Shadow Guardians: The Key

Katherine eyed the empty pint of Ben & Jerry’s New York super fudge chunk ice cream on her desk. She’d given up the hot chocolate for ice cream in what would be the vampire version of the early morning hours. She knew there was another pint just like it in the freezer, not five feet from her. She was not doing it. Nope, no way. She had willpower of iron.

And a husband who could sense her cravings.

“Eat more,” Magnus insisted. He leaned back in his leather chair, feet crossed at the ankles on the desk, with one of those massive Chronicles on his lap.

Katherine gave him a judging stare. But then, she really did want more ice cream. They’ve been up all night, er, day, doing research, which explains why her body was craving truckloads of sugar. And coffee. So much coffee.

“Do I have to feed you again?”

“Oh fine!” she pressed up from Zachiel’s desk and went over to the fridge to take out the ice cream. “But we’re sharing this one,”

Magnus gave her a yeah-sure snort. She cracked the lid open with a pout, took out a fudge piece, popped it in her mouth. She gave a wanton moan at the blissful taste on her tongue. Magnus shifted around in his seat, and she smirked wickedly, knowing that slight moan just handed him an instant hard-on.

“You are a dangerous woman,” he purred, turning the page.

Katherine moved over to one of the bookcases with the pint and spoon, just as the shutters opened for the night. There were plenty of old authors here. Homer and Archimedes, Justin Martyr and Tacitus. And yes, Shakespeare. Most of them belonged in a museum, honestly, so precious were they. But her brain fried every time she tried to read them, or anything in the Chronicles, without Ophelia’s help.

The high language wasn’t her strong suit. And she still had to cross-reference with the symbol key that Magnus had made for her.

She and Ophelia had made a cork board with a mess of colorful sticky notes and thumb tacks and a map of New York. And of course they stuck on any old newspaper articles they found from around the world about suspicious paranormal-like activity that could be linked to the big bad bastard. There was a whole separate board with articles about dream visitations, especially for her. She still rolled her eyes at that.

They’d collected half of the glass shards from the relic by now. Zachiel had said that when and if they have all the shards, the relic should come together on its own, like a magical puzzle snapping into place. In any case, any efforts on their part to put together the pieces just ended up with a blending of brain cells.

The weighty double doors of the library opened, and Zachiel came in with a yawn so big his jaw cracked, his usual neatly combed blonde hair disordered from sleep. Or lack thereof. Magnus started sniggering as he watched him from under hooded eyes. “Evening, Daddio.”

Z groaned and shuffled over to the coffee machine.

“Amielle keeping you up?” Katherine asked, spooning ice cream into her mouth.

“She sleeps alright,” Z said, pouring coffee into his mug with the splayed-out fat cat on it. It was a birthday present from Draven. Whatever. “It’s the waking up every hour and a half or so to feed her that gets to me.”

“Tell me,” Katherine said, “How does the baby thing work with vampires? I mean, are they-”

Z nodded as if he’d read her thoughts. “-They’re pretty much the same as human babies. In fact, they’re very human until their eighteenth birthday. The females also go through a transition, like you did.”

“You know you don’t have to go on rounds tonight. Us three can handle it.” Magnus suggested.

“Naw, I’m good. It’s only five hours of hunting.”

“Why though?” Katherine asked, going over to Magnus, pushing the book away, and sitting down on his knee.

“The hunting times are scheduled to coincide with the periods when demons are the most active. They prefer the hours around midnight, since that’s the time when the veils between the realms are thinnest. They use less energy to travel to the earth realm between those hours.” Zachiel explained.

“So more of them show up here then,” Magnus added. “She had another dream.”

Magnus told Zachiel about the dream, and Katherine filled in the gaps. He listened attentively, nodding now and then while drinking coffee. He knew Magnus was waiting for him to check if there was some sort of evil presence inside her. And he’d assured him already, multiple times, since he was the one who did the exorcisms.

“I still don’t feel anything shadowy from her,” Zachiel maintained. “I know there’ve been a couple of incidents where dreamers woke up cracked from being dragged into hell, but I don’t think this is anything like that,” He ambled over to the cork board of information they had on the subject. “There was one case in 1602, then again in 1751, and in Stockholm in 1940, where the church-going guy just waltzed into the school and started raping kids everywhere. No one had the strength to stop him until the angels arrived, and once they cleared his head, he maintained he’d never had pedophiliac tendencies in his life.”

