beauty and the refreshment and renewal of body and spirit that it brought with its rays; that was the penalty, the price to be paid to save the Paenitentia from annihilation.

  That was what Faith smelled like, the dawn of a new day.

  He knocked again and then warned, "I hope you're decent. I'm coming in."

  The key on the inside turned because he willed it to. He turned the knob and opened the door.