In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1 (21 page)

“The Celebration Feast is this evening,” I remind her. Her body slumps down in her seat. She has forgotten again. “Are you prepared?” I ask.

“How do I prepare to be around a bunch of vampires, Aydin?”

My jaw tightens and my throat clenches. I swallow to relieve the sudden tension in my mouth. I’m not sure what it is that makes my fangs long. The sound of her voice saying my name, or the thought of her being exposed to all the guests and greed these gatherings involve. I press my fingers to my mouth and take another breath.

“You will be there right?” She asks. The desperation in her voice doesn’t help and I bite the tip of my thumb to try to relieve the tightness in my throat.

“Yes,” I say.

She stands and walks to the door. The bottom of her dress barely covers her thighs. It is an indecent length, too high, forcing my eyes. I want to refuse to give her the satisfaction that she can distract me. Charlotte, it seems, knows her body is seductive and uses it as a weapon. Not that I blame her. It is a gift women can hold such power. One that is all too often used against them. She turns, glancing my way, her smile is small. She has caught my wandering eyes. Her skin heats and I breathe in, letting her scent fill me.

“Then I will see you this evening, Mr. Thanos.”

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The computer screen stares back at me, the chateau halls are empty. I had seen Charlotte walk with Lance up the tower stairs to the roof, her camera in hand. She is out of my view, there are no cameras up there. Vampire peeping Tom, I have to laugh. She has an amazing ability to bring out the absurd in any situation. And distract. Charlotte is very distracting, so much so, that I am having a hard time focusing on the task at hand.

I click the screen back to the email I had read. My hands hover over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. Modern technology is amazing. Words appear, stolen from my thoughts and transfer to the screen by my fingers. A few clicks of a button and the words are sent away, into the air, to someplace else, seen by other eyes. Those eyes are what I worry over. Who all will see my response. No matter how carefully I code the message, there is always a chance it can be deciphered.

Noise clicks in my head, small voices over the device that sits snugly in my ear. No matter how low I turn the volume down the tinny sounds pierce my skull, as do the monitors. As fascinating as it is, I despise all the equipment. The job, the endless questions and constant state of alarm. The deafening noise and chatter. I would rather go back to using my instincts, listening with my own ears, all my senses open. That is what I was made for. Not staring at a computer, typing cryptic emails. But I have to remain on top of their every move. There are those in the Organization that keep things hidden.

“How did it go?”

I gesture for Lu to come in and shut the door. Even as human children he tried to sneak up on me, though he was never able to. “Better than I had hoped.”

“Then why do you look upset?” Lu asks. His body takes up the entire chair. It never failed to amaze me how he had managed to build larger muscles than I. As humans we trained the same, sparring often, forcing each other to be more powerful, more brutal. The last five years have taken their toll on my body. I am not sure why I have the sudden thought. Maybe it is the way Charlotte eyes his large frame.

“She isn’t angry with me,” I say.

“Do you want her to be?”

“No.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“She feels guilty.”

“You are doing it again. Over analyzing,” Lucius laughs quietly, more to himself. “Sometimes I think the devil made a mistake making you a man.”

“Thankfully he did. I would never be rid of you otherwise.”

“You know you love my company.” Lu smiles, that smile again. “Why are you so surprised she is not angry?” He is avoiding my observation over Charlotte’s guilt. In reality, it is understandable.

“I just don’t see how she can be so forgiving.”

“You know, better than anyone, brother, she has a beautiful soul,” Lu says. “Actually, she has beautiful everything. That body! Those breasts! They would fit perfectly in my hands.” He makes a deep, guttural sound, and I take the time to consider if I should rip off the hand he holds up, cupping the air, or let him alone. Instead, I click the mouse to send the email before standing. He needn’t dwell on any particular part of Charlotte.

“Is everything ready in Florida?”

“Yes brother, I have made all the arrangements,” Lucius says and stands. “Are you ready for this evening? Alfonso is to attend.”

