

### The Guardian

J.L McFadden

Copyright © 2013 J.L McFadden

All rights reserved.

Distributed by Smashwords

This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental except news personalities and famous artists.

CONTENTS

1. Dreadful Awakening

2. The Questioning

3. The Awakening

4. The Baltic Sea

5. The Pub

6. The Guest

7. Rebirth?

8. The Wolves Den

9. The Real Fun Begins

10. Adela's Dilemma

11. Unsuspected

12. Wolf Up

13. Unforeseen Problems

14. Adela's Visit

15. A New Way of Training

16. Day Two of Adela's Boot Camp

17. The Return Home

18. Adela's Speech

19. A New Day

20. Change in the Air

21. Longing for a Bout

22. Vixen's Visit

I would like to thank all of the readers that have taken the time to reach out to me and express their feelings, thoughts and hopes for the series.

### ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Cover art and Photography by Katyusha Simonenko

Edited by Oxana Krivulya

Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

www.jlmcfadden.com

# Dreadful Awakening

John shot awake, his mouth opened in a scream loud enough to shatter glass. Sweat saturated his body. His heart beat uncontrollably, and he clasped so strongly to his sheets, his hands burned.

His scream lessened until gone, leaving John panting as his breath evaded him. The nightmare remained so fresh, he could still smell the flesh charring in his nostrils — the memories of that fatal night still haunted even a full year later—and he clasped his face into the palms of his hands, willing the hellish memory out of his mind. That dark night, he had lost his three closest friends — in that twisted, scrap of a tin demolished by the crash. A crash caused by a stranger stepping into their path, one they swerved to avoid. He still remembered the blood, dripping, running from the seats of the overturned car. His hands trembled harder at the haunting gasps for breath his girlfriend at released, her sobs, her begging for her life to spared. Despite being pinned half in and out of the car himself, he had reached out to Kathy — until a boom had deafened him, a flash of light blinded him, and a week later John had woken out of his coma to discover the car had exploded. Only John had survived.

How, he didn't know — how he was the only survivor of them all?

The police told him he'd been ejected from the car; it had saved his life.

"Are the memories I have not real? Could my mind really have made them up?" he wondered to himself.

How could he remember his dying love in, right in front of him, reaching out for him and suffering so — her weeping and begging God for her next breath — how could it not be real?

How about the smell of blood, his buddies flesh smoldering from the flames, the ones that engulfed what was once the small, red Lancer Keith's father had bought him?

The smell of burning flesh and gasoline, his friends screaming, still rang as fresh through his mind as they had through his senses on that night.

Swinging his legs around, John tried standing, but his legs buckled beneath him, collapsing him to the floor. He forced himself onto all fours, crawling toward the bathroom on trembling limbs. After a few feet, he managed to get upright, and he stumbled towards the medicine cabinet.

Planting one hand firmly against the wall for support, he opened the cabinet with the other and reached for his usual fix that the doctor had prescribed for him.

On a normal day, he would take two, but two wouldn't suffice — not after the severity of the attack — and he threw four into his mouth.

After closing the cabinet, he rested his head against the mirror, but his rapidly beating heart still seemed to be working its way up his throat. "Please, god, make this stop," he whispered to himself. "For Christ's sake, please tell me why this is happening."

Finally, his pulse began to regulate, his breathing to slow. Maybe he could make it to his meeting with the support group, after all.

That never made him feel any better.

He lifted his head from the glass. At the face of a woman staring back at him in the mirror, he fell back against the wall and down to the floor.

Cautiously, he climbed up and peaked over the sink, half in fear of what he might see, but no reflection greeted him.

_What the hell? It has been so real_. He could remember her clearly. Dirty blonde hair to her shoulders. Eyes of ice. She had the face of an angel, unblemished, pure.

"Fucking great — as if I was not already crazy enough!" How much more could he handle before he'd get slapped into a padded room?

A quick glance at the clock had him cringing. "Ah, shit, half past one already."

John reached for his sloppy, wrinkled clothing, and began pulling them on, tucking his laces into his shoes before tossing on his ratty red cap with chunks missing from its lip.

The old skeleton key shook and rattled when he tried unlocking the door. "Come on," he said, finally tugging it open.

He jetted down the old rickety stairs and out into the street, hoping and praying to make the meeting on time. Luckily, it was only a few blocks away in the old rundown district.

As he cut around a corner, he caught the woman's face from his bathroom mirror in the old dirty and cracked window of a building. Closing his eyes for a second, he shook his head. When he looked back, nothing. She'd gone. "Damn, what is next?"

Opening the old wooden door on the meeting venue set its hinges creaking and moaning. The floorboards squeaked underfoot as he stepped inside. He tugged at the bill of his cap and removed it out of respect and entered into the circle of people, where they sat in old wooden chairs.

Taking a deep breath, John chose an empty seat and prepared for what would come next.

"Mr. Kremble, do you think that you are any better than the rest?" said the low, monotonous voice from a thin, black male dressed like a college student from the 70s. "What makes you feel like you can disrespect the others by trotting in here whenever you feel?"

John had known Tom would rip into him as soon as he sat down. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Why do you not want to make any progress?" Tom asked.

"I do," John replied, "but how — how can I, when I still have all this noise in my head?"

"What do you mean by noise?"

"Most days, I wake up screaming, seeing what happened in that car. I know they say I was ejected, but... I keep seeing this other nightmare in my head... as if it is my real memory."

Tom settled back into his seat and frowned. "John, do you have any other delusions, or signs?"

"No, sir, just this one. And it seems so real."

"Have you spoken to your doc about your 'scripts?"

"Yes, they say it is just my mind trying to deal with all the trauma I suffered."

Tom sat for a moment, clicking his pen on the side of his seat. He seemed disturbed by John's words, but then he tended to get annoyed when doctors didn't listen to their patients. "Well, are you willing to speak to a friend of mine and see if he has an alternative?"

"I am willing to speak to anyone, sir." John's voice cracked, and he stared down at his feet with. "Anything that might make this seem less real."

"I will call you after I speak with him," Tom said, his voice calm. "We will get through this together. You are not alone in this, do you understand me, John?"

John nodded but didn't look up.

"Alright, everyone, back here on Wednesday at two p.m. sharp. No stragglers this time." Everyone headed towards the door, but John remained, and Tom laid a hand on his shoulder. "Hold in there, son. You've been through hell and back and I'm not giving up on you."

"Thank you, sir, I don't know what to say."

"Say nothing. Go home and try to get some rest."

With a shake of his head, John gathered himself and headed for the door.

On leaving the building, the same image of a woman from earlier flashed again, just for a moment, in another window, and John halted. _What is going on with me? Am I completely bat shit crazy?_

Maybe he should just take Tom's suggestion — sleep it off. It was probably the effects of him taking the extra pills that morning.

The only thing even slightly pleasurable to him was Frank's hot dog stand at the corner of Baker and Main. The only thing he looked forward to each day, but today was not his day at all.

"Hey, Johnny!"

The unwanted voice came from behind John. _Damn it! Officer Marco again, hunting me down again_.

John stopped and turned. "What do you need, Officer Marco?"

"I need to understand why is it a piece of shit like you is up and walking around while my little sister is six feet under." Spit flew from the mouth of the overaggressive cop with each word. "I need to understand how God let a blight like yourself be the only survivor out of four." The Officer shoved John, but didn't move him more than an inch. "I need to know why you don't even have a scratch on you after an accident like that."

"I wonder that myself when I pray for death almost every day! What do you want from me?" John's words screamed from him. "I loved your sister with every breath I have ever taken since the day I met her! I fucking keep waking up to the smell of her blood, and her praying to God for him to spare her! I was _not_ driving the damn car!"

Officer Marco glared at John. "Yeah well, every night, I get to hear my mom cry herself to sleep. Sobbing the whole night. And then I have to help my father to his new sleeping spot on the couch after he passes out at the table from drinking all day. You have no family to mourn you. Why did _you_ get to live?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? I guess I was on God's torture list. I keep seeing your sister reach for me in my dreams, hearing everyone tell me I was ejected from the car, and my memories are not real — how do you think I feel? Dying that night would have been better!"

" _Hey_!" Another officer strode their way. "What the fuck are you doing? Are you torturing this kid again?" He marched right up to Marcos. "You are a twisted man. You need a lot of couch time."

"This is none of your business," fired back Marcos. "This is a _personal_ issue!"

"This little sick and twisted torturing fetish you have with this boy is done." Warning flashed in the officers eyes. "The next time I hear about you disturbing him, I'm going to have your badge."

With a muttered curse, Officer Marcos stormed off, and the unfamiliar officer turned to John. "You alright, boy?"

John shook his head. "It is what it is, but thank you."

"If it wasn't for him getting so many thugs off the street, I would bust him back to meter maid."

"No, no, don't. He lost his sister. She was the world to him. This is not who he is at all, Captain, I swear. He used to be a really good man."

"You haven't had it easy, either, boy."

"Yeah, but I also don't have to see my family falling apart, like he does."

The Captain stared at John, his eyebrows arched in surprise. "Alright, boy." He nodded. "But if there are any other run-ins, give me a call."

"No, need, sir," John said, and turned towards home.

John's rundown apartment with its rusted, half-broken beading from the sixties, stood within a dilapidated complex mostly occupied by people who'd already given up on life. Most of them lived off Government checks. Others took whatever job they could get, just to make ends meet.

Yet, John still found himself happy to see the building. Probably because it seemed a fitting place for someone who wanted to die instead of live.

Once he'd locked himself in, he crawled into bed, kicking off his shoes one at a time. Pulling his pillow close, he prayed for a better day when he woke.

The late evening quickly drifted into late night, when the dream began to take place again. Once more, John was in the burning car, his girlfriend reaching out for him as his friends hung unconscious from the accident.

He reached his hand out to the girl he loved, as she wept and begged for salvation from the horrendous accident from which their lives hung in the balance. His fingertips brushed hers, just for a moment, and a strong grip circled his ankle.

In the next breath, he was ripped away, away from his college sweetheart, and flung through the hair. He slammed into a dumpster, but two hands behind his head protected his head from the impact, and what felt like a woman's bosom cushioned his face, but he could still heard the explosion despite his angelic shield. He also felt the impact vibrate through her and still the explosion didn't reach him, but grinding of her teeth told him his protector wasn't so lucky.

The strength of the blast rammed against the wall behind it. How could a woman have the strength to survive against such a blow? Protect him?

Once the blast died down, she held him close, pulling back slightly until he could see her eyes as they seemed to scan his body. The irises were a blend of haunting icy blue and green. John felt safe, almost at home, gazing into them.

A loud, rapid knock yanked him from his sleep.

As he blinked, a second knock blasted out from his door. "Wake the fuck up now!" Marcos screamed from the other side. "Get your ass moving. We have got to go now!"

John leaped out of bed and headed for the door. "What the hell is going on?" As soon as John turned the tumblers to the door, Marcos shoved his way into the room.

"Get your shit on!" Marcos ordered. "Mom is going hysterical, balling her eyes out and asking for you."

"What? What happened?"

"I am telling you she has been off her rocker ever since the accident. Here're your shoes. Get them on and hurry the fuck up. I do not want her in the funny house."

John quickly strapped on his shoes and bolted out the door with Marcos, both men hitting a full out sprint within seconds towards Marcos's parents' house.

"I am telling you, man," Marcos said, half out of breath from running, "Mom is not the same as you remember. I am hoping to God you can calm her down."

"I will do my best — you know I love your family."

Both men erupted into the house and marched straight into the living room, but Marcos put his arm out and stopped John from going farther.

"Okay, John, catch your breath. We can't have her seeing us like this."

John nodded to Marcos, ignoring that he didn't actually seem winded, as John suggested.

"Is that my baby's Johnny out there I hear?" The sorrowful female voice came from inside her room. "Come here, sweetie. I miss you and my baby." Breaking into an uncontrollable weeping fit, Marcos's mother Sandra held out her arms to John.

John sat at the edge of the bed and drew her close, allowing her to kiss him on his head, and he, too, began cry.

"We are your family," she said through her tears. "And we need you to be a part of it, even though she is gone."

"Mom, I don't know what to say." John's voice cracked beneath the weight of his pain as he spoke. "I miss her so bad. I wish it had been me, not her."

"You have always been good to her. Nothing was your fault, baby."

"Mom, I'm going down to check on Dad, Marcos said."

Marcos's mother nodded. "I am sure he needs some slowing down." As her son left the room, she held John tightly in her arms, slightly rocking him like a small child. "Baby, you are not to blame. I lost my daughter. I do not want to lose you, too."

John straightened and pulled away a little. "You won't, Mom." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "But I think I need to leave for a while and get my head straight. I need time to figure out what is going on with my head and to try and get rid of these nightmares."

Sandra sat for a moment, caressing his face with one hand. "Baby, maybe you do need to get away and not have so many reminders, but where would you go? You have no family to speak of."

John had seen Europe in his dreams. Maybe it was time to visit there. He looked down at Sandra. "Europe," he said.

# The Questioning

In a cold drafty castle off of the Baltic Sea, several people walked through a corridor, where one, a dirty blonde female stood staring out the window at the star spotted sky of the blackened night.

A tall European man stood beside her. "Gala, I have some questions for you." His voice had a slight lisp to it.

"Your questions are growing o tiresome," she responded, her voice cold and defiant.

"Why, oh why, did you save that dirty human in the States?" he asked anyway.

"I did," she said coolly. "That was it, and it is over!"

"It was a risky gamble that could have exposed us to the humans. How could you do it for a human you had never met?" Drakus asked with a commanding voice. "He wasn't even your familiar."

Gala sighed. "Why are you so troubled by this? I am not your woman and this is not your coven!"

The doors to the corridor burst open to reveal Adela, the leader of their coven. She glared at Drakus and headed toward Gala, placing a hand on her. "Is he ever going to understand that you are not interested?" she whispered.

