Guardian's Faith

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  "I don't remember much after that. I must have gone mad with Battle Rage. When I finally came to my senses, I found myself covered in blood and facing half a dozen servants huddled in the corner staring at me as if I, too, had turned. The demons had turned to dust and my mother was dead. Almost everyone was dead."

  "Marisol survived, Lucien," Faith reminded him. She used her hands to wipe the wetness from his cheeks, ignoring the tears that coursed down her own. "If it hadn't been for your arrival, she and those servants would have died, too."

  "My sister did die, Faith. The girl she was and the woman she should have become died that day, too. All that was left was the empty shell of what once was." He was weeping openly now, this strong and valiant man who taken on so much pain and so many burdens when he was little more than a boy himself.

  "When my mother realized what was going on, she hid my sister under the bed, hoping to protect her from what was about to happen. Marisol saw and heard everything that was done to my mother, saw and heard it all. She wouldn't speak of it and I, like a fool, thought it best if we just went on pretending life was the same and nothing had happened. Instead of getting better, Marisol got worse.

  "She couldn't eat or sleep. She refused to leave her room and insisted heavy shutters be installed. She would only settle when the shutters were closed and locked. I did everything she asked, but it didn't help. She would sit there in her chair rocking back and forth muttering to herself that they were still out there. She withdrew more and more until there was nothing left but an empty shell. Eventually, I sent her to my mother's people in Spain. They eventually found a home for her in an asylum run by an order of nuns who were aware of our kind and would treat her with care. Instead of fighting for her, I washed my hands of her."

  "Lucien. Enough!" Faith said sternly. "You can't judge your actions then by what we know now. No one ever heard of therapy back then. You did exactly what any other loving brother would have done. Maybe more. You didn't lock her in the attic or throw her out onto the street."

  But Lucien was no longer listening. "I, on the other hand, went about my business as the new Liege Lord, sporting my new status like a new suit, wining and dining with the best of what was left of the Paenitentia at the enclave and playing Lord of the Manor among the People."

  "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" Faith began beating that solid chest with her fists, not to hurt him, she couldn't, but to draw his attention away from this diatribe of self-blame. "Who else have you told this to? What did they say?" She shouted the words into his mind.

  The Guardian blinked. He looked at her almost as if he'd forgotten she was there. "No one," he said, sounding surprised at her question. "Who the hell was I going to tell? They all had their own burdens to carry. They didn't need mine."

  Faith shook her head at the man's reasoning. In over a hundred years, surely he could have found someone to talk this over with. "Agdta is right," she told him crossly.

  For the first time since he began, Lucien's lips quirked up in the beginning of a smile. "She often is. What is she right about this time?"

  "Men are stupid." She frowned and gritted her teeth so he would know she wasn't kidding. "Lucien," she said, making sure he would hear the exasperation in her silent voice, "Can you picture putting Adam in charge of this House?"

  "Don't be ridiculous," he answered without thought, "and don't point out that I was the same age. Times were different then. I was much more mature."

  "The young man you described to me didn't sound much different than Adam or Lalo. He was a brave young Paenitentia, who took responsibility when the need arose, but I would expect no less from a Guardian born and bred. Brave and duty bound doesn't equal wise, Lucien. You did the best you could. Quit beating the boy with your old man's cane."

  His laugh this time was a little lighter as if finally telling his story aloud made it somehow easier to bear. "It's you I should be beating with my cane. If I were old. If I even had a cane."

  "You're the one who always points out how old you are, not me," Faith protested, "and why do I deserve a beating?"

  This was what she enjoyed most about the hours they spent together. She'd become comfortable with him. She could talk to him without dropping her eyes. She could make fun of him and not be berated for it. He could tease her and she never felt belittled by it.

  "You've kept me from my dinner," he said, rising from the chair and letting her slide from his lap. He kissed her casually on the top of her head. "And now I'll have nothing to eat. I'm starving and Agdta will have put everything away."