“Each time they go coo-coo after the first or second night,” Katherine added, “I know I’m not right in the head all the time, but I’m not hanging from the chandeliers.”

“It doesn’t explain how it helps, though. She’s opening boxes on the other side. What’s it got to do with us? Because it has to have a reason. Fyre wouldn’t have marked her with that thing for nothing.”

Katherine mulled it over while she ran the spoon around the near-empty pint of B&J. “Maybe... maybe it’s not about our world. Maybe it’s about theirs? Whatever I’m releasing may be helping our war from the other side.”

“Well if that’s the case, you could only be releasing angels or beasts. That’s all there is that fights for us.” Zachiel said. He had a concerned expression on his face. “But that means that the demons are imprisoning the angels in the Abyss. Or more specifically, an Infernal.”

The temperature in the library seemed to sink at the mention of it.

“What’s an Infernal again?” Katherine asked quietly.

“The Chucky version of a god...” Magnus explained, “Only an Infernal can imprison the warriors.”

“Well,” Katherine said with a shudder, “That explains why the bastards go on and on about their fucking master all the time. Is there even a way to stop it, then?”

The brothers went silent.

“Is there?” she asked, panicked.

“There has to be a way. Even gods have an end. But we’ve never killed one before,” Zachiel said. “In fact, I don’t think anyone in our history ever has. I’ve read about a killing in the Chronicles, but the how of it is so washed-out, it’s unreadable.”

“I’m assuming the gods of the Light Realm can’t help us,” Katherine murmured, deflated.

“They spread their power to their warriors, s’all. Same as the Infernal.” Magnus stroked her arm. “We’ll find a way.”

“In the meantime, I think you should try to focus more in the dreams,” Zachiel proposed. “Try to see if you can make out what’s in the cages. I know you probably don’t have much control over them, but just try anyway.”

She gave a nod, and once again the doors of the library flew open with a loud creak and a gust of wind blowing in from the halls. Since there was no one in the doorway and she heard weighty footsteps approaching, she figured it had to be Draven. Only the males showed off their mental prowess by blowing open doors with their brains.

When he did appear at the door, she wanted to go eep! Man, Draven’s scarred face was hard, cruelly so, without all that beautiful long black hair to soften it. He was like boogeyman standard. If she were a demon, she’d be bricking it against the nearest wall.

And then a kid showed up next to him. He didn’t look a day older than twelve to her, seemed a little lost.

“Uriah?” Z narrowed his eyes.

Katherine’s eyes popped wide. Okay, so not twelve then, but eighteen. This was the vampire male from downstairs. First time she laid eyes on him. He was kind of good-looking, with a mess of russet-brown hair and the most extraordinary golden eyes.

Draven marched into the library, a look of purpose on his mug. He came straight up to Magnus and held out his hand, palm up. Magnus apparently knew what to do, and he took Draven’s hand. They locked gazes, and Katherine noticed some kind of exchange happening between them. And since she had bloodties to Magnus, she saw it too.

The image of Uriah, near-naked in the admin office, and of what had been done to him.

The fuck, Magnus silently mouthed to Draven. If looks could kill, the brother’s face would nail Rip right into his coffin.

The exchange was over in seconds. To Uriah, it probably seemed like Draven had merely greeted Magnus by hand. Draven cast a glance at him and nodded him over. He hadn’t met the females yet.

Uriah was tongue-tied in the spectacular old library. The ceilings were high, with candle chandeliers casting soft glows all over the splendid old wood. He came closer with his arms around himself, feeling so small in the wide open space that he feared he might sink into the floor or something. But the books—his heart expanded at the millions of pages of knowledge just waiting to be revealed to his eyes.

“This is Katherine, Magnus’ wife.” Draven said to him. Uriah held out a small hand to her, and she shook it. Gods, he was so small, she was afraid she might break his thin fingers if her grip was too tight.

“Uriah’s going to be staying in the house,” Draven declared. “I’ll show him his digs.”