Gala laughed at the comment.

"Drakus, this is my coven," Adela said to the male, "and I am the only one that can question anyone about anything pertaining to said coven. Do you understand this?" Oddly beautiful, Adela's voice carried a smoky sound, one full of power.

"But she placed us all in danger, Adela," Drakus said in a more emasculated voice, but the leader turned away without answering and led Gala to another room.

One of the strongest vampire's still alive, Adela was close upon two thousand years old. More years allowed more opportunity for building additional strength and gaining new abilities, and being one of the few ancients left meant she had acquired a lot both.

Only three other ancients remained on Earth, besides the ghost stories of a shadow group even the ancients feared too much to mention.

Alone in the room, Adela turned to Gala. "My dear, I'm afraid I must also ask: What compelled you to do such an act?" She poured herself a tall glass of wine in her favorite goblet, glancing at the other female when she remained silent. "Gala, I am waiting for your answer." She sighed. "I mean not to cut you down or judge you. My dear girl, I am hopeful that your action was a sign of hope."

"What do you mean?" Gala asked, speaking at last. She frowned at the female who she'd been turned by only a few years before; Gala was one of the youngest, but a bit stronger than a normal vampress of her years. "I do not understand what you mean by a sign of hope."

"My dear, there are things you do not know about the true history of vampires of which I am banned from speaking," Adela said, offering Gala a goblet of wine herself, which she took. "I chose you, because I felt something unusual about you. As a human, you were different from others, and as a vampress, you are also different. I believe you will be a great asset to our coven, maybe someday even lead it."

"That is nice of you, but I think you overestimate me, Adela. How could me, saving one human, be a sign?"

Adela patted the open cushion on the sofa, motioning for Gala to take a seat beside her. "There used to be another race," Adela began, gazing into the fire as Gala settled beside her. "It was very rare, born out of the humans, born to belong to one vampress alone. It was always a male that belonged to a female vampire, and no other way. We called them Guardians, because for the female to whom they belonged, they would give their lives to protect. After the Guardian meets his vampress, he would begin gaining strength very rapidly, so rapidly it made the ancients nervous." Adela twisted toward Gala and placed her hand on her lap. "What I tell you next can never leave this room. If it did, it could cause the end of us both, do you understand me, dear?"

Gala nodded once. "What you tell me stays with me, forever."

"That is good, because this is forbidden knowledge that is punished by pain of death to whoever speaks of it." Adela paused as though allowing Gala a moment to reconsider. When she didn't the ancient female continued, "I was the last to have a Guardian, and I watched him lose his life trying to save my own. The ones we mustn't speak of are who I believe to be at the root of the order of his death. I need to ask you a few questions. I know it is difficult to explain some things, but I need you to answer as honestly as you can."

"Yes, of course I will, my mistress."

Adela drew in a nervous breath, an unusual action for her, before asking, "Why did you vanish from us and go to the States?"

Gala sat still for a moment before she answered. "I have no idea at all. One morning, I had awoken and felt a need to go to that very spot. Strangely, it was as if I was on autopilot, like something or _someone_ else was controlling me. I knew where to be and almost knew what was needed beforehand." She stared off, as though remembering. "I had never seen him before that night."

"Has anything else happened since that moment?" Adela asked with her full attention on Gala.

"I have dreams that seem like I am seeing his life. I can feel his pain sometimes, but they are only dreams."

Adela nodded, seeming neither shocked nor surprised by the news. "Tell no one of these feelings and dreams. We could be witnessing something that I have been praying for." She frowned. "Gala, we are receiving a lot of pressure from the other coven headed by the other ancients. I believe they are each becoming more and more hungry for power, and I am a lot younger than them. I fear, if I had to face one to protect my coven, I would not last long." Her hand tightened over the younger female's knee. "If your little human shows up do not be surprised."

"What do you mean? He has no idea where I am, who I am, or even my name."

Adela merely smiled. "We will see."

# The Awakening

As the sun crept into his room, John sat up from his bed. He felt different than usual. His dreams had switched — from watching himself in the explosion to thoughts of the beautiful woman who might have saved his life during his dreams.

Who was she? Could she be real?

All John knew was he felt like a new man and, for the first time in a long while, ready for his morning run.

After stretching, he went into the bathroom and did all his usual morning routines, except when it came time to take his pills, he merely looked at them as he held them in his hand before placing them back into the bottle.

Sighing, he headed from his apartment and began jogging as soon as he hit the street. He was up to running six miles a day, and did not feel a need for his pills, but felt an urge to leave this town. Entering the building that hosted his support group, he paused as the decision became resolute in his mind: That day would be his last day in that town.

Almost half an hour early, John approached Tom. "Tom, we need to talk."

Tom offered him a small smile. "Well, then, speak."

"Today is my last day in town." John nodded as though to place more weight on his words. "I have decided to leave town and clear my head."

Tom eyebrows arched up. "What about the group? Do you really feel as if you can afford to backslide and not see any more growth?"

"I don't feel the group is helping me as much as me moving on could." He splayed his hands as though asking for understanding. "Do you think it's healthy for us to just sit here day after day and not experience any new chapters in life?"

Tom's eyebrows lowered with his. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought I was the one with the training and education in helping people through their problems, not you."

"Come on, Tom. Don't put your ego into this. I need a change of scenery for a while. Anyway..." John shrugged. "I am leaving tonight on the first plane."

"Great, just run away from all your problems and see how things go."

Shaking his head, John turned from Tom and strode for the door. Clearly, Tom needed some couch time himself to get over his overly inflated head.

After grabbing the luggage he wanted to take with his, John stopped off at his old girlfriend's parents' house on his way to putting his plan into action. When no one answered, he left a note, explaining to them that he had decided to leave for a while and would stop by when he was back in town; he didn't want Sandra causing a fuss or being worried about him. He understood that he was the last connection she had with her daughter after their last talk.

With the note tucked in place for them to find, he headed to the airport to get whatever ticket he could to take him out of the country to the Baltic Sea. He had no idea why he chose that location, other than he seemed to be being drawn there in his dreams and in his heart. His bag he'd packed held an extra set of clothes and what little money he had managed to save in such a short period of time. He had no idea where he was going to stay or if he would be able to communicate with people there, but nothing would stop him.

John's flight was an all-nighter and he was lucky enough to get the window seat. Exhausted despite waking up that morning refreshed, he soon drifted off to sleep. It took only seconds more for him to enter a dream. He didn't recognize where it took him, but in his heart, he seemed to identify it as the Baltic Sea, was almost as if seeing through someone else's eyes.

Moments later, what he believed to be a female traveled in tandem with his sight, driving a car down some old streets before turning into a back alley. He'd known it would be a strange dream from the very get go.

The woman walked into a bar and spoke to a man behind the bar, asking questions. Once she seemed satisfied with her gathered information, she made her way into the lady's bathroom, where she went directly to the mirror. As she began checking her makeup, her reflection became clear to John: that of the very woman who entered his dreams so many times — the one who'd saved his life.

Her eyes locked on her own and she paused. In that moment, John saw recognition. As though the woman knew him to be present, if only as spectator and warmth bloomed in his chest.

"Everyone, please settle down and buckle up we have just hit a rough spot and will be out of it momentarily." The Captain's voice echoed through the onboard system.

The plane shook, and everyone scrambled to get fastened into their belts.

"Looks like they might be scrapping us of a building," said a strange man sitting next to John.

John stared at him, and the man gave him a mocking smile.

"I am just playing with you, boy, calm down."

"Do I look worried?" John snapped back.

The turbulence settled down in the next moment, and John sent a glare toward to his next seat neighbor, one he hoped conveyed that any other commentary wasn't needed or wanted.

As he relaxed back in his seat, John wondered, could this be real? Or maybe his dreams were simply becoming more and more strange.

He laughed to himself. Maybe I need to become a writer and just rehash what I dream at night.

God knew they were strange enough to sell some copies.

After an hour or so of reflection, John turned to his neighbor. "I apologize for my earlier reaction. This is my first flight out of anywhere. I had to get out of dodge and try to clear my head. I'm still working on that."

The older man peered back at John through the lenses of his glasses. "None was taken, kid. I tend to rub people the runway. I have a preference for being myself, rather than following social standards." He shrugged and gave a small smirk. "Maybe that is why I have had so many ex-wives." "Damn, not one, but multiple women were dumb enough to hitch up with you? Maybe there is still hope for me, too."

His older neighbor joined in John's laughter. "True, true. I am sure anyone has hope, judging by my multiple run-ins. Just remember." The man tapped the side of his nose and pointed at John. "It is the escape that is hard."

More laughter ensued between the two men, and the older one motioned the flight attendant over. "Hey, Barbie," he said as she approached, "how about two scotches to wet our whistles."

The woman shook her head. "Which one of you is paying for them?"

"I'll get it," the man said, pointing his thumb toward John. "This is my new friend's first flight." As the flight attendant weaved away down the aisle, the man turned to John and held out his hand. "My name is Mike. Yours?"

"John," he said, accepting Mike's hand and shaking.

"Pleasure to meet you, son."

"Same here, sir."

Mike waved him away. "No need for that, I'm not that old, kid."

"Yet you are old enough to call me kid?"

Mike smiled. "I like that you got wit about you."

# The Baltic Sea

An odd sensation overcame John as he stepped off of the plane, as if he was becoming more and more alive after a very long sleep; every inch of his body from his toes tingled as if surging with more strength and will. He also felt more centered, less conflicted about his past and present, and, perhaps oddest of all, as if he had an onboard compass directing him toward the city.

With only his backpack flung on his back holding the few items he'd brought, he headed toward god knew where from the small airport.

The buildings he passed were different from those in Simpsonville. Older, yet teeming with history. The briny scent of the sea carried on the breeze as he walked, as he listened to the people around him speak a language that John was certain was Russian. Although John had never visited the country before, he felt a tug of familiarity at each new detail he absorbed.

At a cave claimed by the coven, a handful of the members had gathered for a meeting behind closed doors.

"Really, how are we supposed to deal with these cameras and body scanners everywhere?" Ivan pointed at random locations in the air, as if to make a point. The risk of technology blowing their cover had become increasingly worse; it would never get better, not with the constant new advances made to a never ending schedule. "Any creature, vampire _or_ human, can no longer take a step in most countries without it being tracked," he continued. "How long until there are scanners that will make them aware of our presence? How long until these devices ruin everything we have spent centuries building?"

The slap of clapping hands came from behind the group in the shadows. "Great speech," said a voice that sounded very much like Vitaliy. "However, since the other covens have control over these humans, we have nothing to be scared of. Do you really think, after being alive as long as the ancients, they would not be somehow in control of these things?" His voice held contempt. "Two of the ancient ones have worked very hard to pull the reins on all the companies that do the hunting and tracking for Governments. No need to fuss over these things youngsters."

Vitaliy left the shadows and stalked to the center of the room, taking his time to look everyone present in eye. "These times are not so scary, and we have other things to consider closely. Like, where are we going to take our next gamble in business, boys?"

"Really, you are not worried about the others having all the power over this? Could this not be used as a way to end all dispute against our coven?" asked Drakus. "How much longer should we allow them to have this monopoly on the humans tracking systems?"

Adela strode into the room. "Drakus, Drakus, Drakus, you should be on a TV drama show, but your grandstanding is unwanted today. Vitaliy, good to see you again." She nodded toward the other vampire. "Is there any news from the other covens worth bringing up?"

"Only behind closed doors, my lady. Our matters are not for the ears of the younger coven." Vitaliy gave a slight bow towards his coven leader as he spoke.

Her eyebrows lowered a little. "Is it anything pressing?"

"Nothing that cannot wait a few days, ma'am."

"Oh, how I have missed you on my court. Have you anything for these youngsters?"

"Other than advising them to not worry over conspiracy theories, I have nothing at all. May I retire back to my room?"

"Of course you may. This trip must have been a long and tiresome one for you."

Vitaliy bowed once more, like an aristocratic man of a royal family, and saw himself out of the room.

Adela glided across the room until behind Drakus. "I am completely bored and tired of your antics in this coven," she said in a soft voice, rounding him. "Are you trying to corrupt my coven, or just trying to feel important?"

Although she looked at him with hidden interests, Drakus had difficulty meeting her eyes, knowing that she could remove his head from his shoulders without even breaking a sweat. "No, not at all, ma'am," he said, his voice trembling. "I am merely worried about the well-being of our coven. Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect."

Her breath brushed the back of his neck and ear as her fingertips tapped against his shoulder. Drakus hadn't even registered her spectral move. Close to his ear, and in a voice so faint only he could hear the demonic undertones, she whispered: "If you ever go behind my back and voice your concerns again..." She slipped her slender fingers around his neck. "I will crush your throat and rip your skull off your shoulders. Do you understand me?"

Trembling, he nodded. "Yes, yes, my mistress. Please forgive me."

Everyone else in the room seemed to be holding their breaths, as though in fear of an attack on themselves.

Adela glanced around at them all. "My coven, my beloved coven, am I not fair and always take care of you?"

All eyes cast down. Threats and attacks were not her usual method of control, which only scared the coven even more.

"I will not tolerate any more secret meeting in dark corners of my castle," she said clearly. "Is that understood by everyone here?"

All heads nodded as they all murmured, "Yes."

At the other end of the castle, Gala paced her room attempting to work off the odd, disturbing feeling that had overcome her. As if the walls were caving in, control seemed to be slipping from her as love, anger, fear and confusion all swirled through her at the same time. The man who invoked these feelings, she hated him, loved him, wanted to kill him, even to make love to him.

Gala could make no sense of it all. She had only met him once — when she saved his life — and so had no clue why she would be drawn to that time and that place on the other side of the planet. Why would she be feeling such emotions? She never had before — not once in her life.

She paused before her mirror and fussed with her hair, before reaching over and cranking up her radio — anything to avoid thinking about him.

