Shadow Guardians: The Beast
Chapter 8

When Katherine woke, she was met with darkness. Total, empty blackness. Trying to come back to her waking mind, she felt at the sheets and expected to feel the thin, worn fabric of her washed-out cottons, but when her fingers met velvety soft satin, her eyes grew wide in the dark. She panicked for an instant, wondering what the hell she was doing in someone else’s bed.

Then it came rushing back in one rolling wave, and her hammering heart stilled a little.

A scent caught her nose—something dark and...what was that smell? It was spicy, like those incense shops on Tenth Avenue. Sandalwood! It was almost like sandalwood, and it had a dark undertone that smelled like...

She frowned at herself. Purple. If colors could have scents, this would be the scent of dark purple, and the sandalwood-like scent would be a deep wine red. It was...ambrosial.

She felt at the bed and found nothing but empty space next to her.

“Magnus?” She whispered in the dark. Not even a pindrop greeted her.

Gosh, why the hell was it so dark? She had no idea what time of day it was. How long had she been asleep? She instinctively felt around next to the bed, hoping for a bedside lamp on this side. She breathed a relieved sigh when she found the switch for the antique table lamp. Light flooded the room and burned her eyes. She recoiled back underneath the satin sheets and peeked out in increments as her eyes adjusted.

She was alone in the large room, and the metal window shutters were drawn, which meant it was daylight outside. So, where was Magnus?

Katherine got out of bed and went into the bathroom, walking over black, cool flooring and plush red carpet in the living area of the room. She switched on warm-white LED lights on the ceiling. She froze in awe at the dark gray vertical panels and the mahogany wood on one wall. And holy moly, look at that massive shower, the black corner tub, and the twin purple sinks made of some kind of polished stone. She went over to them. Amethyst—they were amethyst crystal sinks.

She closed the door and went to look at the shower. There was a single black panel that covered the shower on top, and that whole thing was the shower head. So if she was in there, whoa! She had to try this! There was a computer panel on the outside that was for temperature control, spray control, and a timer. She quickly got out of the pajamas she had still worn since the ordeal and wished she had other clothing.

She set the temperature to hot, but not blistering. Then she got in and closed the doors. The timer on the console beeped, and the water switched on. It was everywhere inside the shower stall, like rain. She let out a happy squeal. She took soap and squirted it into her hands, rubbing them together. It smelled masculine, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to be clean.

This was heavenly until she looked down to start washing her body, and the sheer magnitude of black and blue bruises sank in. One literally ran down her left thigh all the way to above her knee. The entirety of her upper leg was purple and blue.

Images of clinically white hospitals flashed by her, along with the enduring smell of bleach, sick people, and her pulling bundles and bundles of black hair out of her head. Needles and pipes and being probed and prodded.

She felt herself begin to cry, but her tears were carried away by the water spray of the shower.

It’s not Leukemia.

Her hip bones stuck out, her stomach was too flat, almost sunken in, and there was a gap between her thighs she’d rather not have there.

It’s not Leukemia.

But still, she sank down against the shower wall and hugged her knees into herself.

You’re one of us.

She sobbed and hoped to God that was true. She started considering going for her scheduled physical checkup after all, as if to reassure herself that whatever she was dealing with was still unknown.

Eventually she made it out of the shower, dressed in the black silk robe that was way too big, and went back to the bedroom. She was startled when she saw a woman wearing a black dress with a white apron standing just beside the door, her brunette hair tied up high into a braid.

“Forgive me, m’lady. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, lifting gloved hands. “I’ve been instructed to bring you some food.”

She pulled in a trolley that stood in the hallway with a couple of covered silver plates on it.

Katherine walked closer, feeling drained after the crying and seeing herself. “What’s your name?”

“Lizbeth, m’lady.”

“Well, I’m Katherine. You can call me Kathy.”

