Her lips parted in a silent scream when she felt a slender hand slip down her shorts and cup her mound. The hand slowly rubbed over her swollen clitoris before a long finger dipped deep within her wet channel. Her dream lover’s expert touch painfully aroused her and Jemima came almost immediately. Her hands had grabbed the sheets on both sides of her head when the first series of shudders rocked her body. With her eyes closed, she had gasped the name of the only person her mind and body could connect with at that moment.
“Tahlia…Tahlia…Tahlia…” She chanted the name through dry lips until the shudders subsided and her spirit floated back into her body. Jemima opened her eyes and the tall silhouette standing in the shadows a few feet away from her bed shocked her. She had blinked to make sure, and when she reopened her eyes, the shadow was gone.
The shrill ringing of the phone brought Jemima back to the present and, with a guilty start, she pushed herself away from the wall. How will Dad react if he finds out I am harboring sexual feelings for Tahlia? For all we know, she is a ghost or a dead spirit. She heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Not wanting to meet with the staff and have to answer uncomfortable questions, she quickly entered the kitchen. When she entered, her father folded his newspaper and smiled at his daughter.
“Good morning, sleepyhead. I know you for an early riser. What happened?” He took a sip from his coffee cup, put it down, tilted his head to one side, and grinned. “That explains it then.”
“What?” Jemima reached for a slice of toast.
“That…that thing on your neck.”
James’ blue eyes were twinkling, and Jemima could see that he was enjoying himself. “What thing?” She raised her hand to her neck.
“You must have stayed out late because that hickey wasn’t there when we were playing chess last night.”
“A hickey!” The slice of toast dropped from her hand as she sprang to her feet. How the hell did I get a hickey? She didn’t…Oh, no! It wasn’t a dream. I actually did have sex with someone. But how? Who? The staff was already in bed by the time I went to my room, and I personally checked the alarm before going to bed.
She saw Hortense, their cleaning lady, come through the door holding out the portable phone. “It’s for you, Jemi.”
When she took the phone, Jemima saw her father wink at her before he drained his coffee cup and left the kitchen. “Hello.”
“Hi, Jemi, it’s Martina. Are we still on for tonight?”
Jemima made a face. She wasn’t really in the mood for going out tonight, but having Martina on her side was a sound idea for her career.
“Yes, sure. Should I pick you up or would you like for us to meet there?”
Martina laughed softly. “And let some lusty hooch pick you up for the night before I even get there? No way. You can pick me up at my place.”
Jemima wrote down the address and hung up. With a frown, she went in search of breakfast.
†
Jemima stayed in her studio for the rest of the day painting furiously. It was already dark when she stood back and stared at the canvas. Turning away, she hurled the brush across the room, sending it clattering against the opposite wall. She stomped out of the studio and up the stairs to her room where she jerked off her paint-splattered t-shirt. Clad only in her jeans and bra, she fell back onto the bed with her thoughts on the painting she’d been working on. The black eyes that were looking back at her from out of the painting looked so real it rattled her. It was the woman from the Fire Stall.
Why can’t I get the woman out of my mind? She isn’t interested in me. If she were, we would’ve ended up in my bed last night. She briefly relived the few minutes they shared. She remembered the way the black eyes looked at her, the brief kiss, and how the strong hands felt on her body. They felt almost the same as her midnight lover’s hands. There was no plausible explanation to link the two.
Whoever came to her bed last night had to be a resident of the mansion. No one else had entered the house after her. It must’ve been one of the staff. But none were as tall as her late night guest. She rubbed her tired eyes determined to get to bottom of it before the week was out. She sat up, and, with a sigh, glanced at her watch.
It was time to get ready for her date with Martina.
†
Tahlia’s hands shook a little as she stood in the corner of the room cloaked in an invisibility spell. Her eyes were running possessively over the tall frame of the blonde woman as she quickly dressed. Jemima was so beautiful it actually hurt to look at her. As of late, it had become very difficult to keep herself from coming to Jemima’s room at night and seducing her. She was coping so well until last night when she lost the valiant fight.
All she’d wanted to do was go to Jemima’s bedroom and look at her while she slept, something she’d done since Jemima was a baby. But she found Jemima moaning in her sleep. When she gently searched Jemima’s mind, what she’d found had almost rocked her off her feet. Jemima was dreaming about having sex with her. It had been more than ninety years since she last felt the touch of her lover’s hand on her starving body and she gave in to her desire. She used the darkness as a cloak and made love to Jemima. Her only regret was the hickey. Caught in an earth-shattering climax, Jemima had looked so beautiful that Tahlia couldn’t resist leaving her mark. Jemima was hers.
She sucked in her breath when Jemima suddenly turned her head and stared straight at her. The blue eyes locked with hers and Tahlia stood as silent as a statue knowing that even if Jemima could sense her presence, she could not see her. Or could she? Before she could test Jemima’s level of awareness, she felt a slight shift in the air. She inhaled deeply to test the air for the newcomer’s scent. Juan. What would bring him here? She had made it abundantly clear that no one was to expose her human friend’s location unless it was an emergency. Before going to meet her personal guard, Tahlia threw one last look at Jemima. When she found the blue eyes still focused on her, a chill went straight to her bones. With a deep frown, she stared back at Jemima. Only when the blue eyes turned away, did she rush outside to meet Juan.