Walking through the streets of Lithuania, John found himself in a strange state of being. He felt stronger, more energetic — in love, despite not knowing the cause. All he thinks about was the girl who saved him. Her eyes, different to any others he'd seen. Not just because they seemed to fluctuate between blue and green, but because she had a different _look_ behind them, making her a mystery and enigma that maybe no man could ever figure out.

All John could dream about was to meet the mystery woman and try to win her heart. Embarrassment, feeling foolish over his fantasy about a woman he didn't even know to be real, couldn't even stop his urges. Because each time he thought of her, it sent a smile onto his face and put a skip into his step.

# The Pub

Cutting around a familiar corner, John spotted a pub he'd seen in his dreams. The very club that the haunting woman went into, to collect a payment he believed. Being there, seeing it, rattled John's nerves, the likeness uncanny, and a warmth washed through him, a powerful sensation like she could feel his presence as much as he could hers.

Heat washed through Gala, as emotions not her own bled into her soul. How...? she wondered, How can this be?

She closed her eyes, and almost jolted at what appeared within her mind — a pub, one she had visited, as though seeing it through his eyes, much like he had done through her eyes in his sleep.

Opening her eyes, Gala grabbed her keys off her dresser and made her way to her car as quickly as she could. Although unsure why she felt sure he was in grave danger.

The wheels to her car spun wildly from the raw power of her engine. Small white stones from the castles driveway sprayed up into the air from her tires. Her speed burned black marks onto the road as she reached it, catching everyone's attention that was within the castle.

No one had ever seen Gala leave the castle in such a manner, and as Adela watched on, she already knew the younger vampire was headed to her Guardian. The union between the two could only be a good thing, and Adela smiled at the knowledge that, soon, Gala would have the strength to lead the coven out of the control of the other covens.

Adela, being the youngest of the ancients, had to abide by their every demand, for she could not protect her coven from their strength. She looked forward to the day her clan would no longer be enslaved by the others, for it would also be the day she would see revenge for what happened to her Guardian.

John sat at the end of the bar in the far corner, hoping not to make it clear to the locals that he was from out of town. Best to avoid problems in a country whose language he could not speak.

At John's motioned for assistance, the barkeeper, a huge two hundred and sixty pound beast of a man complete with hairy knuckles, bustled over to where John sat.

John nodded to him and said, "Beer."

The keep looked at him for a moment, before grunting and shuffled to the tap. Taking a tall glass, he filled it with an equal blend of local brew and foam. Back before John, he skimmed the drink down on the counter and held out his hand. "Here. Five dollars."

John reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of weird paper money. "How much from this?" he asked.

The keep took a few different notes from him and pointed a finger, though he didn't appear threatening. "You need to learn the money from here. Others — they will rob you."

John could only nod to the giant of a man in front of him.

An hour had gone by, and John had figured out which of the strangely colored notes would pay for each drink. As a result, he had knocked back more than a few, but he still spotted some of the locals glances in his direction, the whispering amongst them. They could have been talking about John, but he hoped it was just a bad case of paranoia — though when two of the three men rose from their seats while whispering to each other, John started to get a bad feeling in his gut.

The men who'd stood began to make their way towards him, as the third stretching his neck as if trying to see what was going on.

Trying his best not to show his nerves, John calmed his expression, even as the duo drew alongside him and one bent closer.

"Where you from?" he asked.

John took a moment before replying, "America."

The men glanced at each other and smirked around their drunken snickers. "Why, pig, you here?" the one man said abruptly."

Letting the drink fuel his courage, John laughed. "Having a beer." He tipped his glass. "Having a lot of beer."

The one man grabbed hold of John by the shoulder and attempted to rip him off his stool, but was too nimble, as well as too fast. Catching his balance, John rolled under his shoulder and stepped back until standing face to face with the attacker a good arm's length away. Before the guy could react, he grabbed the hand still holding his shoulder and pressed it in place. Winking at his opponent, John swung his left leg around the back of the man's calves, grabbing the guy's elbow held in place by John's hand all in the same move, which he followed with an upward shove that rammed the elbow towards the owner's head and a rapid one-eighty degree spin.

As soon as the man unbalanced, John pushed him to the ground, forcing him down by wrenching his elbow.

A quick glance up showed everyone in the bar staring John's way, and he let up his pressure on the man's elbow a little, allowing the guy to stand, but as soon as opponent tried standing, John forced him back to his knees by rolling his hand over the man's elbow, repeating the action a few times until the man sank completely to the ground.

"Stop!" he said from below John.

As if the command finally triggered a response, the guy's friend charged towards John, but John dragged his captive up and thrust him forth into the second attacker.

The bar's other patrons began getting up from their tables, their unsure glances passing between each other and toward John.

Damn it, how do I get into trouble on my first day in town?

Some of the men from different tables began making their way towards John. Only a few of them cracked their knuckles, but all had the intent of harm in their eyes.

John stepped backward even though there didn't seem to be a way out of the oncoming disaster.

The first man lunged forward with a knife, and John sidestepped, using his hand to guide the knife away while taking hold of the man's wrist. Slipping around the back of the man, he shoved the guy's arm up at elbow until tucked beneath the man's chin. Dropping to one knee, he forced the man into a strange backbend, and wedging his knee beneath the attacker's elbow as a lever, he grabbed the guy's wrist and yanked back until the knife slipped from his grasp and clatter to the floor. Before the guy could do anything more, John thrust up to his feet and kicked the guy in the face before spinning, ready for the next attacker.

At John's feet, the guy rolled onto his side, grabbing his elbow and howling a complaint.

Obviously, John had hurt him. He just didn't know how or when he'd learned how to do it.

One after another, men attacked him. John plowed through them all. Forcing them to the ground or using their bodies as projectiles and tossing them against another oncoming assaulter. The more John fought, the more he became awash with a strange strength — one he felt certain the girl from his dreams had provided, a female he knew beyond doubt or reason to be on her way.

A white light flashed before his eyes as a blinding blow smacked the back of his head.

Behind John, wood cracked against the ground as if shattered to pieces.

Rage ran rampant through John, and he spun, his fist already aiming for the accused, connecting with the guy's jaw. Again. A third time. Left, right, left. The final uppercut beneath the man's chin sent him flying backward a good five feet, and into the wall.

With little time to consider where this unusual power had arisen from, John whirled gain to face more attackers. One punch was thrown after another. One guy tossed against another. Until the barkeeper emerged from around the bar and, snatching John up by the back of the neck, hauled him off his feet.

Yellow glowed from the barkeeper's eyes.

John thrust out a punch that hit him in the throat, and the second the barman let go, John swiped his arm up between the barkeeper's legs. Pushing to his own feet as he did so, John lifted the barkeeper with him and, grabbing him by his collar, slammed him headfirst against the ground.

A hand grabbed his shoulder. John went to throw them off but stopped as a strange hum of power buzzing through himself. As if by some powerful source of telepathy, John knew the woman from his dreams had also experienced the strange surge of electricity.

In that moment, the recognition blasted through him, through her, through them both — until dizziness kicked in and John lost conscious.

Using her vampire strength, Gala flung John's limp and helpless body up and onto her shoulder before he could hit the ground. "What the hell happened here!" she demanded of the bar's patrons.

The barkeeper rose to one knee, his hand resting atop it, and looked at her while blood was dripping from his skull. "Some of the men attacked him." His breaths panted from him. "Before I knew it, they all attacked him, and he was ripping the place apart with them. What is he?" he asked, "He overpowered even me."

The tapping of her shoed toes against the floor showed Gala's impatience. "Are you telling me a wolf could not handle a simple human?"

Wiping his face with his hand, the barkeeper blew out a breath. "Human, my ass! No human his size could pick me up and slam me to the ground like that."

Gala stared at him, her eyes wide. "He is but a mere human. Now, clean this up. And did anyone notice anything?"

The barkeeper climbed to his feet. "No, nothing, no one."

Gala headed towards the door with John's almost lifeless body draped over her shoulder. Outside, she took care as she placed him in the passenger seat of her car.

Anger consumed her on the drive back to the castle. An overwhelming anger that left questions — ones with no answers — filing through her mind. What is he doing here? How did he find me? How could he keep ending up in her life?

And how can I love someone I barely know?

For she knew she loved him, and the realization only angered her further. She had always valued her independence, her lack of significant other to whom she'd be expected to show consideration.

Little did she understand: The man beside her would give everything he had, including his life, for her.

# The Guest

The main doors of the castle slammed open beneath Gala's shove, bringing with it a gust of wind that smelled of the Baltic Sea, only a stone's throw from the old castle.

Several onlookers stared Gala's way, their eyes widening at the lifeless body draped over her shoulder.

Up the right side of the double-spiraled staircase, she carried John from the entrance way. The second-floor hallway at the top had been left open, only a handrail separating spectators from the elegant and old stone floors of the great room below.

The room was, for the most part, circular, and customary to the rest of the stone building, its ceilings over fifteen feet high. Only two stories in total, the great hall boasted of a ceiling decorated in old wooden trusses, which ran across to show their support, around what appeared to be an ancient chandelier, its once-upon-a-time candles replaced by bulbs.

Unsure what she's intended to do with him once there, Gala took John directly to her own room, where she laid him down on her bed.

She took care over placing his head on the pillow, certain not to cause further damage to the injuries he'd already sustained.

Experience told her the castle would already be abuzz with gossip about the human she had dragged in. Settling herself onto the far corner of the bed, she studied him, her hand on her face. What do I do with you? She wondered. The others would want to kill him and she already knew she could not allow that. Why do I want to protect you?

Beyond the white cotton canopy of her bed, the ceiling offered little answer as her gaze moved to there, her mind asking the constant question of what to do.

Looking back to John, she inched her way towards him and lightly caressed his face with her small hands. "How did you slam a wolf of his size?" His stubble scratched her palm with another stroke of her hand. "Please," she said softly, "tell me why you are here."

A loud rapping hit the other side of the door before it opened to reveal Adela. No invitation needed, she seemed to float into the room, moving so eloquently it was as if her feet didn't take a singular step beneath her long dresses. "The boys are all worked up over your little guest." The softness of Adela's tone led Gala to believe the ancient was happy. "They said you brought your food home tonight."

Gala frowned at Adela, pleading with her eyes as if asking, What can I do?

Adela ran her hand through Gala's hair, usually a calming action. "We have much to speak of, young one. You did the right thing, and there is much I need to tell you."

Gala stared up at her. "Adela, I do not know why this man haunts me."

Adela laughed quietly. "He is going to drive you nuts, my dear. He will love you more than he loves anything else, including himself. You will not understand for a while." Smiling, Adela rolled her eyes before cradling Gala's head to her chest. "You make him stronger and better. I know you, and you are a free spirit, but you need to understand that he will always want to protect you."

Gala pulled back from Adela. "What do you mean, protect me? He almost died again. This is the second time I've saved him now."

Moving closer to John, where he lay, Adela sat down beside him. "You will need to take care of him, while he grows stronger. He will have moments like this when he will use up all his strength, and then he will get stronger again." She glanced to Gala. "He is what we used to call a Guardian, and speaking of one is forbidden. There was once a few of them. They were rare, but each one belonged to a vampire, like a life mate. They are born only to belong to a vampire, and it is when they meet the Guardian that they begin to gain strength. Sometimes, the vampire it belongs to gains strength, too." Her focus returned to John. "The ancients ordered them all killed in the fear that the Guardian's would gain enough strength to kill an ancient. My Guardian was the last one known of."

Gala frowned. "What do you mean? Are you saying he is my Guardian? No one has ever, or will ever, control me!"

Adela didn't seem surprised - Gala stood and fisted her hands. "He is yours," Adela told her sternly, "and the name is just the name because they will do anything it takes to guard your life. If a Guardian's vampire dies, the Guardian usually dies also, always of a broken heart. Each one has different attributes and strengths, a lot like we do. You need to protect him when he is weak, and push him to grow. My dear, I believed this whole time that he would be drawn to you."

A knock sounded at the door. At Adela's, "Come in, Vitaliy," the visitor entered the room. Vitaliy looked at the body sprawled out on the bed. "Is that what I think it is, my lady?"

Adela winked at her faithful servant. "Yes, it is my dear friend."

Vitaliy clasped his hands together, appearing to be in thought for a moment. "So, you're telling me our little Gala has her own Guardian?"

"I am right here, in the room, you know," Gala grumbled. "Why are you two so happy about this, anyway?"

A hand sweep from Adela suggested Vitaliy could explain.

"My dear child," he began, "we have been waiting for a long time to be out from under the thumb of the other covens." His arm extended from the sleeve of the long velvet coat trimmed with lacy cuffs he wore, and silver cufflinks glinted on his wrist as he pointed at John's form on the bed.

"A Guardian is the only thing that can give us a chance to take out the ancients and give us real freedom," Adela said before Vitaliy could continue. "The covens have always feared the Guardians, which is why they were hunted to extinction, until now. My dear, your instincts took you across the ocean to save him, and he brought him back to you. Do you not believe that this is something bigger than you can understand?"

Confusion filled the young female vampire's eyes as she studied the man who'd fell across her path once again.

"We have pressing issues and will leave you alone with him," Adela said gently. "Be kind to him."

Once out in the hallway, Adela and Vitaliy switched to speaking in an ancient tongue to avoid being overheard.

"Adela, are you sure?" Vitaliy asked. "Are you certain we can trust him with her?"

"My old friend, are you afraid that she will feed on him, or turn him?"

"My lady, I know that we step upon glass in order not to offend her. We are always so careful not to enrage her anger. We both know she is different and has her moments."

Adela sighed... "Yes, she is different, but the connection is undeniable between them. She will probably damage his heart a lot, with her confusing and enchanting ways, but he will grow stronger — in this, I trust. And, in turn, his Guardian devotion to her will drive her mad. But they will grow stronger together." Adela faced Vitaliy and placed a hand on his shoulder, the other gently patting his cheek. "My old friend, you need to trust me," she whispered. "Because I alone know what the bond is like."

