Shadow Guardians: The Beast
Chapter 19

Zachiel lay on his side next to Ophelia as she slept, watching her. Except she was only pretending to sleep. Her fanned-out black hair looked bewitching against the purple silk of their bedding. Her nose itched, and she drew her mouth side to side in a pout to get the itch out without scratching.

“You might as well, I know you’re awake.” Zachiel said coolly.

She giggled and rubbed the back of her forefinger against her nose, then stretched out her legs. He laid his hand on her belly and stroked in slow, affectionate circles. His heart gave a happy thud when he felt a kick against his hand.

“She knows it’s her Daddy,” Ophie smiled, glowing as an angel. “I swear she can sense it’s you. Sometimes when she’s restless, she calms right down when you touch her.”

“As well she should. I’d do anything to keep her safe. And you,” he said, leaning in and kissing her softly.

“Babe, you can really go back to work, you know. I’m alright. Truly.”

He lovingly stared at her with those jaded eyes, telling her how he so wasn’t convinced. She sighed and shifted against the pillow. Sometimes vampire males were much, too much, especially when there was a babe in the mix.

“I’m fine!” Ophelia said again, taking his hand now. “I’ll just stay in our room, I promise.”

Zachiel supposed he could go underground to the training compound and check on the new trainees since he missed the bus on going hunting tonight. It was nearing dawn, and they were in the last three hours of training.

“Are you sure, meeran?”

Ophelia rolled her eyes. “Yes! Go! You’re crowding me.”

Zachiel chuckled, then lifted her top. He leaned down and laid his lips on her belly button, still stroking. He spoke to her belly in the old language. ”Slumber soft, Amielle, my beloved daughter. May the angels offer you sanctuary in your dreams in places of harmony and peace and lead your innocent soul back to the love of mine heart when you wake."

Ophelia actually felt her settle down inside her body, and in her mind, she pictured her curling up into a little ball with her thumb in her mouth and snoozing off to dreamland. She simpered in awe at the effect he had on their unborn child. But then, he had a way with words. He could recite a blessing over you, and sometimes the gods listened, or he could exorcise a demon out of you.

He leaned in and settled his lips over hers with a love soft as the petals of a flower. Then he left their living pad, and as he made his way to the underground compound, he marveled at the fact that love could so easily lighten the darkest of evils. Even vampires grew soul sick from time to time with the endless onslaught. Perhaps that was why the gods had given them their mates.

He thought of Draven and pondered if he was really happy with what he was doing. Magnus had spoken of it before. Sure, their brother acted pleased with himself and seemed content with all the females. But Zachiel wondered. And so did Magnus. If they were so attached to their females, why would he be different? He wasn’t like the new breeds. He was nearly as old as them. Well, he was nearly as old as Zachiel. Magnus had two hundred and fifty-six years even on him. And while Magnus could look into his mind to determine how he really felt, that was an invasion of privacy they’d agreed not to follow through on.

He went through several layers of security in the corridors before he reached the underground compound. It was functional, not aesthetic. The floors were concrete, and the walls were dark gray. Cold-white LEDs illuminated the corridors and the spaces, which were divided into arenas, classrooms, and living spaces. Learning to do without comfort was a good lesson. It often taught one to appreciate the small things.

The accommodations were the same. Communal showers and toilet stalls were separated for males and females. The sleeping arrangements were almost cell-like, though the walls were white and the beds comfortable, and they were also divided between genders.

He strode into the arena, where several groups of pre-transition nosferi were sparring.

With careful instruction, he actually had hopes of them becoming worthy warriors, if only they’d stop bugging each other.

Those few descended from aristocratic bloodlines were balloon-headed and often wanted to earn respect by invoking fear. So he had to play instructor and knock down a few egos here and there. It was the age-old routine. The big guy always goes down on the little guy.

Their recruits were of a great range of ages, but many were pre-transition and joined because their parents were warriors too. Others had lived life as civilians but decided in their later years that they’d had enough of the enduring, quiet, simple life of a near immortal. Yes, even vampiric races died of old age eventually. Some were there as punishment, while others sought a family among the warriors. And while they worked together with the nosferi, the vampires were always a separate unit, revered for their prowess and perseverance in battle, a class of their own. That also often made them outcasts among the others...

The recruits knew better than to stop their sparring to acknowledge him. It had landed some of them a couple of impressive shiners before. They continued on, and he inspected their form as he ambled by the arenas, correcting where necessary.

Rip, as he was called, landed a punch right in Uriah’s face, and when he stumbled, his knee struck him in the ribs. It would’ve been a good move if Zachiel didn’t know Rip was a bully, and he’d probably had his friends blindside the kid.

And it was very ironic because Rip, real name Abach, was a nosferi. Uriah was a vampire, and even if Abach was bigger than him now, once he’d gone through his transition and survived it, he would be so much stronger, and he would tower over him.

Abach was the son of an aristocrat, however. And his father was just as brutal as he was. Uriah, on the other end, came to them from a coven down South. He lost his parents to a demon raid. That was his why. He was a quiet kid, the suffer-in-silence-while-you-plan-revenge type. Gilded eyes, messy brown hair. The only family he had left now was the warriors, and he didn’t need Rip’s shit.

Rip’s why was because it seemed badass and like a good way to show other people who’s boss, which left a disgusting taste in Zachiel’s mouth. Fortunately, he and his brothers still had the final say on who joined and who failed. It wasn’t all down to technique and know-how, even if that was a big part of it.

