Guardian's Hope (31 page)

“I never go back more than thirty or forty
years. It’s more than enough to make a judgment.”

“I think if you went back more than fifty
you’d find a few gaps in his resume.” Nardo flinched when Canaan’s
face hardened. He threw up his hands. “I wasn’t checking up on you,
boss, Nico either, at least not the way it sounds. I was looking
for ideas for a new Guardian game. I remembered this story I heard
when I was a kid about this Guardian who followed the old Soviet
Union as it took over Eastern Europe. He brought hundreds of
Paenitentia out, some humans, too and there were some pretty
exciting stories about him. I thought he’d make a great subject to
build a series around. Nobody knew who he was. He always said his
name was nothing or he had no name, which is, of course ridiculous.
At least I thought so until the Professor here mentioned something
about Nico he found odd.”

“Nico’s surname,” Broadbent explained,
“appears to be an amalgam of several Eastern European dialects
which loosely translated could mean ‘no one’. Out of curiosity,
Nardo researched the name. It’s nowhere in the records.”

“So I started thinking, could he be this
Guardian legend? He never talks about his past. Hell, he doesn’t
even mention the last House he served. So I checked him out. The
gaps coincide with history.”

“You had no right. The man’s history is his
own to share or not as he pleases.”

“I know, boss. That’s why I never said
anything before, but now he disappears for as long as it takes and
I thought maybe he was on some covert mission.”

“Cool!” The twins shouted together.

Canaan started to laugh. “And where did you
envision this great escape taking place?” He shook his head. “Nico
isn’t trying to escape anything.” He rolled his eyes toward the
ceiling. “He’s trying to get captured.”

Chapter 31

While the men talked below, Hope cried in
Grace’s arms. Manon had been called and sat quietly in the chair,
watching and listening.

“It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts,” she cried as
she rocked with the pain. “Why couldn’t I have accepted him on his
terms? I knew how hard this was for him. I wanted him to be like
Canaan is with you. I wanted him to stand in front of the others
and say, “She’s mine.” She laughed through her tears. “I wanted him
to embarrass me right there in the kitchen when he kissed me in
front of all of you.”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s like you said.” Grace
passed her another tissue. “He’s not Canaan and you’re not me.”

“I know, I know. He stood for me among
strangers, Grace, but he didn’t do it here. I thought he was
ashamed of me; big old frumpy Hope. Those were my feelings, not
his. I accused him of protecting his image, but it wasn’t about
that either. It was about breaking the mold he’s been building
around himself for a hundred years. Why did I think something like
that would disappear over one long weekend? I drove him away. I
wouldn’t listen. I told him to go and now that he’s gone, all I can
think about is getting him back. I’ll do anything he wants.” She
began to sob again.

Grace looked to Manon for help.

The Frenchwoman flicked her hand in the air
in a show of distain. “All men are pigs,” she said.

“Manon!” The two younger women stared at
her.

“C’est vraiment, n’est-ce pas?” Manon gave
her Gallic shrug. “It is also true that pork can be a delightful
dish once properly cooked. You, ma petite must learn to be a better
cook.”

“Manon, maybe this makes better sense in
French because it’s not translating too well into English.” Grace
looked at Hope who seemed just as confused. At least she had
stopped crying.

Manon flipped her hand in her it-is-nothing
gesture. “Men are boys. When they grow bored with childhood toys,
they buy grown-up toys and when they are bored with those, they
play with women like toys. But they are still boys.”

“Wait!” said Hope excitedly. “Col taught me
that one when I asked them why they wanted the motorcycles. The
difference between men and boys is the size of their toys. He
didn’t make it sound like it was a bad thing.”

“Exactement. Because he is still a boy. It is
we women that make them fully men. We complete them as they
complete us. A good cook will turn the pig into a succulent dish. A
poor one will make slop. A strong woman will add to the strength of
her man. A weak one will encourage his weakness.”

“I don’t know Manon, Canaan was pretty
complete when I met him.” She giggled a little and winked at Hope,
who blushed but smiled just the same.