Vitaliy smiled slightly. "Yes, I remember how you and yours were." He laughed softly. "You two were a great team." His expression grew solemn once more. "Adela, I hope you realize that we do have cause for concern with Drakus's concerns. I heard them talking about using their connections to take out a younger coven that was out of control and using their humans as the weapon. Turning them into zombies, an infection caused by some unknown drug. My lady, they decided against it this time, but with them having this on the plate we are all in a far more dangerous place than we believed."

Adela frowned but did not appear surprised by the news. "I believed this much could come to be, meaning the arrival of Gala's Guardian is perfect timing." She nodded, as though agreeing with her own ideas. "We need to train him, as quickly as we can before they realize we have what they fear the most."

Meeting the conviction in Adela's stare with that of his own, Vitaliy nodded. "Of course, my lady. How will we handle the training?"

A dark smile spread Adela's beautiful, soft pink lips. "We will use the wolves to train him," she whispered, almost to herself. "Bernandas will be his trainer."

Vitaliy's brow creased. "Why?"

"Because they will never warn the others of his existence before we can get him up to strength. We will then use our best hunters to train him further." She sighed, "I pray that time is on our side before they find out about him and come hunting."

Hours had passed, and Gala paced back and forth as though wearing a discernible path into the old wooden floorboards. Since her exchange with the ancient Adela, she had changed into form-fitting black pants, and a peach colored, woven shirt over a white cotton turtleneck. Her mysterious yet alluring eyes seemed to be focused and everything and nothing, at everything yet nowhere, all at the same time. She had been known to mesmerize many with her odd yet beautifully eccentric mannerisms.

As she stalked, the questions soared through her head. How could John have hurled and slammed Alex in such away — a hundred and sixty-five-pound man tossing a two hundred and sixty-pound bulk as if flicking aside a rag doll? What did this mean — what could his potential be? Could he actually be what Adela believed?

At twitching from over on the bed, Gala's stride faltered, and she sprang over to John's side. Sitting beside him, she caressed his cheek as his twitching continued as if the man was trapped in a nightmare.

Behind his rapidly shuddering eyes, John witnessed a clear vision of what happened on that night a long, long time ago.

All four of them had gone along for the cruise in Keith's new lancer, blasting music and laughing, as the car whipped around the corners. John's girlfriend, Kathy, had sat in the front, while John had taken the rear seat with Tom. Kathy insisted she should ride shotgun for the trip.

As they always did, they all cracked the usual jokes about each other. Tom was midway through one they'd heard before when, coming out of a bend with the tires squawking, an old lady appeared in their path.

Keith yanked the steering wheel to the right, swerving around her, then to the left in an attempt to correct, but he overcorrected, and the car began to lean too far to the side.

Panic claimed Keith's face as he steered left and right, small, jerky movements to hopefully regain the car's traction. Everyone in the car held their breath, praying — until the car began to flip off its wheels.

Everyone's breath returned with their screams — Kathy's more bloodcurdling than anyone else's. Hands braced against the roof as the driver's side front wing crunched against the ground. As the roof followed, it slammed into the road beneath it and bounced back up then down — a constant metal-grinding bobbing as the car scraped across the pavement with too much speed.

A pothole ended the erratic skidding by flipping the car back up into the air. The passenger side roof smacked the ground next, sending the car into a roll until it slammed into the side of the building, where it bounced back off and came to a standstill a few feet away from the wall.

Smashed glass glittered the car's interior. The exterior resembled a crumpled up beer can that had been ejected onto the city streets.

All four passengers hung from their seat belts. Keith and Tom appeared to be out cold. Kathy's screams still pierced the night as she kicked and thrashed around in her suspended prison of a seatbelt. What felt like warm blood ran down John's face, but how bad the wound was that caused it, he couldn't be sure — and, besides, he had bigger issues with trying to calm down Kathy.

Taking deep breaths to steady himself, he reached down for a glass shard and began using it to cut through the seatbelt holding him fast. Chin tucked in close to his chest, he made one small knick at a time, gritting his teeth as the makeshift blade cut into his flesh. He couldn't worry about himself, though — not while Kathy's screams continued, despite the words of calm he called to her. If she didn't stop flailing soon, she would end up even more hurt than she already was.

The belt finally snapped, and he fell headfirst into the misshapen roof of the car beneath him, the glass slicing at his forehead as he landed. He twisted until he could see Kathy, his pulse lurching at flames dancing along the mangled hood beyond where the windshield once was, and the acrid stench of the fire stinging his nostrils.

He refocused on Kathy. "Hold on, baby bird," he said, reaching out his hand for hers until their fingertips brushed. "All is going to be..."

Something grabbed his ankle and ripped him from the car before he could finish the sentence. In the next breath, he flew toward some dumpsters. As his back slammed up against them, a woman appeared in front of him, shielding the back of his head with the palm of her hand. The car exploded, and she placed her other hand against the dumpster, appearing to be pushing back against the blast. With his face pressed to her warm bosom, he felt her muscles straining as they and the dumpster propelled back and slammed up against the wall, five feet behind them.

As she leaned back, John's face freed from the safe haven that was her chest. Her eyes came into view, for the first time appearing frightened and shaken, yet John felt a strong sense of belonging as he stared into them.

Her face lowered, and she kissed his head. As she removed her lips from his flesh, she vanished.

John's breathing began to settle from its moments — before rapidity. "Shush, shush," Gala whispered. "It's going to be okay. Shush." She kissed his head and his cheek. "Please calm down, I am here now."

At she planted more kisses, and laid out more murmured reassurances, her feelings for him swelled within her. The sensation terrified her, even as John sank back into a sound sleep, and she laid her head on his chest against the sound of his heartbeats.

# Rebirth?

A few days had gone by, and Gala was beginning to wonder if John would ever regain consciousness. She had only left his side when Adela watched over him. After having more time to speak to Adela, Gala realized they needed to keep John safe for as long as they could until he could gain enough strength to protect himself.

On watch over the stranger beside her, Gala leaned against the headboard of her bed, reading a book, carefully turning each page with her delicate fingers.

With a twitch of his fingers and a change in his breathing, John finally began to stir. Pausing in her reading, Gala cocked her head before setting down the book on the table beside her antique wooden bed. She rolled onto her side facing him, propping herself with a hand beneath her head. "Good evening, stranger," she said as his eyelids fluttered, a slightly evil smile upon her lips. "Take it easy. It would appear you wore yourself out in your little fight at the pub."

Though blurry to begin, John's sight soon cleared enough for the angelically beautiful woman's face to come into focus — the most exquisite thing he had ever laid eyes upon.

He reached out his hand, which she took into her own and guided to her face. As his hand brushed her milky white skin, its softness like that of the finest silk, her eyes drifted shut.

Her chest rose with a deep breath, and her eyes reopened. "I believe it is time we get you fed. You must be starving."

Unsure, or maybe unable to, respond, John just nodded his head.

Sliding from the bed as eloquently as a ballerina, Gala reached back for his hand and gently helped him out of bed. The days without food, as well as the fight, had left him weakened. Her hair flicked over her shoulder as she spun, and, keeping his hand in hers, she led the way out the door and into the hallway.

The floor there was made of very old barn wood, the walls of stone and mortar. The lights adorning the walls even six feet resembled candle holders. They passed a stairwell that spun into a half circle leading into a lower level, as she guided him through the maze of hallways until they made it to the kitchen, which seemed to be placed in some back wall of the castle.

The kitchen had an old wooden table at the far corner, sat in the moonlight shining in through the small window. The rest of the furniture was very modern. To the left, a ten-burner stove made of stainless steel stood out, not something one would expect to see in an older castle.

At Gala's motion to do so, John took a seat on one of the stools alongside the center island.

Gala smiled as she mixed a pancake mix, as though enjoying the chance to cook for a guest. "I hope you're hungry. I am making a huge amount. Though, after two and a half days you should be able to eat a horse." Her tone was playful as she threw everything together. "I will show you around the castle a little later, but you can never venture too far away from my side because it is not safe."

John took a moment to absorb that before answering, "You mean because you're all vampires and I am a human?"

Gala's lips parted and shock flashed in her eyes. "How do you know? That we are all vampires?"

"Are you not?"

"Why, yes, but how did you know?"

"I am not sure." His fingertip drew a lazy circle on the center island. "It is like I can just feel you, and my senses told me you were a vampire." He gave a small shrug. "So I guessed everyone else here had to be also."

Gala's frown showed her uncertainty. In a way, she was relieved that she did not need to break it to him. In another, it scared her.

Adela seemed to float into the room with the eloquence one would expect of a Royal woman. Merely viewing the female brought to mind visions of aristocratic royal families from the grand old era. She carried grace in her manner of the kind one could only be born, and an aura of overwhelming power that demanded respect and fear all in the same heartbeat.

Pausing at the corner of the bar, she rested her hand atop it and address Gala. "So, you're starting to feed the stray that followed you from the streets of the good old U.S.A." Warm pondering shone from her eyes when she looked at John. "You know, little boy, you need to be careful. One could rip out your heart without any hesitation. But do not worry, because you will come back for more and more." She passed behind Gala, running her fingers affectionately through the hair of the younger vampire, and leaned in close to Gala's ear. "My little girl," she whispered, "I know you, and he is going to drive you mad. Please do not kill him."

Gala nodded, a smile on her lips

After a kiss to the back of her ear and a slight nip, Adela continued, "He will connect with you in ways you will not understand and will feel more and more of a need to be with you.

We are taking him to the wolves training grounds, the day after tomorrow, where you will stay with him and encourage his training."

As Adela began to walk away, Gala lifted the skillet off the fire. "What about my duties and taking care of my part of the business?"

"He is duty number one for you, as of now," Adela commanded. "Until he is strong enough to protect himself, you need to be at his side at all times."

Gala nodded, and both vampires turned to John in sequence and smiled.

John did not know where he should be scared or delighted with his newfound life — his being reborn, of sorts.

He jumped when Vitaliy appeared behind John, his approach silent to all but Adela, and placed his hands on John's shoulders. He shot to a stand on the stool's rung and spun himself to the floor. As he flung an arm around Vitaliy's neck, a move he'd done before with ease, he found himself on the other side of the kitchen with Vitaliy's foot at his throat.

He blinked up at his assaulter with no idea of how he'd moved so fast. His muscles tensed for further defense, but relaxed when Vitaliy made no second move to harm him.

"Did you see that, Gala?" Vitaliy asked, glancing across the kitchen at the other vampire. "Did you see how no one had a chance to save him? Some of the ancients could be, and most likely are, faster than myself. You must always be on guard." Removing his foot from John's throat, Vitaliy reached out a hand to John. "The good news is, he has skill, and we need to develop it as his strengths start to reveal themselves."

John frowned. "What do you mean?"

Vitaliy smirked and said, " In due time, my young friend. In due time."

# The Wolves Den

A crisp and damp night coated the forest that John found himself in with Gala and Adela. Wolves howled in the distance, their mournful cries growing gradually louder.

Adela stepped forward. "John, you will need to listen and trust these men. They are going to help you develop your new strengths."

John still didn't understand the full berth of his situation. "What are you talking about? What do you mean new strengths?"

Placing one hand on John's shoulder, she whispered close to his ear, "You belong to her, and as you two grow, you will find yourself with more and more abilities. You are something very rare and, as far as I know the first one in almost a millennium."

John's eyes widened. "How do you know this?" he asked beneath his breath, somehow knowing she would hear him.

"Because, my dear boy, I watched my Guardian have his heart ripped from his chest trying to save me."

John gasped. "Will this happen to me?" he asked, nerves shaking his voice.

Grasping his shoulder in a reassuring way, she answered, "Not if we can train you before they realize you are a Guardian. That is why the wolves are training you."

The sound of feet beating the ground approached before quieting. A moment later, from out of the mist walked a group of shirtless men, accompanied a few clothed women.

One of the females stepped straight into the moonbeams, as if a perfect soft spotlight, setting a shine to her long blonde hair. The blue of her eyes seemed to sparkle with enough power to cut through the sky. She stretched her back and neck in a manner that showed off her perfectly curved body before strutting toward John; the almost unreal sway of her hips was sexier to him than anything else he'd seen. After standing before him and looking him up and down, she spun on her heels. "Not too shabby," she said, turning her head enough to show John her profile. "If you want a warm body to curl up with, you might want to seek a woman a little more like me."

Adela darted forward and grabbed Gala by her throat, as the vampire took a step toward the blonde female. "Gala, no matter what she says, or tries, a Guardian will never leave the one he was born for. You will better understand this later on, so no catfights. I am serious when I say we need them to train him before the other vampire clans catch wind of him."

A monstrous chuckle rumbled the ground, seeming to emerge from the mist surrounding the trees. From within stepped one of the largest men John had ever seen. "Adela, it seems as though we have a bit of catting going on between a bitch and a vamp."

Adela gave a hearty laugh. "Yes, yes, Bernandas, it does seem that way. You know girls will be girls."

Bernandas opened his massive arms, and as Adela stepped into them, he enveloped her in his powerful grasp. "Adela, are you sure about this?"

"Yes, this is the first chance we have had in a millennium to go after the ancients."

He sighed and peered down into his old friend's eyes. "You know what happened last time?"

"Yes, that is why you need to train him without my coven knowing. I have led my coven to believe that he is Gala's familiar, who was attacked but too valuable to replace with another."

Bernandas took Adela's chin into his palm and tilted it up so until her eyes met his from her much lesser height. "Adela, my pack will do their best." Releasing the vampire, he gave a loud thunderous clap of his hands. "Alright!" His voice seemed to roar as he spoke. "It is time we get things rolling. John, you are going to follow Vixen through this path, which begins here," he said, pointing to a worn trail to his right, "and will end there." He pointed to his far left. "Vixen is to set the pace, and you will do your best to keep up." Pulling Vixen aside, he said, "Not too fast on the first round. We need to figure out what he can handle before we push him. Do you understand me?"