Lizbeth’s hand paused mid-air with the cover she’d taken off the plate. Her expression was one of complete surprise, and Katherine frowned. Was that distaste?

“Forgive me, m’lady. I...I mean no disrespect.”

“You don’t want to call me by name.”

Lizbeth pressed her lips together. “It is not the way I have been trained. It is disrespectful in our culture to call the vampiric races by their name, Mistress.”

“What, do they beat you if you do?” She was feeling sorry for herself, and that was making her bitchy.

Lizbeth frowned. “No! Of course not. They never harm us.”

She was human, Katherine just knew it. “Do they keep you as slaves?”

“No, m’Lady. We serve them out of our own free will. In gratitude that they save us.”

Katherine frowned. The world didn’t make sense. “Take the food away, I’m not hungry. Where’s Magnus?”

She hesitated, then started closing the plates again, putting back the ones she’d laid out on the table already. “The Lord is in the west wing. I believe he is in a meeting with the nosferi warriors.”

“What kind of meeting?”

Lizbeth blushed. “I don’t mean to pry, but my father told me that they are planning their raids for tonight.”

Katherine sank down onto the bed. “Your father is a servant too?”

Lizbeth smiled brightly. “My entire family are servants of the Shadow Guardians.”

“How many of you are there?”

“We are ten families that serve. A total of forty.”

Katherine raised her brows. “Okay.”

“If you need anything, you can use the phone and dial star ten. We do errands for you during the daylight when you can’t go out.”

Katherine smiled thinly. “I’m not one of them. Exactly.”

Lizbeth seemed flustered, then her face brightened up. “Oh my! A neron! We haven’t had one of your kind in a long time, m’lady.” She gave a bow of reverence, and Katherine cringed inwardly. “It’s a great honor to serve you,”

“Ah, thanks.”

She left the room with the trolley, beaming sunshine into the dark room.

Then Katherine ran out after her. The bright lights of the hallway momentarily blinded her, and by the time her vision recovered, Lizbeth was already gone. Damn it, she wanted to ask her to take her out to get her clothing.

She heard male voices approaching in the corridor. Draven, Zachiel, and two others. She heard someone laugh. But Magnus wasn’t there. She would’ve recognized his voice anywhere.

They came around the corner, all dressed in leather and covered in ash. Draven, Zachiel, a nosferi who had shaved his head bald, and another one who had a mohawk. They were small compared to the vampire warriors, almost childlike.

“Hey Katherine, you alright?” Draven asked casually. “You look a little lost,”

“I ah,”

Something speeded by her in a wave of hot fury and violently slammed Draven against the wall. The nosferi took off in a confused daze. Zachiel stumbled back.

Katherine staggered back against the wall, and when her vision found her again, holy hell...

“Magnus?!”

“What were you doing outside my bedroom!” Magnus thundered at Draven.

“Magnus, what the hell are you doing!” Katherine yelled.

Zachiel came forward and pushed her back. Magnus’ head snapped at him. His eyes were mad with violence, their teal color electrified, and the irises glowing a dangerous red, like he was ready to jump him, too. “Katherine, go back into the bedroom.” He said slowly.

“But-”

“Just go...”

She pressed her lips together and retreated.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, brother?” Draven snarled.

“What are you doing?! God, Draven, if you so much as touched her. Maker hear me, I will fucking rip you to shreds and chew your bones, brother or no brother, you understand me?!”

Zachiel narrowed his eyes at what was happening. Magnus was so angry that the atmosphere around his body warped with heat.

“I didn’t touch her, I just talked to her,” Draven growled, unshaken by his brother’s outburst. If he wanted a fight from him, he’d damn well get it.

Out of nowhere, Magnus pulled out his dagger and violently lodged it into the wall, an inch from Draven’s skull.

At that point, Zachiel came between them and pressed them away from each other. “Easy, boys,” he said, turning to Magnus. His breathing had changed. Long inhales and exhales and that deep rumbling in him, his eyes were already turned to the beast’s.

