Twilight Guardians

by Maggie Shayne

Killian awoke at sundown, blasting into life from a state of nothingness so suddenly that it felt like a powerful current jolting through every cell of his body. He would never get used to that. Such an abrupt awakening. Like electrocution. It almost hurt, and he considered it one of the least pleasing aspects of being what he was.

  He sat up on the cot and tried to quiet his mind and let his muscles unclench for a moment. But instead of peaceful tranquility, he found something else. The buzzing charge to the air that had his hair rising with static, and goose bumps dancing over his forearms. A presence he hadn’t sensed in years.

  There was another vampire nearby! And the air was thick with the scent of human blood.

  “Roxy,” he whispered with an alarmed look at the door. He surged to the safe room’s door, quickly unlocking it, swinging it wide, and lunging through, ready for battle.

  Roxy stood in the basement with a big tray. Warmed mugs held freshly heated blood, and two vampires stood beside her. Two vampires, living proof that he was not the last of his kind. He was not alone. His mind worked rapidly to process all the sensations ripping through his awareness, but it wasn’t easy with the scent from those heated mugs bringing the bloodlust to screaming life in him. He got powerful and ancient and hungry, and that was about all.

  “Oh for heaven’s sakes, feed him before his head explodes,” said the female. She had jet black hair that gleamed like onyx and reached her waist. She was tall, lean except for the swell of her breasts in the V-neck of her black blouse. It had long sleeves that draped loosely at the ends, and she wore tight fitting leggings and shoes that had heels at least three inches high.

  “Stop ogling my bride and drink up, Killian. We have much to discuss.” That was the male. He wore a suit. Black and white. Formal. Narrow lapels, no tie. His hair was as dark as the woman’s but pulled straight back and held behind his head with a band. His eyes glowed red as he took a mug from the tray, brought it to his lips, and drank it straight down.

  The woman did the same, smiling with her eyes, and Roxy held a mug out to him. “Take it, Killian. We need you all in top form if we’re going to save Charlie. Drink up.”

  He took his mug from her, said “Thank you,” and chugged it. Then he replaced it on the tray and waited for someone to tell him what the hell was going on.

  “This is Roland,” Roxy said, nodding to the striking man. Killian shook his hand, and Roxy went on. “And this is–”

  “Rhiannon,” the vampiress said. “Born Rhianikki, daughter of Pharaoh, princess of Egypt, and undisputed Queen of the Undead.”

  She offered a hand as well, but he wasn’t sure whether she expected him to shake it or kiss it. He opted for the latter, and she beamed in approval.

  “Rhiannon and Roland are elders among the Undead,” Roxy said. “Leaders. And friends of mine. They’ve come to help us.”

  “Among other reasons,” Rhiannon said softly.

  Roxy frowned, shooting her a look that said she had not known about any other reasons.

  “I’m Killian,” he said. “I thought I was the last, until that attack in Portland.”

  “That attack in Portland was perpetrated by humans,” Roland said. “No vampire can harm one of The Chosen.”

  “That’s what I thought. But what about the band of vampires they said they killed in retribution?”

  “I don’t believe there ever was a band of vampires,” the elegant Roland said slowly. “I think it was simply a story made up by DPI to frighten and control the public. Especially The Chosen. The very notion that they are our preferred prey is ludicrous. Clearly DPI is after something. They have a hidden agenda.”

  Roxy nodded. “They want to track and monitor us,” she said. “But since Americans aren’t crazy about that sort of thing, they have to convince us that it’s for our own protection.”

  “Oh, The Chosen need protection, certainly. But from DPI, not from us,” Rhiannon said softly.

  There was something happening to Killian. He was feeling a surge of emotion. Of connection. Of relief and something like joy just at being in the presence of other vampires when he’d been so alone for so long.

  Roland clapped a hand to his shoulder. “There are others, Killian. We’ve reclaimed a hotel in the most clichéd place you could imagine, and survivors have been making their way to us there ever since.”

  “Including a handful of rebels intent on re-starting the war of twenty-eleven and taking vengeance on humanity,” Rhiannon added. “But they won’t be here for a few days, so we’ll deal with your issue first. And then, I’ll deal with Devlin and his rogues.”

  Killian didn’t get the feeling he’d like being in Devlin’s shoes when Rhiannon caught up to him.

  “Roxanne has told us a bit about your past,” Roland said. “We’d like to know the names of the others in your band.”

  “Quickly, of course,” Rhiannon said, pulling an iPad from a bag and running her dagger tipped forefinger across its screen to open the program she sought. “We can go over it while Roxy and Roland finalize our plan for locating Charlotte.” She looked around the basement. “But honestly, let’s do it in a bit more comfort than this.” She turned toward the basement stairs, snapped her fingers beside her, and suddenly a huge black panther emerged from the shadows, leaping to her side.