With the sway that seemed natural to her, she strolled away. "Yeah, I got it. Don't hurt the vamp's little toy too much. I will just give him what he can handle."

She turned and winked at John, and fury filled Gala's features, but she kept her mouth shut, as ordered by her lady.

Vixen hunkered down, as though in place to start a race. She glanced back over her shoulder, her tone flirty as she said, "Try to keep your eyes on the train instead of my tail." She winked again at John, and Gala's hand fisted. "I know it will be hard to do with such a nice hard tail in front of you," Vixen added.

"Enough!" Bernandas said and crouched down beside John. "Listen, boy, do your best to keep up, she is one of my best. This is just to let us measure you, so keep your eyes out for targets, but skip them until the next run." Bernandas straightened and stood before them. "Ready, Set, Go!"

Vixen tore off in ahead of John, coating him in a layer of kicked-up dust.

Bernandas howled after her. "Stop showing off, and slow down for him."

His legs powering him forward, John soon caught up with her, feeling the strain as they headed up a steep inclined hill and wove around trees. Log lay in their path, forcing them to jump over, among other obstacles, around which John ducked, jumped and rolled, landing on his feet running each time.

Impressed by John's endurance, Vixen stepped up the pace as they came to the top of a clearing, and took a sharp left, which left John to leave the trail in order to curve back around and play catch up with her again. The new path was rockier, housing huge stones and boulders that required zigzagging around. A creak provided further blockage, the uneven bed causing the levels to be anything from knee to thigh high.

Vixen laughed as they splashed out of the other side. "Don't worry, we will be dry before the end."

Concern spread through John. How far could it be? His eyes seemed weird, and he felt certain he could see more and more in the dark as he chased her through the spooky forest. Though he had to admit, it wasn't a bad view to be following.

Her rump was fully rounded, set perfectly amid the toned and athletic build of the rest of her body. Head to toe, she was a marvelous creature to bestow.

As she raced, she pointed out targets, which appeared to be meant for hitting, like a wolf's version of a shooting gallery.

The more he ran, the more a strange energy seemed to wash through John, pulsing through his hands and arms. His eyes felt as if they had electricity charging within them.

The closer they grew to the end of the seven-mile course, the more John could feel Gala. Her presence, her worry. He broke into the clearing to find her waiting with arms wide open. He headed straight for her, but his left foot was ripped from the ground. In the next breath, he was flipped upside down, to hang almost nose-to-nose with Gala. A snare he hadn't known to be there.

Gala kissed his nose with a wink. "Next time, there will be more traps set up, and you will need to dodge them." She kissed him again and motioned for someone to cut him down. "Believe me, when I say, it is for your own good." She stepped away as he was cut down. "Hurry now, you need to shower, and then I will feed you."

Off beside a campfire of their own, Bernandas and Adela laughed over wine, as tales of old times were mused over, and their long, long history together became evident.

Pure muscle, and six and a half feet at his full, the three hundred pound Bernandas dwarfed all other men, let alone Adela sat at his side as John joined them.

As though she sensed his immediate glances in search of Gala, Adela paused in her conversation and laid her hand on his knee. "She will be right back. She is getting your meal together. You did well today, better than we had expected."

At she turned back to Bernandas, the conversation resumed, about how things were getting harder and harder with all of the human's technology tracking every movement of almost everything that anyone or thing did. They had the same concerns, with the three eldest ancients controlling the different groups through their corporations. Men acting as transitioning puppets for their grand scheme of keeping everyone under their control. There appeared to be five mega corporations pulling the strings, but the world would never see the three monsters behind them. As John listened in, they also spoke of the questions behind the claims that another ancient existed, one whom none dare spoke of. The rumors had been whispered in corners for all of Adela's life, enough for her question it somewhat. Who knew what could be true and what might not? They had to be careful, though, as speaking of certain topics could result in one's death by the ancients, exactly as Adela and Bernandas had been doing.

Spotting Gala through the shadows, John grinned, pushing to his feet at her motion for him to follow her. Even with as a small a time as they had been separated, he was already missing her.

As he reached her, she took his hand and led him through the dark woods to a small fire, where she encouraged him down upon a blanket laid there.

A huge feast awaited also — one prepared by Gala. She smiled and told him to eat.

Sampling a bit of what looked like roasted pork, he smiled at its exquisite flavors and soon reached out for more.

"We are staying with the wolves for a while until we get you trained better," Gala said as John ate.

He set his plate on his lap. "Why are we hiding from your coven?"

She seemed to ponder her answer for a moment, before answering, "A Guardian sometimes is born and is attached to a vampire, but it is the law that the Guardians have to be killed." Sadness swamped her beautiful features as she explained. "Each Guardian has different abilities, as does each vampire, but the ancients fear Guardians because it is said they have the ability to kill them. What you need to understand, is that as a vampire gets older, its abilities and strength grow stronger and stronger, until other Earthbound creatures no longer stand a chance against them. An ancient is even stronger than that — unstoppable by anything, other than perhaps a Guardian." Tearing off a hunk of bread, she lifted it to John's lips and urged him to open it before continuing, "For some reason, a Guardian grows faster than a vampire, but only because of its bond with its vampire. If the vampire that the Guardian belongs to dies, the Guardian dies of a broken heart. That is why the Guardian always sacrifices itself for its mate. This is why there is a secret hunt for a book called "The Guardian-Journal." It is said to reveal all of the secrets. Vitaly has been hunting it and other forbidden books for longer than I want to know."

She poured him a glass of tea and the sat there peering toward the fire. After a few moments, she tilted her head back, her gaze lifting to his, and as she leaned forward, he met her advancement, pulling her closer and kissing her. Sliding a hand to the back of his neck, she pulled him closer still, and he threaded his fingers through her full hair.

Her back arched until she leaned farther and farther back the deeper they kissed. The tips of her hair brushed the blanket, as John ran his hand up the curve of her arched back to her bra strap, undoing the clasp with just one hand. As it released, she grinned against his lips, her eyes shining and widening even more than usual. John loved how their shade shimmered from blue to green and enthralled him.

As she lay back onto the blanket, he ran a hand up her perfectly tone leg, lowering himself over her. His pelvis pressed into her, and their kisses deepened. Her breathing grew heavy as he tugged up her shirt up to reveal the wondrous treasures beneath, and he prayed to God that she would not stop him.

Her legs enveloped his as she worked her tight-fitted shirt from over her arms, and his lips, his tongue explored her awaiting flesh.

As her partner, John already seemed acutely aware of exactly what she wanted, where she wanted to be touched. Her overwhelming passion and lust that left her feeling as if she would implode ranged through John, also.

Her fingers clasped at the hem of his shirt and pulled, and John grabbed and slid it over his head to reveal his chiseled arms and chest.

Gala stared for a moment. He hadn't been built like that earlier.

Drawing him back to her, she kissed him harder, as she worked her pants down off her hips until John took over.

In his haste, the pants tore, her panties following them, and below him a perfect body John had ever seen. Shaved, as smooth as a goddess. Everything about her called to him, right down to the piercing in her navel.

Wanting to savor, he took his time planting soft kisses along her leg, giving tiny nips and licks to every part, from the sides of her feet to the back of her knee, relaxing further and further into the blanket with each additional caress. Working his way back up, he kissed her inner thighs, and higher still, until he finally came to the set of lips that he had been waiting for. He could not wait any longer, but as he moved to place a stroke there, her hand cupped his neck, and she pulled her up until over her once more.

Although a little disappointed by her motion, he did not resist, kissing softly over her body, her breasts, along the curve of her neck and chin. As his lips relocated hers, and his tip found her entrance, her legs enfolded him, and their lovemaking began in perfect rhythm with one another.

To John it felt as though their spirits entangling with each other, becoming one.

# The Real Fun Begins

In the later evening, John awoke with Gala in his arms. She appeared so serene while asleep, and John hoped she would remain that way until the sunset, as legends predicted, if only so he could watch his beautiful creature for longer without interruption.

As she stirred, a smile spread her lips, and she reached up to kiss him. "How are you feeling after last night, sweetie?"

Unsure of the question's intent John answered, "I feel great. Last night was unexplainable."

Gala sat up, her brow wrinkling as she twisted to face him.

"What is it?" John asked as her gaze dipped lower.

Her eyes met his, but the uncertainty remained within her. "You seem to have gotten bigger overnight. Your muscles..."

"No." He shook his head. "There is no way such a difference could show overnight."

She pulled him close and murmured something in a language he didn't understand, that sounded like Russian, before saying, "Honey, we have no idea what you are capable of. There is no documentation about your species, at all."

John's frown outmatched Gala's. Species? Did that make him not human, then? John didn't know what he thought about the idea of that.

Gala got out of bed and, switching on a music player, began bouncing around the room stretching, as though she did the exact same routine every morning. Yoga, it looked like. He could think of worse sights to wake up to.

When they headed outside, the others were already waiting. "Adela has had to go on pressing business, Bernandas told Gala when she inquired why the ancient wasn't among them. "She will be back within a day or two."

"And why did she not inform me of this herself?"

His smirk was wide as he answered, "We thought you two were too busy to be interrupted. Little girl, I can hear for miles."

Gala blushed, but Bernandas swept her concerns aside.

"Listen, Gala, we need to push him hard today. I am not willing to waste time. We do not know how long we have until the ancients catch wind of him."

The fear in the voice of a being such as Bernandas pushed worry through Gala. "Bernandas, are you afraid of ancients?"

He ran a hand over his face, his overcome paling. "I am one of the most powerful wolves alive, and I cannot handle Adela, let alone an ancient. You have no idea how fast and strong they are, not what other mind-twisting abilities they have."

"So, how is John expected to fare?"

Bernandas rolled his shoulders. "Only God knows the answer to that. But Adela believes, if we train him, he will be unstoppable. I am hoping she is not clinging to what seems like a lost cause." He drew in a deep breath. "She took it hard when her Guardian died. He was handling his own battle with an ancient, until he yielded because another ancient captured Adela. She was a millennium younger and weaker at that time." When Gala's lips parted with her gasp, he grasped her shoulder and drew her aside. "I trust Adela's judgment and I know she loves you as her own."

Although warming to her heart, the words could not set her nerves at ease.

John paused in his stretches as Vixen's arrived.

She stepped into the clearing with her hair tied back, though the downturn of her lips warned of her mood. Before he could question her, her lips twisted and she glared at him. "Sleeping with a corpse is just sick."

John's hands fisted at his sides. "No worse than sleeping with a dog."

"Whatever!" She flicked her ponytail aside. "My pack leader says you are the only hope to save us from slavery." She grabbed John's shoulder and twisted him side-to-side whilst looking him up and down. "This can't be."

He shrugged her off. "What are you talking about?"

"You have gained mass since last night."

John smiled. "Yeah, sure, I hulked up overnight.

"I was thinking the same thing this morning," Gala said.

The two girls looked at each other and then to him. "So, it's not just me? He has bulked up overnight?" Vixen asked Gala.

"By, like, three kilos, or so, I estimated."

Vixen cracked her neck, a sly smile on her lips when she looked to Gala again. "What do you say, should I push him good, today?"

Gala barely considered the question before nodding. "Just don't transform. Let's see if he can keep up with you in your human form at your best, first."

John stared at the exchange. The duo seemed just a little too eager to put him in harm's way, in his opinion.

"Let's do it, man cub." Vixen slapped him on his ass.

"Today, is not like yesterday," Bernandas rumbled, his huge voice vibrating the ground under their feet and demanding attention. "There will be targets you must hit as you go through and traps coming at you. We are now going to start our version of hell week, boy!"

Spoken like a true drill sergeant with a Lithuanian accent, John thought. He definitely preferred Gala's accent to the others. He wondered if she even had the same roots.

She cocked her head toward him. "Ukraine, I am from Ukraine."

Everyone glanced around at each other, as John and Gala locked eyes, probably realizing, as he had, that she had just read his mind.

"Guess keeping secrets is out of the question, then," he said with a smile.

Her next words were Russian, unintelligible to John, and she motioned for him to go.

Bernandas and Vixen laughed, along with the other wolves.

"Let's start before your girlfriend kills you," Vixen said, crossing to him.

"Okay, everyone get to your marks," Bernandas ordered.

As soon as Bernandas gave the sign, John followed Vixen through the course at an even faster pace than the day before. Growls rolled from her as she ran. Each time he met her side, John could see that her eyes had changed to an animalistic yellow, telling him she must have been channeling whatever supernatural strengths she had inside her.

A log came swinging down, and she jumped up onto it without missing a beat, running across its surface and jumping off the other end.

John chose to slide under it and, rolling back onto his feet, recaptured his pace with no falter to his flow.

She demonstrated on the first target that he should hit it while on the run, and John nailed the next three but fell short in the fourth. From the right came another log, swinging from ropes, and they both leaped up and onto it, each executing a perfect dismount from the trap.

"Not bad!" Vixen yelled over her shoulder.

John kept running but glanced about at a sudden sense that his life was about to be in real danger.

A loud crack sounded out, and he caught sight of a large object behind within his peripheral vision. Grabbing Vixen up, he used his body to shield her. As the impact hit him, his eyes swirled to yellow before settling on green, and releasing a horrific growl, he spun and slashed down his forearm, splicing the offending log into two.

Crumpling to the ground, Vixen covered her head with her hands. As she lowered them, she brushed her hair aside and peered up at him. "What was that? How did you do that?"

John replied, "I just reacted."

He reached out to help her get up, and as she took his hand, scorn no longer shone from her eyes. Instead, she seemed impressed and slightly afraid.

After dusting themselves off, they started back on the path, running and dodging traps, jumping over boulders, and making far better time than before.