“You need to calm down,” Zachiel said evenly. “Take a breath, Magnus.” He glanced over his shoulder at Draven, now seething too, with his fists clenched by his sides. “Go to the west wing. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Draven clenched his jaw and snapped around, marching the other way. Magnus growled.

Zachiel released Magnus, whose breath now came out in agitated gusts. He clutched at his hair, like he wanted to pull the stuff out of his head. He studied him.

“Let me ask you something, brother,” Zachiel said. “If Katherine weren’t here and I brought her food, would you let me?”

Magnus snapped his hands down and stared at him, his eyes still wide with anger.

“Would you trust me to?” Zachiel asked.

“Maybe...” Magnus managed.

“What if I wanted to feed her?”

In one swift move, he was pushed against the wall with a hand tightly squeezing around his neck and staring into glowing eyes. “I’ll tear you from limb to limb!”

Zachiel nodded quickly. “You’re bonding with her...”

As if the realization struck him like a slap in the face, he snapped his hand away from Zachiel’s throat. He retreated and raked his fingers through his hair, then over his face. “Oh Maker,”

Of course, it made sense that he’d trust Zachiel more with Katherine than he would Draven. Zachiel was already mated to Ophelia.

Zachiel rubbed his hand against his throat. “Yeah, thought I’d recognized that... You were nearly as bad with Ramona. Listen, I’ll have Draven move into the west wing for the time being. You know, until your bonding week’s over,”

Zachiel doubted Magnus would last a week before marking her anyway. “I’ll explain to him that you didn’t want to rip his skull off his body just for fun.”

Magnus nodded lightly, then kind of stalked back into his bedroom.

He shut the door and cursed at himself for losing control.

“What the hell was that?” Katherine yelled behind him, and when he turned around, she took a step back. He almost looked like he wanted to eat her.

Then those weird instincts kicked in again.

“You... you...” she mumbled. She didn’t know the words that would express what she was feeling.

He came to her then. Ran his fingertips over her cheek. He inhaled. “You haven’t eaten. Why? I told Lizbeth to bring you food.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” she murmured softly. His touch was hypnotic. “I thought about going out...”

He stilled abruptly. “Out where? You need to stay in here.”

She frowned then. “You want to lock me up in your bedroom?”

If that’s what it takes...

Magnus shut his eyes and lightly shook his head to clear it.

“The...” He swallowed his instincts to try and replace rationality. “The servants do errands for us.”

“I just meant outside, in the sun. I want the sun.”

He cursed and walked away from her, clasping his hands at the back of his head before he chained her to the bed. “Of course you want to go out into the sun where I can’t protect you.”

Somehow, she knew instinctively what he needed to hear. “There’s no one out. I’m the only neron here, right? It’ll just be me and the servants.”

There was a moment of silence. “Alright, fine.” When he turned, he saw how pale she looked. “Right, sun will be good for you.” There was no way to keep the excitement down low decent, but she was too focused on his overall behavior to notice. He pushed down the urge to reach down and readjust the thing.

“I need to go back to my apartment sometime and gather my things.”

“Tonight, when I can go with you.”

She frowned. Oh hell, like she wanted him to walk in on Kyle. “I can go alone...with a servant.”

He was looming over her in three strides. “You can go with a servant,” and I’ll watch from a distance, “but you’re not going alone.”

He framed her face, gently now, brushed his lips over hers. She smelled him—that dark sandalwood fragrance.

“What’s that smell?” She breathed against his mouth.

“My skin,” he kissed her softly, yet with an undertone of starvation. Then he inhaled sharply as he pulled back from her, like he had to control himself.

“Go into the sun. It will do you good.” His voice was raw.

She nodded, closed the robe tighter around herself, and left.

Magnus showered in ice-cold water when she was gone and went to bed. He tossed and turned. Then he eventually got up and went to the control room to watch her from the security TVs.