  "So?"

  "So? What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means you go down to the kitchen and make yourself something to eat." She waved him toward the door.

  "I beg your pardon? You expect me to make myself something to eat?" He looked at her strangely. "I don't think you quite understand my position here. I haven't stepped into that kitchen more than six times in the last fifty years."

  "So?"

  "There you go again. What does that mean? So." Lucien frowned and then he brightened. "It means you could make me something, right?" He tried to look pitiful. "Please?"

  Faith started to laugh. "Are you begging? You are, aren't you. You're begging. The Grand poo-poo of Guardianhood is begging."

  "I am," he said, grinning, "and I think the word you're looking for is Poobah, the Grand Poobah."

  "No, I had the right word, Guardian. You are definitely full of S-H-I-T."

  "I don't know where you pick up such unladylike language," he said shaking his head as he followed her lead down the hall.

  "Careful, Guardian, or this not-so-ladylike lady will let you go hungry."

  "My apologies, madam," he told her solemnly and then laughed and the sound was rich and full.

  It was a sound Faith was beginning to love above all others.

  She took him to the kitchen where she showed him how to make himself a sandwich with exaggerated slowness and instruction and before they had time to eat their creations, they were joined by Lalo and Adam, who were there to raid the fridge, too.

  "Oh shit. Uh, didn't mean to interrupt." Lalo looked as if he'd found them naked.

  Lucien's grunt said neither stay nor go away.

  Faith bumped his thigh with a swing of her hip. "Invite him!" she ordered without moving her hands.

  Lucien sighed. "Oh hell, all right. Come on in," he told them but he didn't look happy about it.

  Lalo gave Adam a chin up sign to follow him in. "Whatcha eatin', uh, my Lord?"

  "Try calling him Lucien or Boss Man," Faith suggested with her hands and when Lucien glared at her, she laughed at him and said privately, "Give it a break, Boss Man. They know who you are and they respect you, but it's the middle of the day and nobody's working. This is your chance to be one of the guys and get to know them on a more personal level."

  Lucien frowned. "But I don't want to," he said aloud.

  Lalo shrugged. "Okay. You can keep it a secret if you want to. Any chicken left?"

  Faith laughed. "We've got ham, chicken, and Swiss cheese with tomato, pickles, and jalapenos, heavy on the mayo. Wish we had some chips."

  Adam raised a finger and disappeared into the pantry. He returned with an unopened bag and used his thumb to point at his Liege Lord. "We'll blame it on the Boss Man when Agdta complains."

  Later, when all traces of their presence had been wiped from the counter and table, Lucien walked with Faith back to her bedroom door and stopped her hand as she reached for the knob.

  "If I understood the trai… the boys correctly, this is the point where I say, Will you invite me in?"

  The smile disappeared from Faith's face and he watched the laughter and light in her eyes blink out. Lucien sighed and then lifted her chin with the tip of his finger until she was looking up into his eyes.

  "This is why you remind me of her, Faith." His voice was firm, but not unkind. "You get that same blank look on your face as if all that makes you who and what you are suddenly
dies before my eyes again and again and again. Marisol did that, too. Every time I saw a spark of life or happiness in her, I would have to watch it die when she retreated back into the hole she'd dug in her mind.

  "Don't try to fly away from me, hummingbird. I won't make the same mistakes with you as I did with my sister. I won't pretend that hole doesn't exist. Don't try to run away. I'll find you. Don't try to hide. I'll seek you out. Stay with me. Talk to me." He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her scars. "I couldn't stand the loss of another woman I care about."

  He kissed her then, lightly and swiftly, and then he was gone and Faith was left standing with her fingers touching her lips and her eyes staring down an empty hallway.

  Chapter 21

  Something had changed in the village. People who'd smiled openly at her before now kept their heads lowered as they passed by. Even those who greeted her did it with a quiet smile and a nod. Briza was right. The villagers were taking sides.