Once they'd hit the bottom of the course and rejoined the others, Vixen changed into her wolf form and motioned for Gala to follow her, ignoring the quizzical glances from the guys.

Away from everyone else, Vixen changed back and asked, "What is he?"

"What do you mean?"

"His eyes changed," Vixen said, her arms on her hips. "Into something like a wolf at first, but then they changed again, green, and he looked like some kind of monster — he even shielded us from a log trap that I'd missed. And then, after the log hit him, his eyes went greener, and he spun around and smashed the log with his forearm."

Gala backed up and crouched down, her head shaking slightly as her thoughts swirled. She had not expected him to start going through such drastic changes. Not like that. "Listen, Vixen," she said, looking up at the other female. "We have no idea what he can do. Adela told me each one that has been born had different attributes and powers, but from what you just described, it sounds as though, even when he is changing, he has full control."

Vixen shook her head and chewed on a fingernail. "I fucked up. He could have gotten killed."

"But he didn't. However, we must be careful not to take too many risks with him before knowing his abilities for sure."

When the two girls got back to the camp, the male wolves were already training with John. It was clear he had been training from a young age, as he fared better against the others than Gala would have expected, even with no signs of using any powers.

Bernandas beckoned Gala. "Look at your boy, not using any ability and doing well. I think I am going to tell the boys to start turning up the heat on him." Bernandas howled for his pack's attention. "Begin using your wolf strengths against him. Let's step this up."

The moment they did, however, John's standing began to waiver.

Bernandas turned to Gala. "Let's see how connected he is to you." He winked at her and, grabbed her arm, squeezed hard.

"Ouch, you're hurting me," Gala complained.

Bernandas merely tightened his hold. "Trust me, youngster, and watch."

John climbed from a spot he'd been knocked to and turned to Gala, but she waved for him to get back into the fight.

In the next breath, his eyes glowed an intense green. His whole body seemed to be surging with energy, his hands straining with electricity and heat. It even felt as if his bones were burning.

Throwing himself back into the fray, he began tossing the wolves like rag dolls.

One of them growled and howled and started to transform into his werewolf form.

John merely smiled. "Alright, you ugly bastard, let's dance."

The werewolf and John began slamming each other into the surrounding trees and beating on each other. John hit Ivan with a brazen right hook, and even in his werewolf form, it knocked him off his feet, sending flying backward until he slammed down and slid across the ground.

Ivan got up and released a growl followed by a haunting howl. He charged towards John, but Bernandas grabbed from behind and thrown clear back into the woods.

When Ivan charged back out of the woods Bernandas roared. "Enough! Hit the showers!"

With a disgruntled growl, Ivan headed back towards camp.

"Better to wait, boy," Bernandas said to John. "We are not yet sure what you can handle without dying." He cracked his knuckles. "Gala, take your monster back with you, and get him cleaned up and fed."

Although sick of people talking ordering her about, she reached her hand out for John and led the way.

While John took his shower, Gala cooked for him as she fed on a bags of synthetic blood — her usual diet. Human blood came with too many regrets that taunted her conscience, but then, she had been vegetarian when human, so maybe it could be considered natural for the life-choice to continue into her new life as a vampire.

As he toweled off, John caught sight of himself in the mirror and paused. He barely recognized his own body. He was still himself, his frame still the same, but muscle and mass had replaced all of the softness. "How?" he asked his reflection, "How, in just a few days?"

"John, how long have you been a vegetarian?" Gala called to him.

He tore his attention from himself. "Strangely enough, right after I took too many pills and started to have visions of you. Why?"

"Because you eat just the way I used to as a human."

His eyebrows rose. "Really?"

A moment of quiet followed before she answered, "I guess our bond does go deep, doesn't it?"

John stared at her as he came out of the bathroom and nodded. "So, I guess being a vampire messed up that for you."

She smiled and tossed him a bag of her blood. "I only eat lab-made not human. I would, if needed, but only from a bag, never from a human. I have a problem with killing them."

He walked over to his vampire princess and embraced her, reveling in the peace that washed over him the moment he was there.

Closing his eyes, he thanked God for bringing her into his life.

# Adela's Dilemma

Large, and quite typical for a queen in a castle, Adela's room had stone walls, a seemingly miles-high ceiling, a large fireplace, old wooden floors shrouded in rustic rugs, and, of course, a huge canapé bed brimming with pillows of all sizes.

The chairs Adela and Vitaliy sat in, facing one another before the fireplace to discuss the dilemmas pressing down on their coven, had an accompanying round coffee table made of mahogany, with beautiful inlays of birds set around its sides.

Vitaliy had just been out on a diplomatic trip to judge the stability of their relations with all of the other covens, and Vitaliy had more than just a few concerns for them on his return — so they took care to only speak in the older languages, to keep the youngsters from overhearing.

Vitaliy had been with Adela since before the ancient's Guardian was killed; as a result, Adela trusted him more than anything on Earth.

To anyone observing, it would be immediately clear that they both came from an older, higher-class society.

Vitaliy sipped on his tea. "I believe someone from within our coven is feeding Intel to Darvon's coven," he explained when Adela pressed him for news on what troubled him so. "They knew too much about the workings of our house." Vitaliy not only had a gift of extreme speed but also bionic-like hearing, which had given him an unusual advantage of eavesdropping during his travels. "We must find the loose end and deal with it," he said, lowering his cup.

That was not the only problem he had discovered, though. Because they were also having trouble with one of the younger covens in America, who had actually tossed around the idea of killing the group with one of the human security teams. They even planned to tell the public that zombies were responsible — mutants created from some unknown street drug.

Adela gripped her cup between her hands as the alarm of the news flashed through her. As much as she would rather not believe it, she had been through the millenniums with her friend and trusted him implicitly. Leaning forward, she placed her hand upon his. "We will deal with this, just as we have always dealt with every concern before it."

He shook his head. "The power shift was too great. And what's to say that, if they started this with one coven, they could do it with the rest of the covens whenever they deem a coven has stepped out of line." He lowered his cup to the table beside them. "Soon, everyday people will have the technology to allow them to recognize a vampire if they wanted to."

"Vitaliy, the ancients would never allow the public to ever have that sort of technology because it would flush them out as well." Withdrawing her hand from his, straightened in her chair with a smile. "There is one chance left. And we finally have an ace of our own."

Vitaliy pulled his chair closer to Adela's. "We are not in the days of, or before, Christ." He spoke in a low voice, in the old vampire language. "My dear friend of the ages, I would die for you, and you for me, but you need to realize that we haven't much time left."

Closing the final gap between them, Adela lifted her eloquent crushed velvet dress up from where it draped underfoot, causing Vitaliy to smirk at the reminder of when he had been a small child in preschool trying to scoot ahead. Once comfortable, she whispered, "We have the weapon that will end it all."

He shook his head, unconvinced. "I know losing your loved one was hard on you. I know that you believe if he had more time he would have been unstoppable. How do you know that this John will be able to do what is needed before they find him?"

Unusually for her character, tears welled in Adela's eyes. "In my heart, I always knew that Gala was special. Now we know it is so. I always thought it was her unusual personality that made me love her so much like a daughter to me, but I believe it is a deeper binding, of us both being blessed with having Guardians. I cannot allow her to feel the pain I felt when I saw his heart being ripped from his chest." A tear spilled over the rim of her eye, something that no one other than Vitaliy ever saw.

He smiled. "She has become your daughter, hasn't she?"

"Yes, she has and is very..."

They both looked at each other at the sound of a crack of dust under a shoe — something younger vampires would have missed, but to a vampire over a thousand years, the sound arrived like a clacker from the dark and supposedly empty hallway.

In a flash, Adela blew through the doorway, sending splinters and chunks of wood exploding outward with enough force for them to ricochet back and bounce from wall to wall.

The young vampire there attempted to shield himself from the debris launching in his direction as if a bomb had exploded behind the door.

Adela pinned him against the wall with a hand clasped firmly around his throat. The capillaries and blood vessels in his eyes began to instantly swell and pop in his eyes as his veins protruded almost completely out of his skin from the pressure she exerted. Arm fully extended, she lifted until his feet dangled a few inches from the ground.

Trembling, his legs flailed as his hands tapped helplessly against Adela's arms. He shook his head, back and forth, his lips mouthing, "No, please, no."

Unmoved by his plea, Adela slammed him back against the wall, so hard that brick and mortar began to tumble down around his head, his shoulders, and rolled around his body as though marking his spot. Cracks formed in the stone wall, marking the outline of his body as it was rammed slowly through the massive stone wall.

Another bounce off the wall resulted in more chunks, hunks, and nuggets of stone and mortar. They, too, bounced off his shoulders, and as they rebounded off the old wooden floor, cracks there began to deepen.

His eyes bulged further and further out of his skull.

In a demonic voice straight out of the deepest levels of hell Adela screamed, "What are you doing listening outside my room! Who are you working for?" She loosened her grip just enough for him to utter a few words.

"No one, my queen, please, have mercy on me."

His fear and shameless crying infuriated Adela even more. She thrust him into the wall again, the blow creating a big enough crater to hold him in place.

She knew he was a spy. "Which coven are you working for!" she demanded from him.

"I would tell her, son," uttered Vitaliy as he leaned against the doorframe that was in shambles, one shoulder wedged up against it as he peered at Adela in wonder. "It seems my lady is becoming an ancient. Drakus, I have never trusted you much, and think it is time to come clean," he said, rolling his thumb along his fingertip.

Fear overcame Drakus's eyes, the capillaries giving way to the stress as the veins on his face showed signs of being ready to rupture. He stood not chance against the vampire before him, a vampire on the cusp of gaining her ancient strength. His arms grew limp, his legs dangling helplessly below him.

"I warned you, Drakus, never to betray me!" Her voice grew even more demonic as it harmonized with itself as if four were speaking instead of one. "Did you truly believe that I had not already caught onto you betraying our coven?"

Bits and pieces of stone continued to loosen and rain down around Drakus, coating his black suit in a dirty gray dust. His head began to shake. The crunch of his spine under the power of Adela's hand thundered out.

She glared directly into his eyes, and in the next breath came the pop of his spine snapping from beneath the pressure.

Dropping him to the ground, Adela backed up a half step and, with all her force, brought her knee up through the slit of her long dress and slammed into his skull.

Drakus's head flew down the hallway, leaving his body to lay cold and alone on the floor.

Adela's breaths panted from her as she fought for composure.

"My lady, are you alright," asked Vitaliy, approaching her.

She put out her hand to stop him from saying more. "Looks like I have some changes going on." She looked up at Vitaliy. "I think we need to keep this a secret from the others. If the elder ancients hear that I am now showing signs, they will kill us all, and I am still centuries away from being as strong as one of them."

Vitaliy clasped a hand over his mouth. "Of course, ma'am. I shall tell the others that we have caught a spy and that this section of the castle is off limits to all."

She signaled with a wave of her hand for him to go on his way. As soon as he was out of earshot, Adela tumbled to the ground. She could scarcely believe what had just happened. Not just the sudden appearance of power, but how she had no control over herself. She did not like it at all.

A realization dawned on her — that as soon as John was able, she would need to start training with him for him to understand the strength of a young ancient. That way, he would be better prepared for the original ancients when they came. Because Adela was still convinced that he stood a better chance than she.

After gathering the coven into the main hall, Vitaliy stood before them and took a deep breath to prepare for explaining the treachery that had just occurred.

"My coven," he began, "we have all been betrayed by the rat, sneak, and not lastly the snake, Drakus. Our fair lady and faithful leader caught him in an act of espionage this early evening." He paused for a moment to look out upon the flock and gauge the temperature of the crowd. "My brethren and sisters, we have been betrayed, deceived, and forsaken by one, if not more, in our coven. I fool you not when I tell you how dangerous this could be for our family here. If one of the other covens have placed a spy within our community, that means we must be some sort of threat to another coven, which means we are already in a war of which we had no prior notice." Vitaliy clenched his fists together at his side and cracked his neck with a stretch to the side. "I know all of you are too young to know what a war between covens is like. In these wars, an entire coven is always wiped out. If anyone is left, it is often those used for sexual trophy pieces, and even they do not get to live much longer than the novelty they provide to their captor."

Murmurs of disbelief and fear rumbled through the gathered coven members — mostly fear, though as Vitaliy was not a man to speak untruths, which meant they heeded his words with care.

As the coven continued with their whispered conversations, Vitaliy paced the altar upon which the two thrones, trying to think of a way to weed out any other snakes among them. He picked up the great sword that hung from the wall behind the thrones from its elegant iron-crafted supports.

With the sword in his one hand, he once more faced the coven, summoning power into his usual aristocratic voice as he roared, "Any other rats amongst us will suffer a worse fate than the last if you do not step up now! Now, you will be sent to your employer with a message from me! This is a one-time only offer and will stand for only the next few moments!" He glanced around for hints of that any one of them appeared more shaken than the rest, but none seemed out of place or of a guilty conscience. He tapped the blade of the sword against his left palm before continuing, "We will be under lockdown for the unknown near future. No one, absolutely no one, leaves this castle, or communicates with the outside world until I have had time to interview every last one of you." He deepened his voice once more as he finished with, "Anyone caught trying to break this lock down will have a slow, seemingly never ending death! Do you understand me?"

The entire room shook in fear. Everyone understood that those words were not to be taken lightly.

Vitaliy calmly placed the sword back upon its resting place and, on his way toward the double chamber door, added, "If anyone suspects anything, come and see me."

Adela sat on the bottom edge of her bed with one of her many diaries upon her lap, reading through notes that her beloved had written her all those years ago.

She had huge regrets of not being more careful with protecting him before he had grown stronger. She feared for her coven — if a spy was amongst them, one of the other covens already had her young family in their crosshairs. It frightened her to think that her newfound strengths may not be enough to stop one of the older ancients but still enough to cause them to eradicate her entire coven, and that was without counting the fact that they had a new Guardian.