†
She found Juan pacing with his swarthy face pulled in a scowl.
“What is wrong, Juan?”
“Drake is back, and this time he brought a huge army with him. I am sure the last time he was here simply was to confirm the birth of Jemima. This time he comes to destroy her. I have contacted Pierre and Jonas already. They are waiting for us.”
She could sense there was something else. “What are you not telling me, Juan?”
Juan swallowed. “He has put a price on the head of Jemima and her father. Anyone who brings them to him alive will be richly rewarded.” Juan stared past her. “We will have our hands full, Tahlia. Roman and the other hunters should arrive soon, but it might be a while before they get here.”
For the first time in many centuries, Tahlia reached out and touched Juan’s cheek gently. “Do not worry so much, Juan. I will not let anything happen to them. Drake has gone too far this time, and I will stop him and his Children of Doom once and for all. Let us go and meet the others.” Her senses zeroed in on the location of the other Royals.
She scanned the area to see if anyone was around, and, with two quick steps, took to the air. Mid-air she transformed into a huge black raptor. She heard the flapping of wings next to her. Juan was close by. She knew that Pierre and Jonas were waiting for them in a deserted warehouse near the harbor and she set course accordingly.
†
“We have managed to track down Drake. He is hiding in a heavily guarded underground chamber not far from here.”
Tahlia could hear the contempt in Pierre’s voice and knew he had every reason to feel that way. A group of Drake’s minions heavily injured Pierre during an ambush more than twenty years ago when they had driven the Renegade leader and his soldiers out of New York. Since then, he was determined to catch and destroy the renegade leader. “What else do you know?”
“His killers are spread out a
ll over the city searching for Jemima. I suggest you bring them both to the safe house. There are enough rooms for everybody. We have called all our hunters to come to New York. They will be here before dawn.” Jonas said. “We can all go and collect your human friends.”
“I first need to make one more stop. Go ahead and watch the house for me while I find Jemima.”
They dissolved in a vortex of mist.
Chapter Seven
Jemima muttered a soft expletive, threw her keys on the table, and reached for the whisky decanter. She poured herself a shot and downed it in one gulp. Grimly, she relived the evening as she reached for the decanter again. It was a disaster. She and Martina never even got a chance to talk because the art critic unexpectedly had to leave the party.
After downing the second shot, she made her way to the stairs, and, with heavy feet climbed to her room. The house was quiet and-she glanced at her watch. It was ten o’clock on a Friday evening and everybody was already sleeping. It was times such as these that she missed her life as a student. There always were parties somewhere and beautiful girls to seduce. She took a quick shower and dressed in her favorite shorts and white cotton t-shirt before she slid between the cool sheets and lay there staring at the ceiling.
Her thoughts returned to what had happened the night before. It was sad to think she’d had sex but didn’t know if it really happened. All her instincts told her that it was impossible for someone to slip into the house, make mad love to her, and then dash out again without anyone noticing or the alarm going off. She didn’t even know how to broach the issue with the staff. Where would she begin? Most of the workers in their employ had been with the family for as long as she could remember. They all had helped her father raise her. She doubted if, after twenty-two years, any of them would sneak into her bed. Unless they had family members stay over. Her eyes narrowed. Was she such a slut that she would allow any woman to slip into her bed?
Another intriguing aspect about the night was that everything transpired in a dreamscape. She hadn’t had more than three drinks. Her tolerance to alcohol was such that she was nearly stone cold sober. The hickey was proof that she wasn’t dreaming. What the hell really happened last night last? Will I ever know the truth? She swallowed hard. What is happening to me? She thought she had her life mapped out. She had her own money—lots of it—a career she loved, a newfound celebrity status, and her choice of beautiful women. All those things suddenly lost their appeal. Her mind and her expensive canvasses only saw the face of a beautiful, intoxicating woman who didn’t want anything to do with her. She sighed deeply. I want my life back. She hated the feeling of not knowing what was going to happen all the while knowing that something was about to happen. The past few days were loaded with expectation as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Jemima pulled her hands from behind her head and rubbed them roughly over her face. Here she was at home before midnight on a Friday night, alone in her bed. Even though she hadn’t been overeager to meet up with Martina earlier, the woman looked good and she wouldn’t have minded them going somewhere private to spend more quality time together. She clasped her hands over her face and sighed deeply.
A slight, almost undetectable ripple in the air made her instinctively turn her head toward the window. She stifled a scream as she jerked upright. A tall, beautiful woman dressed in tight black pants, a black polo shirt, long ankle-length black leather jacket, and high shiny black leather boots was standing a few feet from her bed. Jemima’s eyes widened when she met the woman’s eyes. Calm midnight-black eyes stared at her. It’s her…the woman from the bar. How did she get in?
“What are you doing here? Who let you in?” Jemima snapped.
“You know who I am.”