  The question was why.

  Faith headed to the far end of the main street to a two story red brick building with Mercantile carved into the stone edging below the roof. Below, over the modern looking double doors and wide display windows a professional sign declared it to be Mendoza's.

  Agdta had given her a list of things to buy and order for the House and the boys had lists of their own, mostly junk food with a few personal items like razors and deodorant.

  The place was a wild combination of an old time General Store and a modern big box store crammed into a very small space. Bicycles, oil lanterns and chainsaws hung side by side from the ceiling while rows and rows of shelving provided for the display of every possible form of goods. Like the original General Store, the service counter was at the back, a long wooden counter that still held jars of candy and tobacco products along with a mechanical cash register that may have been the original.

  The reception here was the same as on the street, though within the confines of the walls, the whispers weren't carried away by the wind. Faith wasn't sure if she was meant to hear them or like so many others, the speakers thought because she was mute, she was deaf as well.

  "I have to run. I kept my son home from school today. He's sick. I thought it would be all right to leave him to run to the store, but I didn't know she would be in village."

  "We had no trouble before she came. She brought this here."

  There were a few sympathetic looks as she hurried through the crowded aisles, but no one spoke on her behalf. A wail rose from the back of the store.

  "…was a good man. He would never have done this on his own. He took good care of us. Who will take care of my poor babies now?"

  Agdta had declared the men involved to be good for nothing but making babies they couldn't support and Vasco called them shit-for-brains, a term that delighted Lalo and Adam since the old man had learned it from them. Álvaro said they were lazy complainers who were always looking for an easy way out of their troubles.

  The general consensus at the House was that these men, all drinking buddies, had somehow cornered or captured a demon, and one of them got the idea that kissing it would make them more powerful when all it did was make them sick.

  That was why the demon shifters had seemed so ungainly. It wasn't enough to be able to shift into a new form. The shifter had to adjust to the new body as well. It took practice to be able to control the movements of the animal you kissed. You had to allow your body and mind to become that animal. That took a mental and physical discipline that these good-for-nothings probably didn't have.

  As was often the case, the dead had now become saints.

  Faith gathered what she could from the shelves and headed for the register where a surly looking middle aged clerk greeted her with cold eyes. When she offered her hand so they could communicate, he refused. For the first time since the day she purchased it, Faith resorted to her pad of paper and a pen. She crossed of the items she'd found from Agdta's list and then made another for herself. Across the top of her list, she wrote in big bold letters THE PATRON REQUIRES THE FOLLOWING and hoped Lucien wouldn't mind being labeled as a guy in need of certain feminine products.

  The clerk waited until she dropped the lists on the counter before he touched them, read the contents and gave her a curt nod. He then rang up her purchases and registered the amount in a ledger. He refused her money. Then with a malicious grin, he waved her off like a pesky fly, looking past her to his other customers to see which ones had noticed his contemptuous display.

  Not very long ago, Faith would have accepted his rudeness. She would have hung her head and scurried away. Not so today. Today she wanted to hurt this supercilious bastard. She wanted to make him feel the humiliation he was attempting to inflict upon her. She felt her anger rising and with it the burning tingle in her fingertips that presaged the coming of the golden fire.

  It was the same feeling she had when she was angry with Álvaro and it frightened her, but this time, she didn't run. She suppressed the anger and instead, gave the clerk her own malicious smile and signed.

  "Have a nice day, asshole."

  Then she tapped her fingers against the counter and watched his look turn to horror as the golden sparks flew.

  A girl standing close by snorted and then sucked in her lips to prevent the snort from becoming a laugh. She gave Faith a thumbs-up to show her approval though she kept it hidden behind a pyramid display of canned peaches. Faith didn't recognize the girl, but she'd met and touched quite a few people at the cantina and the girl was probably among their numbers. She quietly nodded her thanks and received a shy smile in return.