“Nonsense. You are as foolish as they are if
you think everything they are hangs between their legs. Canaan is a
better man because of you. He has more confidence in the direction
he’s taking his Guardians because you have lent him your
independence and strength. He is a wiser Liege Lord because you
have shown him joy. But the tears in this room are not for you and
Canaan.” She shifted her gaze to Hope. “We are here because of you
and your Nico.”

“There is no me and my Nico. I took care of
that, remember?”

Manon ignored her. “You must decide what kind
of woman you will be for yourself as well as for your man. Will you
be the woman that says ‘Why didn’t I accept our relationship on his
terms?’ or will you say ‘His terms are important, but I have terms
of my own’? You have expressed both through your tears. It is for
you to decide which woman you will be. Which one will make you a
better woman, Hope? Which woman will make the boy a better
man?”

*****

Nico thought he might be going crazy. He had
never felt constrained by daylight hours before. Frying in the sun
and the debilitating sun sickness that came with it had never been
more than an annoyance. Now, pacing the floor in the darkened
office of the private Swiss airport, he found himself raging
against not only the sun, but all things Swiss. Knowing his
feelings were unreasonable and his reactions to them illogical,
made no difference. The sun had caged him in this office and the
office was in Switzerland. It was enough.

To be fair, his banker at the small but
respectable Banque Eduard ad Galliard had been more than
cooperative. All it took was a phone call to arrange the paper work
and a collection of small gifts, one of which required a minor
miracle to execute. He was met at the door promptly at one in the
morning and led directly to the keyed bank of elevators that led to
the vaults below. Once there, he was taken to a secluded room and
his box was brought in by two burly guards.

It had always been so. Boris and Kurt had
done business there for over a hundred years before they introduced
Nico to the management. The two Guardians had left all their
holdings to him and the Banque had persistently used their many
resources to help him locate and eventually rescue those few
relatives Boris had left in Russia. It was largely due to the
information garnered by the bankers that he was able to make his
way through the revolutionary upheaval to find a very old uncle and
aunt and a very young niece. Lenin and his revolution with its
demon influx had taken the rest. By the time Nico located Kurt’s
last known relatives, the Transcaucasia Republic was falling apart
and the Soviets were there to pick up the pieces. More war, more
demons, more death for the Paenitentia and a new career for
Nico.

Yes, the Banque Eduard ad Galliard had served
him well over the years. Their investment advice was conservative,
discreet and fruitful and it had made him a very wealthy man.
Still, in his current situation, it would have been helpful if
they’d opened a New York or Chicago office.

Now, trapped in this office, waiting for a
take-off that would coordinate the ten and half hour flight with
the setting sun in the States, he had nothing to do but think of
Hope.

He missed her in a way he was sure wasn’t
normal. He was acting like a youth dumbfounded by his first
infatuation. He looked at a menu and promptly forgot what he was
about to order when a woman with Hope’s voice spoke across the
room. He found himself watching a tall auburn haired woman move
through a crowd as if he might find Hope walking through a square
in Geneva. What was worse, he actually felt a pang of
disappointment when the woman turned and it wasn’t his Hope. He
bought a rose from a flower seller outside his hotel and like a
child, slept the day through with the bloom clenched in his hand
softly scenting his dreams with Hope. The tattered petals were now
in his pocket where his hand strayed to rub their softness between
his fingers.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He’d come to
that House of Guardians because he was bored with the monotony of
his life and he’d heard it was different from other Houses,
especially those in Europe. Canaan ad Simeon was modernizing and
breaking with some of the age old traditions including those that
excluded a woman from sharing her Guardian mate’s life, but Nico
found it was different in other respects as well. Perhaps it was
the women’s influence. The House on Hayden Avenue was more like a
family with Canaan as its patriarch rather than its Liege Lord. And
in that family, no one’s business was their own.