Z exchanged glances with Magnus, which told him that something bad had gone down. He had no problem with the young male staying in the house. He was going to end up here anyway. Probably for the best. Whatever happened, he needed help when his transition hit. Which wasn’t far off from the whiff of him. Z calculated it to be around a week. Best not to tell him that, otherwise he’d just be trippin’ out with nerves.

“He going to do homeschooling?” Z asked.

Uriah nodded as if he were uncertain if he’d made the right choice. But maybe Draven was right. He had to forget about what went down downstairs. But, he still had to go down there for weapons’ practice. He zeroed in on the corkboards.

Katherine smiled, fangs baring. “Hey, if you want, you can help us in your free time with the research. Sometimes it’s all of us, sometimes it’s just me and Ophelia, Zachiel’s wife. Whaddaya say?”

Z raised his brows. “That ain’t a bad idea. You can start getting into the fight already. We’ll make sure you get your homework in the meantime.”

Uriah’s eyes seemed to lighten up, and his lips curved. It wouldn’t be the same as going out into the field, but he’d be stickin’ a finger up the demon bastards’ asses anyway. “That’ll be totally mag!”

Draven smirked. “Come on, I’ll show you your pad.”

He drew him out of the library. A few nosferi checked him out as they made their way to the elevators, but it was more curiosity than scornfulness, Uriah noted. He couldn’t get over the massive size of the house. Upstairs, they passed by another female with dark hair and purple eyes, and he just knew she was a vampire. He couldn’t explain how, though.

She paused by them. “Oh hey! You’re Uriah, right? I’m Ophelia, but everyone just calls me Ophie.” She took a whiff of him, and her face softened, turned almost motherly. “Are you going to be staying in the house with us?” she asked, hoped.

He nodded enthusiastically. “Katherine said I could help you guys with research. I won’t mess it up, I promise!”

Ophie smiled. She glanced at Draven. She sensed some kind of male bonding thing going on between the two of them. “I know you won’t. You seem really bright. See you guys later, yeah?” She passed them by to go down into the library.

“Does she have young?” Uriah asked. He didn’t know how he knew that either. It was a kind of vibration she was throwing off. And there was something about the smell on her—the bonding scent of Z, no doubt—that was a warning to stay away.

“Yup.” Draven replied, leading him down the halls to a pad three rooms down from Zachiel’s that was bordered by his own. He opened the door, allowing Uriah to go in first. Draven willed all the candles in the room to life. Uriah’s jaw slacked.

The pad was big, with black walls and floors, he assumed Obsidian. There were tall rectangular windows and a raised floor with four steps leading up to a massive circular bed with green satin linen. Round dining table of walnut and two high-backed chairs. There was a flat-screen TV against the wall, a stereo system with a shitload of music in the storage slot in the table beneath it, and rows of DVDs. Small shelf of books, too few for Uriah’s liking, and an armoire dresser that looked like it belonged to Queen Victoria. And no bright white lights—just the soft glow of candles.

“Whoa…” He murmured to himself, walking into the bathroom. The floors were smooth wood, and the walls were large, oblong slate tiles. One wall was a lighter shade, and everything looked modern, white, and squeaky clean.

He could never dream of being in a room like this. His family was pretty average, even though both his parents were warriors. Thinking back on it now, he supposed it was inevitable that he’d lose them at some point. His heart wrenched.

“This alright for you? We got more options,” Draven asked.

Uriah wheeled around and saw he was behind him in the… He supposed it was the living area of the studio pad. “No it’s…wow. It’s a little overwhelming for me.”

The big male smiled, the scar over his face pulling at his features in a strange way. “I picked one with some entertainment, in case you get bored.”

“I’m more of a pageworm. I like to read. But I’ll take a look at the music.”

Draven shrugged. “S’all good. I’m just next door if you need anything. Dial star ten on the phone over there if you need the servants to bring you something.”

Uriah dropped his bag on the floor. “So I do my theory here? And go down for the weaponry classes?”

“I think it’ll be more conductive to learning if you do your theory down in the library. But yeah. Shooting range is down there. Try to time it so you don’t run into morons.”

Uriah really didn’t know how to respond. He’d never quite had this much of anything in his life before. It was a little overload. “Thanks,” he said softly.

Draven nodded, then left him in the big room, standing with his arms around himself.