  Killian’s eyes widened, and he stepped quickly and firmly in between the animal and Roxy. Rhiannon saw the reaction and smiled. “Pandora, this is Killian. He’s a brave one. Try not to eat him.”

  The cat looked at him and made a chuffing sound, flicked its ears, and then looked away. Killian stared into her eyes and silently told her he was a friend, and he thought she heard him.

  “Just keep her in the living room,” Roxy said. “I’ve moved all the birds into the bedrooms.” She took the stairs and headed up.

  “She wouldn’t hurt them,” Rhiannon said.

  “No, but she’d terrify them. Most of them are well enough to be released soon. I don’t want anything causing any setbacks.”

  “What about the owl?” Roland asked. “I noticed her as we came in this morning. What a beautiful creature.”

  “Thank you, Roland. Her name is Olive, and she’s become a companion of mine.” Roxy opened the door at the top of the stairs and led them into the main part of her cabin. “I’ve released her twice now. The second time, thirty miles away. But she just keeps coming back.”

  Roxy went to the coffee table where a laptop computer sat. There was a half-filled cup of cold coffee in front of it and a small plate with some crumbs. “I’ve been doing research while you’ve been resting today. The men who took Charlie were clearly DPI but also some kind of militia type unit. I knew what to look for. There are precious few military bases in Oregon. A few National Guard Reserve Posts way too transparent to be hiding much. Coast Guard stations all along the coast, naturally, and two air bases, both on the property of commercial airports, Klamath Falls and Portland International. And then there’s Umatilla Chemical Depot where they used to store chemical and biological weapons. All the weapons have been safely disposed of, or so the government claims, and that base is closed. Nine thousand acres, complete with underground bunkers. We should check it out, but I have a feeling it’s too obvious.”

  “I agree,” Roland said, nodding.

  “What about federally owned lands that are not military? National parks and so on?” Rhiannon asked.

  “National parks are too frequently visited by tourists to be feasible, but you’re right about federally owned land. There’s quite a lot of it that’s labeled ‘Wilderness.’” Roxy got up and went to a corner table where a printer held a stack of sheets. She picked through them, brought one. “I’ve got a map of all of them, and some aerial photos of a few.”

  “Well, that certainly simplifies things,” Rhiannon said. She reached behind her neck to unfasten the chain she wore. It held a pendent that was made of shining black stone and came to a point at the end. “Bring your maps and photos here, Roxanne, along w
ith something your Charlotte recently held in her hands. We’ll do this the old fashioned way. Meanwhile, please, Killian, tell us about your former gang. Roland will take notes.” She handed her iPad to Roland. He made a face and pulled a pen from his jacket pocket. Smiling, Roxy handed him a yellow legal pad instead, which he accepted gratefully. Then she quickly cleared the coffee table to make room for all her printouts.

  “There were seven of us,” Killian said. “I was the oldest.”

  “And how old is that, Killian?” Roland asked. “How long have you been Undead?”

  “Since eighty-five. I had an apartment in LA. One by one, others found me there, and pretty soon we’d taken over the whole building. There was a street tough kid who called herself Krystal. Maybe fifteen when she was turned. She had short brown hair, but she liked to dye it all the time. Purple and blue were her favorites. She was small, skinny, and moody. George and Rys were older, early twenties, twins I think, though they never said. Looked alike. Blue eyed blonds who loved makeup and leather and chains. Musicians, both of them. And there was Robert, a monster-sized man. I have no idea of his age before he was turned. He was off, you know? Like he’d been mentally stunted as a human and still was as a vampire.”

  Roland was writing it all down, but he was still watching Rhiannon. She was leaning over the maps, dangling her jewelry from its chain so the stone was suspended over one of them and sitting very still.

  After a moment, she snapped the chain upright, catching the stone in her palm, and switched to a different map.

  “And you’re certain they all perished when your building was burned by human vigilantes?” Roland asked.

  “I don’t know how anyone could’ve survived,” Killian said, lowering his head.

  “You did,” Rhiannon commented without looking away from her once again suspended pendant.

  “I don’t know how. I woke in a culvert, underneath the road with ice water flowing over my lower body.”

  “Nonetheless, you woke,” Roland said. “You escaped. That means they could have as well.”

  “If they had, they’d have contacted me by now.”

  “Have you tried to contact them?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “No. Because you believe them to be dead. Perhaps they haven’t contacted you for the same reason. Because they believe you to be dead.”

  “Ahh, here we are,” Rhiannon said softly. She was staring at the pendant, which was swinging in a series of ever-widening circles over one of the maps. Killian moved to look at the map. It was a National Wildlife Refuge that consisted of forests and wetlands, about seventy-five miles south of them, as nearly as he could tell.

  “That’s it?” he asked. “You’re sure she’s there?”