John. Their last chance of freeing themselves from the ancients. They would not suffer a second Guardian from her coven gladly.

Her heart was heavier than it had ever been, with worried for her dear Gala and how she would feel if she lost her Guardian the same way as Adela had.

Adela knew not what to do because her whole coven was in grave danger.

# Unsuspected

Waking that evening did not come easily to John. Despite the ringing of his alarm, he just wanted to lay with the woman he was falling in love with. Slapping the alarm, he rolled up beneath the covers and placed his head on her perfectly sculpted stomach.

As the piercing in her navel tickled his cheek, he glanced down at all that seemed made in heaven and wrapped his arm around her. "I don't want to," he said.

She laughed a sweet loving laugh and pulled him up over her. "Come, I will help you to wake." She drew him face to face.

As John peered into her eyes, he knew he would never find another he loved as much as her. At that moment he could only find solace in her.

They kissed, and she opened herself to him in more ways than one. A magical experience to both her and to him. In the same heartbeat, though, it was a nightmare to Gala — because opening herself up to loving someone had forever been a huge fear of hers. While those fears vanished during their lovemaking, she knew they would later bother her deeply.

Later that morning, a gentle rapping came upon the bedroom door, a gentle and somewhat feminine sound.

Although she had her suspicions about the caller's identity, Gala still answered the door.

As she expected, Vixen stood on the other side.

She took a strong stance and placed her hand on her hip. "It is not yet his time for training."

Vixen smiled. "Well, that is perfect, because we are not training today. I was asked to tell you to bring him to our main fire ring over the hill. We are celebrating tonight, and we want him to take place in the ceremony." She lifted her eyebrows at Gala. "Since he has been training with us, we want to make him one of the pack."

Gala stepped forward. "What do you mean?"

"We have the same suppressors and are enslaved by the same group as your coven since we are preparing him for battle against them. We want to celebrate with him before it is too late. You understand, right?"

Surprised by the outlook, Gala conceded and stood down slightly. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

"Bring some blood bags for yourself," Vixen said with a smile. "We do not keep that sort of thing on stock."

Gala and John headed through the woods towards the wolves' main fire ring, a place where all of their celebrations and ceremonies for the pack were held. Gala pointed out the carvings in the stones, as they passed each one. The records of the pack's legacy held an intricate design John couldn't help but be impressed by, as well as Gala's knowledge on the subject.

"Unlike the other covens, Adela did not try to kill off or enslave the pack," Gala explained, "but created a truce and friendship with their leader ages ago. At times, Adela would refer to the pack as the coven's brethren and extended family." She held a branch aside as they passed between a handful of trunks. "In some areas, the vampires hunt down any werewolf and dispatch death on sight."

The glowing of the huge fire in the distance soon revealed itself through the trees, as well as the sounds of celebration, from both wolves and human vocals.

As the two approached the party, they found most of the pack in human form, dancing a tribal-type dance around the fire, while a few in wolf form howled into the moonlit night in time with the music.

Rhythmic drumbeats added the background to the native stringed Slavic instruments that played a powerful, but joyful.

As John watched, the tightness pack of the pack became evident in the way everyone seemed to know what the others were going to do and reacted accordingly, never missing a beat or step.

Bernandas motioned for the two of them over to sit by him and patted the log next to him for them to take a place. Reaching over to his right, he grabbed two large glasses of wine and handed one to each of them. "My friends, and my pack," he called out, his voice full of cheer, "we are here to celebrate a new brother-in-arms today. He may not be wolf or vampire..." He sniffed the air and then at John. "Okay, okay, he smells a bit more like a wolf than a vamp." The whole pack erupted into laughter and Bernandas calmed them with a wave of his hand. "No, no, all joking aside, I am glad to welcome this man into our pack, as a part of the pack, as an alley to us and my dearest friend Adela. I trust her beliefs and choices more than any others. We have hidden in the shadows and lived in fear for long enough. I am hoping that this man can do what Adela believes." He raised his glass into the air, and the rest of the pack joined in with him, including Gala and John. "A toast to our newest family member and his life companion. May they both have a rich, long life together!"

In unison, the pack cried, "Hey! Hey!" and glugged down their glasses of wine.

With a slap on the back, Bernandas guided John away from the pack. "We need to talk, boy," he whispered, "Your girl, too."

After they'd beckoned Gala over to join them, the trio headed over to a clearing in the trees, where stumps doubled as chairs, and Bernandas took a seat. The monster of a man looked like an adult trying to sit in a kid's chair.

As Gala and John perched opposite him, Bernandas began, "What I am about to tell you is forbidden knowledge among the vampires, and not really spoken of too much amongst the wolf packs." The serious tone in his voice ran shivers into both of their souls. He sat quietly for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, then continued, "I do not know how to word this to you without scaring you to death, nor do I want you to misunderstand the danger that you two are both in."

John glanced at Gala and she at him, and as though understanding the gravity of what they were about to hear, they reached out for each other's hands.

"A Guardian has never lived long once the ancients catch wind of his existence," Bernandas continued. "The last Guardian known to any of us belonged to Adela, and she suffered his loss very badly. You see, a Guardian and his vampire do have a bond, but it is not as simple as you both may think — because it is the Guardian that belongs to the vampire and not the other way around."

Gala clenched down on John's hand, trying to draw his attention to her. The expression on her face that met him seemed to suggest: We could leave this place and everyone in it; just the two of us escaping to some far off place - before the resignation vanished to be replaced with a determination of - We will do this together.

"The information is not so clear about your race," Bernandas was saying as they once more gave him their attention, "because if the knowledge was spoken, the speaker would suffer the pain of death. This silenced the few that had the knowledge of this. You need to know that, as far as I know, no Guardian has ever fared well against an ancient, but it is rumored that, in due time, one will gain the power needed to destroy an ancient vampire." Bernandas reached out and put a hand on each of their knees, his expression emanating sincerity. "Adela and I are both convinced of this, due to how quickly the ancients react and dispense of a Guardian every time they have heard of one. This action shows that they have some reason to believe these legends to be true. There are other rumors of one Guardian, who killed three ancients before one of the three elder ancients ripped his spine from his body. The elder ancients are something the other vampires never discuss, and because it is also forbidden information, most laugh it off as a fairytale. Myself? I believe they might exist and stay hidden behind the ancients that we all know about."

Footsteps approached and Vixen appeared. "I am sorry, sir, but I bring news from the coven. It seems that Adela has caught a spy and want us to be on the alert."

Bernandas patted her on the thigh and winked. "I am sure we would be better at sniffing out an intruder amongst our ranks. So run along and tell the pack to keep their noses to the ground." As soon as Vixen was out of earshot, Bernandas turned back to Gala and John. "What Adela has failed to divulge in her story to you, is how they always savagely kill the Guardian. I am not telling a ghost story or over-exaggerating this to spook you. Rather, while understanding that playing it down is less likely to scare you away, I feel you need to be forewarned about the horrendous ways that the ancients always kill your kind." He placed his mammoth hand upon John's shoulder and gripped it firmly. "These words do not carry the weight that they need to, and I am unsure how to say them, because through the years I have seen so much death, rampage, and cruelty that I fear I, too, have become desensitized." He removed his hand from John's shoulder but the seriousness didn't leave his eyes. "They always seem to torture the Guardian as he is dying. Adela had to watch her Guardian's heart be slowly extracted out through the back of his ribcage. She was their captive when he gave himself over to them to save her. In her retelling, she said that he placed himself on his knees before her in protection, and Baldemar, always a cruel German bastard, reached through Alex's back and grasped his heart. And while staring Adela in the eyes to not only see, but enjoy, all the misery she was enduring, he slowly twisted, squeezed, and dug his nails into Alex's heart, pulling the organ at a snail's pace out through the hole he had made in Alex's back.

I was there, myself, chained to the wall, and so know the recounts to be true. I watched the torment in both Adela's and Alex's eyes. The raw, unbridled evil in Baldemar's eyes as his sick, dark soul relished every bitter second of despair that he inflicted on the couple."

John's hand tightened around Gala's.

"His eyes were consumed in lustful pleasure," Bernadas continued, "as he raised Alex's still beating heart, took a huge bite out of it and spat it out. He dropped the rest of it on the floor like an old dirty rag and then crushed it under his foot and dug his heel into it before walking away. Some say he left Adela alive due to his infatuation with her. But I and others believe it is to see her suffer and droop over and over again."

# Wolf up

After hearing the story the night before, John realized he was in for far more than he'd originally estimated. He swore to himself that he would not let his beloved Gala down. He had risen before her that morning, but she had been terrified by his decision to get an early start on his run. She had been warned by Adela not to leave him alone while still in his weaker state of being. But the sun was still up, meaning she was trapped inside.

John ran along the path shown to him by Vixen, trying to make better time than he had done in the past.

He almost stumbled as a strangeness overcame him, a sense of danger. He frowned as he righted his step and continued running. Was he in danger? Or was it merely Gala's feelings he'd picked up on? If so, what could have caught her such fright?

It was just at the beginning of dusk as John hit the midway point of the course for the second time that day, and he could swear he felt eyes burning down on him.

A log shot out ahead of him, creating an explosion of wood as it collided with stone, and John slid to a stop.

He spun around to see a fully turned werewolf standing behind him, with fangs bared, drool dripping from his unbelievably huge mouth, and a hellish growl coming with every breath it took.

John stepped backward, trying not to trip over anything. His heart pounded hard like it considered exploding from his chest. I thought the wolves were here to train me not kill me, he thought as he backed up. Could the one before him belong to an ancient?

Reaching down, John folded his fingers around a large branch, having instantly questioned his weapon of choice. "Come on, you ugly motherfucker!" he screamed on straightening.

The werewolf charged, and John sidestepped the stampede and smashed the branch off of its skull. But to John's despair, the branch shattered and seemed to have no effect at all on the creature from hell as it stood tall in front of him once more.

The behemoth of a beast panted, expelling not only rage in its expression, but seemed confused that John wasn't attacking.

Again, the beast came at John and grabbed him by the throat. As it slammed John to the ground, the earth rumbled and shook from the impact.

John's eyes turned to a yellowish color, the pupil altering to a shape resembling that of a werewolf, before becoming a bright, bright jade green that seemed to illuminate.

The beast shook its head, seeming unsure, and John took the distraction to his advantage. Rolling his left arm around the back of the wolf's elbow, he struck the wolf's wrist, and its fingers uncurled, freeing John from its grasp. As he grabbed its wrist with crushing power, he kicked himself up and onto his feet and grasped the back of the wolf's upper arm, sliding his hand down towards the elbow and forcing the wolf onto its stomach.

Standing over it, John controlled the beast with his hand at its elbow and the one at its wrist and allowed the animal to get to its feet enough for John to slam it down. As its face smashed into the earth, bones and tendons cracked and snapped, but the wolf fast recovered. Grunting and growling, despite the pain it should have been in, it stretched its free arm until, with an unprecedented amount of power, it hit the ground and launched itself and John into the air.

As soon as the wolf's feet were planted on the ground, it spun around and grabbed John with its free hand, slamming John back to the ground again. Seemingly unwilling to make the same mistake again, it squeezed a firm grip on John's chest and around his neck, an easy task with the massive size of its hands.

Dusk arrived, and with it, the freedom for Gala to leave without harm from the sun, and its unforgiving beams that would fry her to a crisp in a matter of moments. She immediately ran in the direction that her heart guided her, faster than ever before, driven by the overwhelming sense of John being in grave danger.

Flying around the corner of one path, she slammed to a halt at the sight before her.

The largest werewolf she had ever seen pinned John to the ground. As she ran towards him, something — or someone — grabbed her shoulders and slammed her backward down towards the ground.

She spun to her feet to see Vixen standing before her.

"Stop!" Vixen said. "He was out here alone, and Bernandas decided to use it to our advantage and put him through the paces. Shh, John needs to believe that this is real."

Vixen took Gala by the hand and led her to a place where they could watch without John's knowledge.

John clenched the monster's wrist with a quick twist of his hip, using his feet to jettison himself around and outside the animal, tightening and twisting his grip on the wrist as he came to his feet. A kick of his foot blasted the fanged beast straight in the face, sending the monster's head swaying rightward. As soon as its head started to float back, John smacked it again with his foot, then spin-kicked, and, slamming his elbow into the neck of the stunned werewolf, followed through with a smash of the ball his hand to the same spot, closing into a fist on.

After swaying for a heartbeat, the beast seemed to be melt into the ground.

John again kicked the beast in the head, driving down the heel of his foot and smashing the beast's head into the ground.

Before the dust and dirt flying from out from beneath him could settle, the monster blindsided him with a blast from behind, knocking him to the ground.

Both of them spun to their feet, a flurry of blows swinging left and right, almost too fast for the human eye to follow.

John both landed and took some very powerful blows while doing his best to stay away from the razor sharpness of the creature's drool-dipping teeth.

Gala watched on as John's position slipped from holding his own in the fight to losing more and more ground against big and ugly.

Terrified at seeing the man she loved getting hurt, she grabbed hold of Vixens hand. "I know what to do. You have to hurt me, really hurt me."

Vixen stared at Gala like she had gone mad. "Gala are you sure?"

Gala nodded.

Vixen seemed to still be questioning the decision until she remembered the connection between the two. Grabbing a fistful of hair as close to the scalp as she could, she twisted until Gala cried out.

Immediately, something happened within John. Somehow, he seemed to gain strength and speed and began to beat the wolf back more and more, as if driven by his lover's pain.

As Bernandas attempted to block the blows coming at him, he could see John's eyes start to illuminate even more than before, and John's life energy seemed to grow and pulse from him with every blow that was delivered.

"You see, we are connected," Gala said to Vixen. "If he feels I am in danger, he exerts more power in order to save me."