  Faith had hoped to spend an hour or two visiting with Goyo's mother and seeking out Briza's shop, but in light of her reception by some and the hesitancy to acknowledge her by others, she set her plans aside and returned to Álvaro's truck. It would be best for all concerned if she waited there for his return.

  Someone whistled and a feminine hand waved at her from around the corner of a building a few doors down from where the truck was parked. The laughing girl from the store peeked out, looked both ways to ensure the coast was clear and waved Faith over. Faith felt like a character in a spy spoof as she casually walked along the street, turned the corner, and was dragged inside an awaiting open door.

  "Can you help me?" the girl whispered holding onto Faith's hand and pulling her behind some wide wooden shelves.

  She went back and propped the door open to let in some light, dimly illuminating a storeroom filled with harnesses and bits and bridles and traces and everything else a horse owner might need.

  "It's my uncle's place," the girl informed her, grabbing her hand again. "He closes shop when he's out shoeing. Horses. You know. He's a Farrier. He's always late on Wednesdays. He pretends he's really busy, but he's not. What he's really doing is stopping off at Juanita's - that's the lady he's seeing - for a morning quickie." Laura shivered and made a face as if the thought was distasteful. "She works at La Cantina and sleeps late in the morning."

  Faith didn't remember the face, but she did remember the rapid fire speech from their meeting at La Cantina. They'd shaken hands, but had had no time to talk. Just as Briza had recognized her, so Faith recognized the girl and now she recalled the look of surprise on the girl's face when their fingers met. All Daughters of Man felt their kinship through touch.

  Faith shook her hand free before her fingers were crushed. "What do you need help with?" she asked when the girl paused for breath. "And first, shouldn't I know your name. I know we've met, but…"

  "That night got a little crazy. I know," the girl finished for her. "I thought my stepfather was going to have a stroke. He was furious with my mother for taking me. He thought we were visiting the neighbors. Sorry, I'm Laura. Hey! I thought you had to touch people to talk."

  Laura was a pleasant faced girl with dark gray eyes, a wide mouth and dark hair with a reddish tint that she wore pulled up in a ponytail at the back of her head. In a pair of jeans and tee shirt, she looked like
a typical teenaged girl, but she wasn't typical and she knew it.

  "One touch is enough," Faith signed. "What can I do for you, Laura?" she asked again before the girl could go off on another tangent.

  "Tell me what I am and show me how to do what you do." Laura said, looking around once more to make sure they were alone. "I want to do it, too."

  The girl was wary of being discovered so Faith quickly explained the story, wishing she could tell it the way she'd heard it for the first time. "You're a Daughter of Man," she ended, "and that means your mother is, too. Maybe you should ask her…"

  "All my mother will tell me is that someday I'll meet a nice boy and we'll marry and everything will be clear. You'd think we were talking about sex or something." Laura rolled her eyes. "I had to figure that one out on my own, too. She also said I should keep my secrets to myself by which she means don't tell anybody, but mostly my stepfather."

  "Your stepfather doesn't know?" How could you live with someone for all those years and never share your gift?

  "Hell no," Laura laughed, "He's the guy you called an asshole back there. My parents own the store."

  "Sorry."

  "Don't be. If he's going to act like one, he can't complain when someone calls him on it. He used to be a pretty nice guy except when boys come around. This thing with the demons really set him off."

  "He's frightened and he should be," Faith defended the man she'd just called an asshole. "Demons are scary things."

  "But they weren't demons. They were just drunks who kissed a demon," Laura argued like the teenager she was.

  Faith had doubts about that, but she didn't know the People or their abilities well enough to argue. She wanted desperately to talk to Lucien about it, but that would mean explaining where she'd felt the sickness before and that would lead to… She swerved away from the thought.

  "Laura, what have you felt from your talent? Have you done anything yet, even accidentally?" The girl was very young, but Grace had shown some signs when she was young and so had Hope and JJ. Faith had felt nothing until it was too late.