“Yes, I will speak with him tonight.”

Lucius turns and starts to walk from the room.

“Lucius,” I say. He turns to face me, his entire body taking up the doorway. “Do me a favor.”

“Anything for my favorite brother.”

“Keep your fucking hands off her.”

Chapter
Twenty-seven

The night air is cool and feels good over my skin. A calming effect to my raw nerves. The sounds of the conversation around me rattle in my head. Thinly veiled greed shines on the faces of Ashur’s guests. They know what is in store. I despise these gatherings. They remind me of my time in the ludus, dark times I would rather forget.

In secret Ashur hosted lurid gatherings, offering gladiators at the request of his many influential friends. Men and women would come for the promise of a night of pleasure. Coin spilled form their purses, spittle forming on their mouths. The torches flashing on the men’s hard desire, the women’s moist lips, painted red. Ashur masked his gladiators, and we stood unclothed, on display, and at their mercy. Lucius’ hard muscular frame and soft curls would make him a target. He would be left, shaken, refusing my attempts to comfort him. He endured far worse than most of us. But he never broke. His strength willed us both through it.

The nights of lust we called them, hold far worse memories than my time in the ring. The air would reek of greed and sin. My body on display, my life’s only meaning to give pleasure to whatever sick desire that was chosen for me. The men’s brutality was expected. The women’s desire to be consumed was welcome. I could lose myself in their lust. It was the power that they held over me that was terrifying, their grip on my life, dangerous, leaving me at their mercy. In the dark bedrooms of the ludus, I was nothing more than a slave.

The humans around us walk seductively, trying to catch the eyes of every vampire in the room. Skin tight dresses and tailored tuxedos, erotic spices over their warm skin. It is enticing. I feel myself getting caught up in it and walk outside for fresh air.

The ripe smell of grapes and raw earth from the vineyards hit my nose. A welcome scent compared to the lust that fills the room behind me. I look back to see Lucius is engaged in a conversation with a plump woman. He smiles politely at her and catches my eyes. The expression on his face makes me smile, and he breaks free to join me on the open terrace.

“She isn’t down here?” He asks. I know he means Charlotte.

“No.”

“Hmm...I hope she is doing alright.” Lucius seems to be just as enchanted as everyone else by her. Charlotte is already proving to be a problem for me as well. She is constantly sitting in my mind, demanding my attention. There is part of me that wonders if it is because I gave her my blood. I know mostly it is my darker parts that wish this.

I turn back to view the room. Ashur has spared no expense this time. Gauzy material hangs from the ceiling creating a silky canopy. Crystal beads and small light bulbs are woven between the thin layers, washing the entire Hall in a soft glow. Strands of lights spread out over the gardens from the french doors, like fallen stars.

Charlotte walks through the doorway with Claudette. Charlotte’s gold locks of hair are pulled back loose, revealing her thin neck. The dress is long with a loose neckline, exposing her chest, all the way to her navel. The thin blue material is held up, barely, by a string tied around her neck. There is a sudden urge to cover her, shield her from the eyes that follow her around the Great Hall.

When she turns to greet Henri, I see that it is backless and gathers into a deep V, showing small dimples in her lower back. Every time she moves, the too high slit in the side shows most of her thigh. Henri places his hand on her back, my throat clenches. I have to bite my tongue to keep my fangs from showing.

“Wow,” Lu says. “I am sure I do not need to point out, pretty little Charlotte wears nothing under that dress.”

Oh, yes. I have noticed.
Along with every other greedy eye in the Great Hall. Lu’s eyes are on me, watching. Sometimes I wish he didn’t know me so well. I keep my focus on her, trying hard not to show what I am thinking on my face. Lu see’s it, but I hope no one else does.

Charlotte’s scent is carried from across the room. She has bathed in sandalwood soap. Dark eyes follow her as she moves through the crowd. The low lights kiss over her skin. I look over to Lu, expecting to see that smile of his, but his face is different, melancholy.