  Rhiannon’s brows bent closer, and the look she sent him made him think she wasn’t used to having her opinion questioned. He didn’t give a damn, he needed to be sure. Otherwise, time would be wasted. Time that could be spent tracking Charlie down. Saving her.

  “If Rhiannon says she’s there, she’s there,” Roxy said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Then let’s go get her out,” he said, and he got to his feet, eager. “Let’s load ourselves down with some of Roxy’s collection of weapons and go get her. Right now.”

  Roxy nodded hard and left the room.

  Roland met Rhiannon’s eyes, and something passed between them. Some secret knowing, laced with affection. “First,” Roland said, returning his dark gaze to Killian, “we’ll get close enough to conduct a bit of surveillance and find out what we’re dealing with. And then we’ll make a plan, and then we’ll get her out.”

  Killian was about to argue, but Rhiannon said, “Or, we do it your way and end up dead, and no one is left to get her out.”

  He closed his eyes, told himself to be patient. “Let’s just get there. All right? Can we just go? Now?”

  “I’m with Killian,” Roxy said. She had come back into the room, arms loaded down with weapons and a plastic bag in one hand. She was dressed in jeans, a skin-tight, camouflage print T-shirt, and an olive drab fishing type hat. She unloaded the weapons onto the sofa, marched to the front door, opened it, and tossed the bag outside. “That’s a five pound rump roast,” she told Rhiannon. “For the cat.”

  “Pandora, eat,” Rhiannon said, pointing.

  The cat loped out the door and tore into the bag. Roxy closed the door and turned. “We’ll load the truck with weapons, the computers, and anything else that ties Charlotte or me to this place. We can’t come back here. Just in case they’ve made her talk.”

  Killian felt a chill go up his spine at those words. “I’ve been thinking about that. And I just don’t believe Charlie would tell them where you are. Do you, Roxy?”

  Rhiannon said very softly, “There are not many mortals capable of withstanding DPI’s...methods. Roxanne is right. You cannot come back here. Just in case.” She looked at Roxy. “Nor can you risk missing anything, so much as a microscopic dust mite, that can give them a clue where you’ve gone.”

  Roxy nodded, a look of grim resolve crossing her face.

  An hour later, the pickup was loaded full, and the four of them were crammed into the front seat together with Roxy driving over the rutted path through the woods to the highway. Poor Olive was in the back, her six foot tall cage wrapped in a dark blanket to keep her from having heart failure at the sight of the black panther who was sharing her ride.

  Killian looked into the rearview mirror at the burning cabin, tongues of flame licking into the night sky. The vampiress Rhiannon had set the fire with no more than a long, intense stare. Nothing would remain of the place. That was for sure.

  But it scared him that all three of them believed this was necessary.

  And something deep inside him rose like a dark demon, unfurling in his chest with a hatred and a need to do violence that he had never felt before. Not even when his old gang was burned alive while they slept. Not even then.

  If those bastards hurt Charlie, there would be hell to pay. And he would be the one doing the collecting.

  “Your grandmother still isn’t answering her phone,” Lucas said. “But we’ve left messages with both her and your mother.”

  Of course she wasn’t answering her phone, Charlie thought. There was only one of them whose number she knew, and Roxy had probably tossed it the minute she saw her granddaughter leaving with these people.

  “Mom will call back,” Charlie told him. “She works nights. Can’t check her phone till her first break.” They’d been trying since mid-afternoon when her grand tour had been complete and their irresistible offer firmly turned down. She’d had lunch with the BD-Exers, then dinner, then free time which she spent in an on-site bowling alley with Mariah and several other recruits. It had been fun. But she hadn’t changed her mind. She wasn’t cut out for this. She just wasn’t warrior material.

  “If we don’t hear from either of them by morning,” LT said, “we can send Portland PD out to find your mother and let her know where you are.”

  “Yeah.” Her mom really should’ve called back. They’d been trying her all day. Yes, she slept part of the day, but with her daughter missing, one would think she would pick up. Something was wrong.

  Or else they were lying to her, and they hadn’t been calling at all.

  Right. And is paranoia genetic?

  “You could just give me a ride back into the city. You know, me being an adult and all.”

  “You’re not twenty-one. You’re twenty. Legally, I have to release you directly into your mother or grandmother’s custody. Especially given the recent attack.”

  She rolled her eyes, but figured it was probably true.

  “I especially wouldn’t want to just drop you off somewhere at night,” LT went on. “Vampires, once they fixate on a target, don’t give up. He’ll try again, Charlie. You need to be ready for that. He’ll do anything it takes to have you, and he’ll kill anyone who gets in his way.”

  She
shivered as Killian’s face came vividly into her mind. The deep, deep blue of his eyes, like oceans full of feeling and experience beyond anything she could fathom. The way she felt like she knew him better than she’d ever known anyone, and loved him more than anyone had ever loved anyone before. And yet he’d lied to her. He’d tried to drink her blood. And the rest...just mind games.