In all the many Houses he had served, this
was something he’d never come across before and he’d dealt with it
poorly. Hope was right in that respect. He’d spent his whole adult
life in personal isolation. He’d constructed an image, a wall
around his heart, as she put it, and it was meant to keep people
out.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her. It was a gut
reaction of long ingrained habit when Grace involved the whole
House in moving Hope’s things. Grace and the others hadn’t meant to
offend or interfere. They only wanted to share in Hope’s and his
happiness. This was also out of the realm of his experience. Even
Boris and Kurt who had tutored and trained him, never loved him,
nor he them. They respected him as a dedicated and capable trainee,
a Guardian before his time. He honored them as his mentors, no
more. Because of his name and unconventional life, other Houses
eyed him with suspicion and he encouraged it. He served honorably
and well and they respected him for it, but he made no friends.
Until now.

After a hundred and twenty years or there
about, he’d found a House full of people who insisted on being his
friends, who refused to let him shut them out. And he’d found a
woman who’d cracked open the wall around his heart and squeezed
through the chink to fill the empty space with her love. And the
biggest surprise of all was that he wanted it. He needed it. It
filled a hole in him he hadn’t known was there.

He only prayed he wasn’t too late to make
amends. Canaan had only nodded his head solemnly when Nico had
asked for leave and explained the reason why. He hadn’t expected a
cheery ‘good luck’ from his Liege Lord. He’d hurt Grace, too, and
knowing how he felt about those who’d hurt Hope, he could
understand Canaan’s reticence. He would try to make amends there
also.

The pilot poked his head in the door.
“Monsieur, we are ready to depart. Your baggage is already on
board.”

*****

Tyn marched back and forth across his office,
swinging his arms wide in his fury. Lamps, pencils, papers and
broken glass littered the floor. He muttered to himself. Two of his
minions were gone and those Guardians would be looking for
more.

Hadn’t he gone out of his way to avoid making
the same fucking mistakes as his old boss? Hadn’t he kept his
fucking greed in check and kept himself hidden away in this fucking
rat trap to avoid their attention? Hadn’t he set up his whorehouses
in a decent neighborhood to keep a low profile with the
authorities? Hadn’t he kept the feeding to a minimum? It wasn’t as
if he left bodies lying around pointing in his direction. And what
good had all this careful planning done him? What fucking good? It
wasn’t fair.

They’d be looking for him now. This was how
it began before. They’d skirmish with him and he’d begin to lose
his minions one or two at a time. Begin? It had already begun. Well
he wouldn’t let them screw him over the way they did old stupid
fucking Abyar. He’s be damned if he give over all this without a
fight.

He shouldn’t have to do this. He paid Smith a
fucking huge amount of money to pay the right people to turn a
blind eye. The authorities shouldn’t know anything about this house
or his minionettes or how he made them earn their keep. How had the
Guardians found him?

This was all Smith’s fault. The human was
just another blood sucking demon that happened to be born a fucking
human. He’d given Smith thousands to find that woman. What did he
get in return? Nothing! The bitch had disappeared off the earth.
Didn’t he pay for protection? What did he get in return? Attacked
on a public street.

It would only be a matter of time before the
Guardians tracked him down. Fucking traitor that he was, Smith
would probably show them the way if they paid him enough. Tyn had
done everything right. He was sure of it. This was Smith’s fault
and the fucking human would pay.

But first, Smith would find him the red head.
He was tired of waiting and being polite. She was his and he would
have her. He would make it clear. Smith would find her and deliver
her here or Tyn would kill him.

And after the red head was his? Tyn smiled
and licked his teeth. He would kill the fucking human anyway.

Chapter 32

Nico drove around the city for almost hour
before pulling into the Guardian’s garage. After all the worry
about travel time and daylight, he’d arrived with time to spare. He
wanted to arrive when they were all together and the only time he
could be sure of that was Sunday dinner.

Nardo and Broadbent backed through the
swinging door from the dining room, their arms loaded with trays of
glasses and dishes, as Nico closed the pantry door behind him. They
weren’t surprised to see him. Sneaking up on a Guardian is next to
impossible.