“Sometimes, I think this task of being a Guardian is cruel.” Lu’s voice is low, so that no one else can hear us. “We are forced to love from a distance.”

“I am no longer a Guardian, brother.” My words surprise even me. Lu smiles, but this time it his classic smile and I respond with one of my own.

I look back to her. Her dress moves with her, and I see thin black lines over her side, twisting down to her waist.

No...
Anger wells up and I look to Lu. Charlotte has permanently marked her body, covered it in deep ink, forever staining her glowing skin.

“Why did you let her get a tattoo?” I growl, not bothering to hide my rage.

Lu refuses to look at me. “It is not like I could stop her,” he says, quietly. “It is her body to with as she chooses.”

He knows this answer does nothing but infuriate me further. My breaths are deep and shallow, controlled.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you didn’t see it before,” he says. “With the way you ogle her constantly.”

“I do not ogle her.”

Lu looks to me, “Please brother, everyone notices.”

Shit.

I look back to watch Charlotte, or ogle as Lu seems to think. Her eyes float around the room like she is searching for someone. Her heart starts to pound in her chest, moving the thin skin in the hollow of her neck. She’s looking for me. Her eyes finally find mine, her smile is small, and she calms instantly. The smile I give her stems from the knowledge that I can quicken her pulse or slow it down.

Charlotte walks around the room on Henri’s arm, shaking hands, and putting up with the men that brush their lips over her small fingers. She moves with such grace, but I know she is doing it for appearance sake. Abigail trained her daughters to survive any social situation. Having watched Charlotte grow, I know most of the time it is a challenge for her to remain this way for long.

“Should I go save her?” Lu asks me.

“Yes.”

Lucius walks into the room and interrupts the charade. Henri looks angry but keeps his nasty little mouth shut. Charlotte’s face lights up and she almost runs with Lu from the Hall. She grips his arm laughing, the corners of her eyes creasing as they walk toward me.

“I thought that was never going to end,” she says, breathlessly. When she moves, the sides of her small breasts peak out under the blue fabric. The silky material a soft, seductive whisper as it brushes against her skin. A small blue stone, lapis lazuli is cradled in the hollow of her neck. Her pulse thumps in my ears, drowning out all other sounds. I look away.

“These gatherings are simply a way for Ashur to show off,” Lu says. He still holds her arm in his. Her fingers squeeze at his tux, feeling the muscles underneath. I debate ripping his arms off.

“Show off what?” She asks, looking at me. Her hands fall as she lets go of Lu’s arm and looks down at her feet.

“His power,” My tone is hard. Cold. I curse myself. I need to remember to stay in better control.

Charlotte turns her attention back to the crowd. Some of the guests have started dancing. The slow, formal dance of too much money and years of social formalities ingrained in them. The women smile politely, their backs rigid, men holding their bodies at a comfortable distant. Later, they will behave differently. I can’t help but wonder why they always put on such a show. Why they try to mask their greed before the real reason they are here begins, like it doesn’t exist. Yet it does, only later, and in the dark.

Charlotte grabs at Lu’s arm again, “Oh, lets dance!” She says to him, her body bouncing in place. I know Abigail has told her that I am not supposed to be near her, unless asked, yet I can’t help the sting of her words.

“What is it with women and dancing?” Lu asks.

“I bet you are an amazing dancer,” she smiles slyly at Lu.

I laugh, making them both turn to me.

“I’m not that bad, brother,” Lu says.

Charlotte reaches out and takes my arm. “I will bet, Mr. Thanos, you are better.” Her fingers grip my suit and she pulls me forward. Lu’s eyes open in alarm.

“You are very forward, Miss Charlotte,” I tell her, allowing her to drag me out to the mass. Ashur and Henri stand on the outskirts of the gathering dancers, their eyes following us. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs. This isn’t good.