  “I really don’t think he’ll try for me again,” she said, and she wasn’t even sure why she said it.

  “You don’t know them like I do, then. They’re brutal. Vicious. Tenacious.”

  Killian didn’t seem brutal or vicious to her. He seemed determined, but gentle. He seemed caring and kind and beautiful. When he kissed her....

  For a moment, she relived that first kiss. The tender pressure of his lips on hers. The tentative exploration. The burgeoning passion of it. The way it felt perfect and right and inevitable.

  It had left her knees weak. Hell, they were weak again now. And if she started remembering the rest, the lovemaking under that giant sugar pine tree, she’d probably need to sit down.

  “Why don’t you get some rest, Charlie?”

  “Yeah, um, I’m sorry, LT, but I’m not going to rest until you let me use your phone to make those calls myself. To my mom. To Roxy. Because then I’ll actually believe you.”

  Sighing, he lowered his head. “I knew you were going to ask.” He pulled a cell phone from a pocket and handed it to her. “We’re not supposed to make personal calls from the base, but I’m gonna make an exception for you. Because I need you to trust me.”

  She frowned and thought it would be a long time before she trusted any male again. “Do I need to dial anything special first?”

  “Just the area code and number. Go ahead.”

  She tapped the screen, dialing Roxy’s number first. There was endless ringing, but no answer. She wasn’t surprised. Then she tried her mother’s phone. It went straight to a robotic computer voice telling her “The caller you are trying to reach has a voicemail box that is currently full. Please try your call again later.”

  She frowned hard. “That’s messed up. Mom’s a nurse. She gets emergency calls all the time. Not to mention that her daughter is currently missing.” She narrowed her eyes on LT. “Are you playing some kind of game with the phones, Lieutenant?”

  He took the phone away from her. “I saved your ass from a vampire, or have you forgotten that?”

  “I haven’t forgotten. I’m just not all that convinced he would’ve actually hurt me.”

  “That’s not how it looked when you scrambled out of his arms and ran straight into mine.”

  “I was pulled into yours. And I panicked, I admit that. But I’m telling you, the more I think about it–”

  “The more you rearrange your imagination to suit your romantic daydreams. Am I right? I’ve seen it before, Charlie.” He snatched the phone away from her. “Get some rest. Just get some rest. You’ll know I’m telling you the truth when we drop you off at your mother’s place in the morning, alone and unprotected. And if you don’t, then you’ll sure as hell know it when that vampire returns to sink his fangs into your neck and bleed you dry.”

  The ‘fangs into the neck’ part sent a shiver of blatant carnal lust up her spine and stirred up the memories she’d been trying not to recall. Probably not the reaction the good Lieutenant had been going for.

  LT stormed away, leaving her standing alone outside the barracks where she was supposed to “get some rest.”

  She put her hand on the door, but then gave her head a shake. Who was she kidding? She was wide awake, and there were a trillion thoughts ricocheting around inside her skull. All the things LT had told her, the little bit Roxy had told her, the things Killian had said and how he’d seemed. All of them were at odds. At war. Battling for her belief, and she had no idea which side was winning.

  She wasn’t going to sleep, that was for sure.

  She decided to take a walk instead, and rather than using the roads all through camp, she went around behind the barracks and walked along the inside of the tall perimeter fence. The night was serene, the air heavy and still, and the warmth of the day still lingered on the air. It was cooler than it had been, and the temperature seemed to drop a degree at a time as she walked along. The forest outside the fence was a lot like the one where her grandmother’s hideaway was nestled. Tall conifers, so big you had to tip your head straight up to see their steeples against the starry blue-black sky. They smelled like heaven. And the air around them just tasted better. Cleaner than it did in the city. She’d noticed that at Roxy’s place, too.

  Her walk took her near the center of Fort Rogers where the flagpole was. The flag had been taken down for the night. “Taps” had long since played and all the obedient little recruits had marched off to their beds. It was quiet now. She looked in at the base’s heart from the brushy backside of the mess hall and saw no one. Picking a direction, she decided on the road out to the training grounds where she’d seen the recruits on that obstacle course. It had been quiet out there. No buildings, just woods.

  She stayed to the fence line, not walking on the road at all. The span of woods between the tall, powerful fence and the well-worn dirt road grew wider the further she walked, until she couldn’t see the road at all anymore. Just the fence. It was made of tall metal poles, titled inward at the top and lined with razor wire. Heavy metal cables ran horizontally from one pole to the next, held in place by fixtures.

  It must be electrified, she realized. Then she put it to the test by throwing a pine cone at it. Nothing happened. She reached out a hand to touch it, and someone grabbed her arm and said, “Wait.”

  Chapter Ten