This time, the midnight black eyes were looking at her with infinite tenderness and love. It was so different from the night before when those same eyes looked at her with a strange mixture of longing and fear. Jemima frowned and searched her mind trying to remember if this woman gave her a name while they were in the bathroom. Nothing. She took a closer look at the woman and then it struck her. The knowledge of the woman’s identity made her jaw drop.
It can’t be. But it was. Tahlia!
Tahlia was the only woman who would look at her like that. Last night she had been trying to figure out who the woman in the bar reminded her of. It was Tahlia. All this time I’ve been seeing Tahlia. She looks just like she does in my dreams.
“I am sorry for startling you. That was not my intention.”
The voice was slightly different from the one Jemima heard in her mind. To her naked ear, it sounded fuller, huskier, and disturbingly sexy. She hadn’t even noticed that about her the night before. Maybe it was because she didn’t know she was standing face-to-face with the elusive Tahlia.
Jemima felt heat creeping up her cheek. Oh my…I made a pass at Tahlia last night. What will my father say? Oh, what is Talia thinking about me now? No, we are both attracted to each other. Why else did she kiss me? She looked up and saw the black eyes’ soft glow.
When Tahlia took another step closer, Jemima stiffened and pulled away. Tahlia halted her advance.
“Please don’t come any closer,” Jemima said. She saw the hurt in the dark eyes before it was quickly replaced by a blank look. “What are you?”
“I wish I could have warned you beforehand, but I need to talk to you and your father urgently. We need to leave here now. It is not safe for you to be here anymore.”
Jemima felt Tahlia’s intense eyes burn into hers.
“Your father will be here shortly.”
Jemima gave her psychic abilities free reign and studied the enigmatic woman. A strong shudder went through her, and she quickly withdrew her senses. Tahlia was a very dangerous woman. Jemima felt herself starting to squirm under the dark woman’s intense stare, and the air in the room grew heavy with tension.
There was a soft knock on the door. When her father entered, Jemima sighed in relief. Her father looked every bit of his forty-four years. His blonde hair, grey at the temples, was sleep tousled, but his eyes were alert for a man who had been fast asleep a few minutes earlier. Jemima saw his blue eyes sweep the room until it rested on the tall, striking woman standing near the window. His jaw dropped.
“Tahlia?” James walked over to her. “Good grief, when you said you were waiting for me in Jemima’s room, I didn’t know what to expect, but I never dreamt that you would be so…so magnificent.”
Jemima watched her father reach out his hand as his face split in a broad smile.
“We have never met officially. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, too, old friend. How the years have passed so quickly. Just the other day you were this very young handsome man who turned heads, and now you are sporting grey hair. You still look good though.”
Jemima, watching them share a warm look, was slightly irritated that her father had completely ignored her since he entered the room. She cleared her throat. “Tahlia wants us to leave here tonight. Apparently it is not safe for us to stay here anymore.”
Her father frowned. “What’s going on, Tahlia? In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never panicked or lost your cool, so I assume it’s serious.”
“There are people out there who are trying to harm you, and they are approaching us as we speak,” Tahlia said in a calm voice. “There are others who will take care of them. Right now, it is important that I explain the situation to the both of you.
“Why? Are you involved in something illegal?” Jemima taunted.
James sharply turned his head and fixed her with a hard stare. Jemima quickly lowered her eyes.
“James, please take a seat. We do not have much time. The renegades are near,” Tahlia said.
Jemima looked at Tahlia with distrust wondering why the woman took several steps back from them. Quick looks at her father’s face revealed curiosity but no fear.
“There is a reason why I
could not make myself known to you until tonight. I am part of a very old Race with special powers. We have been around since the beginning of time, and I am one of the eldest.”
Jemima watched Tahlia’s face intently for any sign of deception, but the woman’s expression never changed. When Tahlia sought her gaze, Jemima glared at her.
“I am a vampire,” Tahlia said.
Jemima’s eyes immediately went to her father. An instant look of horror crossed his handsome features as he sat on the bed staring at Tahlia. He reached for her hand, and Jemima felt him tremble. She turned her gaze to Tahlia and noticed the woman’s ashen face.
“I cannot tell you everything right now, but I promise that once I have taken you to a safe place, I will tell you the rest. We need to leave here immediately. I can already sense more renegade vampires making their way toward us.”
Jemima was scared. She knew her eyes were swimming with tears, and she felt her lower lip trembling. “Do you think we’re stupid or something? You just told us that you’re a vampire…a monster…and now you want us to go with you into the night not knowing whether you are the enemy or not.” She looked to her father for his support, but he merely stared at Tahlia.
As her father slowly stood, Jemima caught her breath. “No, Daddy, don’t go any closer. She’s dangerous,” James ignored her warning and moved to stand in front of Tahlia.
“You showed me more love and compassion that any other human being I have ever met. You were there for me when I thought that dying was the only way for me to cope with the pain of Jane’s death.”
Jemima watched her father’s hand shake as he reached out to touch the vampire and she wanted to cry out but stopped when he started to speak.
“You were a friend to me, a confidant, and my protector. When you say we are in trouble, I believe you, because I trust you with my life and with my daughter’s life. ”
A Guardian's Touch Page 6