Zachiel cleared his throat. That was all it took for Rip to stop pummeling Uriah, who by now had his nose broken and skewed at an odd angle, a growing black eye, a split lip, and probably a concussion. Pre-transition vampires didn’t heal quickly. They were near human, the same as the nosferi. Uriah turned onto his side with a pained grunt and spit out blood. Zachiel peeked into his short term memory. He’d fought only in self-defense, which was acceptable. If he’d gone after him in anger, Zachiel would’ve been disappointed. Control was important, especially since they didn’t know if Uriah also carried a beast-gene. It wasn’t the kind of thing that labs could detect.

Uriah was thin and lanky and lacked any kind of muscle. All well and good. That’s what they all used to be like pre-transition. And props to him—he might’ve lost the fight, but he didn’t surrender.

Zachiel came up to Rip, loomed over him with his arms crossed. He had a good four heads of height more than the kid.

Rip still had an aura of cockiness and pride about him, even with Zachiel in front of him.

“You think that’s something to be proud of? You think that’s honorable what you just did, kicking a brother while he’s down?”

Rip’s friends didn’t look Zachiel in the eye. They kicked at the floor awkwardly, and some whistled low.

“He’s no brother of mine. He’s weak.” Rip muttered.

Zachiel grabbed him by the shirt and got up close and personal. He lifted him clear off the floor. “You know, I kind of feel the same way about you, kid. I’ve got a couple of centuries on you. Why should I waste my time training pompous rich boys who have no interest in aiding the defenseless? I need soldiers, not show-offs.” He threw him across the floor. He landed hard on his right shoulder and skidded to a halt three meters away, clutching at his arm while his face contorted with pain.

Zachiel pored over his buddies. “Get your shit together, ladies. There’s a war going on out there in that world. And when you’re in the middle of a damn battle, there’s no time to deliberate over who’s the strongest or most popular. Fight together or die side by side. The choice is yours. Laps! Thirty of them. And you stop for forty push-ups after every three.”

A chorus of grunts sounded in the arena.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Get off your ass, Rip. And I swear, if I catch you faltering, I’m sending you back to your parents. I’ve had enough of your shit. Move it!”

Uriah stumbled to his feet, but fell back down again. His brain felt pulverized, and his vision blurred.

“I got you, kid.” Zachiel said, lifting him up. He took most of his weight.

“Can’t see, dizzy.”

“Yeah, I’m taking you to the medical bay. Want to tell me what they did this time?”

“Challenged me to a fight, said I was a coward if I backed down.”

Fuck yeah. They would do that. Uriah and Rip weren’t supposed to spar. They weren’t nearly in the same weight class at the moment. “Don’t worry about it.” Zachiel peered into Nelo’s office while they passed it by. He was hunkered down behind his computer tonight.

“Hey Nelo, make sure those kids keep running, yeah?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Listen Uriah, I know it’s tempting, but don’t go after Rip, yeah? Don’t stoop that low. You just focus on your thing. Focus on honing your technique. You’re getting loads better at knife throwing. Don’t let him distract you. One more fuckup like this, and I’m springing him. We don’t do that shit he does, you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He dragged him into the medical bay and parked him on a cot.

“I know it’s annoying, but your transition’s only a few weeks off, then you’ll move into the house and be rid of him, cool? I’m grooming you. And so far, you haven’t disappointed me. You suck at marksmanship with guns, but we can work on that. Draven used to be rubbish at it too.”

He merely nodded and held his head in his hands. Gods knows he’d been eating Rip’s shit ever since he landed here three months ago. Uriah was so sick of it. And more than once, he considered beating the crap out of the guy with a blunt object. He’d never even looked at him in the wrong way. There was simply no reason why he had to be his object of ridicule. Except for the fact that he was a vampire.

“I’ll go get a nurse. How many fingers am I holding up?” Zachiel held up his forefinger and his middle finger.

Uriah frowned. “Six,”

Zachiel glanced between him and his fingers and sighed. Yeah, he’s definitely got a concussion. “You’re off for the rest of the day. Can’t use you like this. You should lay back.”

He complied without complaint and turned away from Zachiel, feeling a little like a failure.

“Don’t think like that.”

Uriah frowned and looked back over his shoulder.

“You’re not a failure, kid. Brothers don’t fight each other like that, unless it’s over a female.” Uriah smiled a little, his split lip stretching uncomfortably. “I’ll see you at training tomorrow. Pop quiz on weapon building in class, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Zachiel nodded and left. Uriah heard the nurse’s light footsteps approaching in the corridor. He closed his eyes and wished he could just go out and fight already. He was fucking tired of getting pushed around all the time.

He thought of the day he found his parents in their home. It was brutal on him. They were ripped to pieces, their limbs thrown into a pile, and their bowels neatly wrapped around them. The walls had been painted with bloodied claws. And there was no rhyme or reason why it had to be them. They were just the collateral damage of war.

His chest constricted, and he fought back tears. He would not cry. He was done with that, so he told himself when he was brought here. He went knocking on the door of a nosferi his mother knew, who was part of a coven. But he didn’t fit into the house there as the only, lonely vampire. And so he was brought here.

He couldn’t leave here just because of Rip, no matter how much of a nuisance he was. Where else would he go? Besides, he liked the three vampire brothers. They were cool to hang out with now and then when they came downstairs. He built a better relationship with them than he did with the nosferi.

Hopefully, one day, he would fight with them.