Charlotte steps close and places one hand lightly on my arm, and clasps her other in mine. Her head tilts back to look at me, a devious smile on her lips. Thin pieces of her hair fall around her face. I place a hand on her waist, letting my fingers graze her back. She feels small and thin, her skin hot and soft under my fingers. Her mouth opens slightly at my touch. Her body heats and the skin flushes over her chest, giving my senses a rush. I press my fingers hard into her skin.

“This is the dress Claudette picked for you.” I know it is. Charlotte’s face is pink, warm from the attention, the scent of her making me heady.

“Yes.”

I release the air I have been holding. “A woman’s dress is a reflection of who she is.”

Her eyes drop down to her chest. I close mine briefly and breathe. She looks back up smiling, her tongue touches the corner of her mouth. “Do you disapprove, Aydin?”

“It is reckless and demands every man’s eye, all the way to down to the tattoo you have on your back.” I move my hand; a stupid, bold move, around her back, forcing her body to press into mine. Delighting in the way her cheeks turn red and her breath catches in her throat. “You stepped on my foot, Miss Charlotte.”

I pick her up lightly, catching her misstep and grin. Her throat moves as she swallows. Her body is supple under my fingers and I guide her around the dance floor. The music is an old Roman hymn, with soft flutes and beating drums. She looks around before she catches my eyes. I should stop teasing.

“You don’t talk like a vampire,” Charlotte says, suddenly. Her lips taste the last word, feeling they way it sounds over her tongue. Her mind moves from one subject to another, so rapidly, I often wonder if she does this on purpose. Deflecting attention from herself.

She keeps closing the space between us, her body brushing against mine. The flickering of the candles sparkle in her eyes. She is daring and she knows it. I can feel Henri’s eyes boring into my skull. I smile large at her, I know it will piss the little shit off more.

“Is that so?” I ask her. “How should I speak?

“More charming, maybe.”

“You wound me, Miss Charlotte,” I say. “Your words sting deep, all the way down to my tar black soul.”

She smiles and laughs. Her voice is lovely. I have always loved her laugh and find that I will do anything to bring it out.

“Was that a trace of a southern accent, Mr. Thanos?” Her teeth catch her lip again, the light glistens over the moisture of the soft flesh, like the inside of a peach.

I look around the room to the others. My kind. “We have to be adaptable. We change our language, our mannerisms, in order to survive. We hide behind stories and keep our inner violence at bay. I spent almost five hundred years in the South. I imagine I do have an accent by now.”

“Five hundred?” Her eyes widen. “I bet you did not fit in very well down there in the central part of the state.”

“No. I did not.”

“I’ll bet though, Mr. Thanos, you were very popular with all those desperate southern belles, bored to tears, sipping their tea, and waiting to be rescued from the dreadful heat.” Charlotte takes a slight teasing tone, giving her voice a twangy sound. She couldn’t possibly know that I had spent most of my time with the slaves after her family left the coast.

The silky material of her dress glides under my hand, moving over her bare skin. Every step she takes, I feel the thin muscles of her back move under my fingers. My throat starts to close. I clench my jaw taking a deep, long breath. Someone needs to get her away from me. Henri even. The music needs to stop. I look to Lu for help, but he’s got that damn smile on his face. I can feel my chest tighten, like a weight being placed down hard.

“Charlotte, you are going to get me in trouble.” I glance over to Henri.

“You started it.” Her smile is mischievous. “Besides, you don’t look like someone who shy’s away from trouble.”

“Some trouble’s just not worth getting into,” I tell her, lightly nodding in Henri’s direction. The music stops. I let go and step back, quickly. I hope it is not obvious how desperate I am to put space between us. I bow to her and she takes my arm again, ignoring Henri’s obvious irritation.

“I’ll bet you have some pretty intriguing stories, Mr Thanos.”

“You have no idea, Miss Charlotte.”