"I see, I see, and cannot believe my eyes. This has to be what Bernandas was describing as the love bond. I thought the old man was just telling stories."

"I am just worried because no one is sure how much he can really handle. Adela told me that, all at once, whatever was too much usually can kill them."

All of a sudden, John felt his body being transported in another direction yet had no control. At least, until he closed his eyes and allowed his instincts to take over. The hand on his forehead became more noticeable, and by some miracle he gained control, grabbing the unseen attacker by the throat and pinning him to the ground, and they slid several feet over the ground in a huge cloud of dust.

As it began to settle, Vitaliy peered back up from beneath him.

"It's good to see that the wolves have been training you well," Vitaliy said, using his hands to knock the dust away from his face. "Good lord, boy, are you going to let me up, or am I going to have to show you what I really can do?"

"First, you should explain to me how I did that."

With an explosion of laughter, Vitaliy said, "That is your inner Guardian taking over. I come to see more and more of this. Now you will have to start training with me." He chuckled further as John helped him to his feet. "It seems you have given Bernandas enough of a beating."

"That's Bernandas?" John turned.

Before him, a very sore-looking Bernandas was in the midst of changing back into a human.

John frowned, glancing from the wolf to the right, as the girls stepped out of the bush.

Gala wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. "Good job, sweetie." She bopped him on his nose with her hand playfully.

"No time for celebrating, son," said Bernandas, shaking his head. "What you just experienced from me is nothing compared to an ancestor."

"You're right", agreed Vitaliy, "and we do not have much time. I fear we have found a spy at the castle, and we have no idea who knows what outside of our castle."

"Worse yet, we do not know who it is that may or may not know about him," added Bernandas.

"I know, guys. I know we need to train harder," John said as he reached down for Gala's hand. With his free hand, he caressed her face and stared deep into her eyes. "I want to be sure I can protect her."

Gala knew John would do anything for her and would give his own life for hers. Parts of her felt nervous because he loved her so much. Other parts feared to be with one person for the rest of her life, but her heart told her that she loved him.

Sadly, she was unsure which feeling was stronger and was sometimes angry at him for this. She did not want to feel trapped into a relationship with anyone. Sometimes, she felt resentment and hatred and did not know why.

She did her best to conceal these feelings from everyone, though.

# Unforeseen Troubles

John could feel the tension growing between himself and Gala as they drew closer and closer to the where they were staying. It unnerved him, if only because he didn't know the reason, or if he had done anything to cause it.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked her.

Without glancing his way, she answered, "Whoever I am with should know what I want when I want it."

"It is not possible for two people to know what each other need all the time, even with our bond," he said, spreading his fingers.

"Anyone I am with needs to know what I am feeling, what I want, and what I need, or they are not the right one for me."

"That only happens in really bad romance novels. Even the good ones show some sort of conflict between people, which is what makes it interesting."

She did not utter another word, and as though to close the conversation, she blasted her music through her headphones.

The night was running out and John wanted to make amends with her somehow, but he was troubled by the way she all of a sudden blew him off — one-minute holding and hugging him, playful, the next cold and dismissive of him and anything between them.

What had even caused it?

While she slept, he went out and collected flowers, doing his best to pick out only the best; it was very important to him that she liked what he brought her — after all, she meant the world to him.

He hurried back and gave her the flowers. He hadn't expected her response of, "I am afraid that no one in this world will accept us."

Who cares if people accept us? John thought. He did his best to let her know that he loved her and it should not matter what others thought. Her reasoning matched that of a twelve-year-old child.

A gentle but creepy knock came from the old wooden door, followed by the tapping of hardened finger nails in an even and haunting rhythm.

John slowly and hesitantly opened the door, fearing what might behind. Only Vitaliy stood on the other side, however, and he had the look of utter and complete avidity on his face.

"Let's go, no time to be wasting," said Vitaliy, tapping his thumb off the tip of each finger, his usual posture when delivering a message that he felt didn't need to be said. "We need to train, train, and train some more. We have little time, I fear."

"I will grab my things and get Gala."

"Not today, leave the girl to her own things. I do not need anyone distracting you."

"But..."

"No buts," Vitaliy cut in before John could protest. "She stays, that is it! Now, move your ass!"

Reluctantly, John grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and headed towards the door, where he paused just long enough to say, "I'll be back as soon as we are done training."

Gala didn't even look at him as she said, "No need to hurry. I need time to myself, anyway."

With a sigh, John followed Vitaliy to the training area. Not a word was said the entire time as if Vitaliy already knew the training season would not go well due to Gala's callous behavior with him, and he had no idea how to deal with the situation.

Being treated as a Barbie by her parents at home, which Adela repeated after she turned Gala into a vampire made Gala an unusually spoiled and strange mixture of a character. Throughout the years she would only walk and speak with a man as her boyfriend for a very short time before finding any excuse to push him away.

It was clear she was afraid to give herself over to love. Vitaliy feared that could complicate things greatly.

Attempt after attempt, John failed at stopping Vitality's attacks. Hours had gone by and he gave not one successful counter to anything Vitaliy threw at him.

Vitaliy halted for a moment and pushed his face close to John's. "What the hell is your problem? If they kill you, they will kill her! Are you really going to let a woman's bad mood throw you off?"

John hung his head. "No, sir. I don't want to die or let them get their hands on her."

"Then, get your head together. Adela will deal with her later."

Vitaliy tried for another couple of hours, with very little progress and a sense of absolute loss for how to remedy the situation. Soon enough, the ancients would be on the hunt, and just as soon, they would catch wind of the young and green Guardian.

When John got home, Gala was there and, thankfully, offered a slightly warmer reception than before, though still, the ice queen shield had not left her. Still trying to make amends, even though he knew not what he'd done, he cooked up supper for the night and served some wine to Gala in the room he had lit with candles.

She seemed to smile a bit, even spoke more with him, yet things still did not go as well as he desired.

He sat on the bed and patted on the corner for her to come and take a seat by him. As she did so, he asked her," Why are you so hesitant about us? We have had a great time and no issues at all."

"I am not sure if I love you. If I do not love you, then it is a waste of time for me."

"Let's try and make this work. I believe that we have a great thing between us."

"I do not want to feel like I am trapped."

"Let's just try for a little bit, and then see how you feel."

Without another word, she leaned forward, her lips reaching for those of the man beside her. As though a switch had been hit, she became extremely passionate in a split-second, to the point of aggression with him.

He spun her around and lowered her to her back, staring down on her. The kisses they shared where hot and heavy as their hands ran over one another's body.

Her fingers grasped for and tugged at him, and he lifted her shirt. Kissing and licking her stomach in all the spots he knew she liked, he worked his way up to her chest, kissing and teasing her as she rolled her head back in the moment. Her breathing grew deeper the more her lover touched all the right places. She smiled when he began pulling her shirt up, and she assisted in removing it, exposing her neck and ears, which always drove her completely crazy whenever he kissed there.

Her eyes rolled back into her head as his hot breath landed upon her ear. She could feel her temperature rising, along with her pulse, as her breathing also deepened.

How could she doubt what she felt for him with moments like that?

His fingers wove through her hair as the two kissed and teased each other. He kissed and nibbled on her ear, a favorite spot of hers, as he rolled them both over, so that she was on top. He seemed to have realized early on that when he did this she became more aggressive and responded better to him.

Both hot and ready, she was kissing down his body, over his belly, trying to undo his jeans as quickly as she could. She wanted him right then and not a second later. As soon as she got his jeans undone, she quickly removed her own, but left her panties, for she knew how he liked the way they looked on her. As she slowly tugged them off, he kissed in all the places surrounding where they'd left but allowed nothing more than a slight brush over the petals of her flower.

Just as before, as he began getting a taste of what he craved so badly, she grabbed him by the head and pulled him up onto her. His frustration was clear on his face — he wanted nothing more than to savor in her taste and smell because even her scent was heavenly.

She smiled as she encouraged him higher and wrapped her legs around him, drawing him as close as she could. Gala knew exactly how to make him lose his mind.

The early night came quicker than John was ready for. Being up until the late afternoon, making love to Gala had worn him out and John felt drained, but he knew there was work to be done.

He struggled to scramble up his eggs and make his coffee while allowing her to sleep. He even tiptoed around to lessen any sounds that could disturb her.

Soon, came the expected knock at the door, but John was ready and had opened it right after the first rap of Vitaliy's hand. Placing his finger before his lips, he signaled for Vitaliy to be silent before motioning that he would follow right behind.

"I take it that you two have resolved all of the issues," Vitaliy whispered as they crept down the outside corridor.

"Seems that way," John replied, equally as quiet, "but I wish I knew what the issue was."

"A little word from the wise, that girl will never be honest with you or herself about her feelings. All you can do is hold on for dear life and give her space when she needs it. Trust me, she does not do well with people questioning her."

"So, you're a wise man, now?" John asked with a smile.

"After almost a millennium on this Earth, I think I have learned enough to call myself wise — or at least wiser than I was a few hundred years ago."

"So, you're an ancient?"

"No, I am no ancient. At least not so far as I haven't seen the signs yet. To be honest, I am hoping you have some luck in killing a few before my change. You see, sometimes they will kill us when we start to get our ancestral powers. The men at the top do not like any competition."

"So, you are telling me that they kill anyone showing signs of power, who could threaten them?"

"That would be not too far from how it is, not too far from the truth at all. Throughout all the time that Adela and I have seen, any threat, or future chance of a threat, is exterminated without prejudice. The wolves' numbers are kept thin, Guardians are wiped out as soon as they are found, and any vampire that starts to show ancient powers is usually found guilty of some terrible crime against the covens and killed."

Vitaliy paused for a moment, listening closely to their surroundings before continuing, "You can never be too sure or too careful. Speaking of these things can and will cause you to lose your head. Well, I guess, training a new Guardian in a conspiracy to take down my ancients would warrant death in their eyes."

"So, no one has ever been as strong as them?"

"Not to my knowledge. There are rumors, of a time when a Guardian once killed a few of the ancients, and that is why they fear your race so much. Adela's Guardian was very young, untrained, yet still held his own for a while — well, that was, until they used her as leverage."

John frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Her life or his was the option he had. And a Guardian cares more about the vampire it belongs to than it does for itself. He made them promise not to touch Adela. I believe the only reason they kept their word was to see her suffer his loss because it was clear he was also the love of her lifetime."

Hours passed, and John had made an enormous amount of progress but was still falling prey to most of the attacks thrown at him. His strengths and weakness became clearer to Vitaliy, the longer he watched his student.

"Youngster, your attributes are more strength than speed," Vitaliy told John. "But some of the ancients have both, and we need to prepare you for this."

"How do I deal with both?"

"I need to teach you how to anticipate the moves before they are made. Some monks can envision the whole fight before it happens, and I need to teach you to, somewhat, do the same."

"So, the ancients move as fast as you, and are stronger?" John asked with concern in his voice.

"No! They are stronger and faster than me. You have to understand that I could be as fast as some of the ancients, but do not have their strengths. Adela will need to teach you that, my friend."

"Wait, how is Adela going to teach me how to deal with an ancient when you cannot?"

Vitality's breath hit John's ear as he whispered, "It turns out our lady has started to become an ancient, and not even your little girl can know."

"Are you sure?"

"With the display of power, she demonstrated, a few days ago, on a spy we found?" He nodded. "There is no doubt."

The training between Vitaliy and John went on for a few weeks. Each day he made progress by leaps and bounds. It mattered not, how fast or strong Vitaliy attacked him, John found himself able to counter all the moves handed to him more and more. They might be fighting with staffs, hand on hand, or even when Vitaliy blindsided him with an attack, often while John took a stroll with Gala, just to make sure John remained on guard at all times. The battles also became more and more aggressive, as Vitaliy became sure he wouldn't kill John. On top of those, Vitaliy devoted hours to teaching John how to meditate, to help him focus on understanding what would happen before it did so.

# Adela's Visit

The weather had cooled off, with sure signs that Autumn was around the corner, if not already knocking on the door. The wind gusted outside, blowing the few leaves that had turned and spinning them round and round.

A gentle rap on the door knocker bounced it off the old oak door on which it was mounted. As the door swung open, a woman with an older style hooded outfit was revealed, doubtlessly beautifully shaped judging by the way the outfit molded itself around her petite body.

The woman had long, well-cared-for nails and fingers covered in old Russian gold - more red in tone than the usual gold color. Pulling back her hood revealed her astoundingly beautiful and her long black hair parted as she lifted her face, until it framed who appeared to be an even younger and more alluring Adela. Her features showed the smooth complexion of a seventeen-year-old rather than the twenties she had been earlier, and she had more of a glowing energy radiating from her.

"My lady," Bernandas exclaimed, his raised eyebrows and frown exposing his surprise. "Forgive me, and welcome to my humble abode."

She walked farther into his place and found Vitaliy already there, standing next to the table. He bowed to her, but as he straightened, shock was clearly written upon his face. Both he and Bernandas stared agape.

The expression on her face was playfully wicked as she batted eyelashes over bright, dark blue eyes. "A few blessings have come with becoming an ancient."

Vitaliy took a step towards the lady that he had served for so many years, his hands out waiting for her to grasp onto his. "My lady," he said with both glee and shock in his voice, "how have you changed?" Even her body had taken on a firmer tighter shape. How could one not be mesmerized by her pure beauty? "I almost did not recognize you, my queen."

"You flatter me, my old friend, but my looks are not the only thing that has changed, you know."

Eyebrow raised, he asked, "What are the other marvels, of which you speak?"

Releasing her hands from his, she walked around and over to her other loyal friend, Bernandas. Patting his chest on the way past, she came to stand in front of the enormous old stone fireplace and ran her hand along the old wooden mantle. A mix of wooden statues hand-carved by Bernandas himself stood upon it, some of the wolves howling upward, some of the owls, and some of other animals in the woods; they each showed his skill of a true master of carving.

"Such beautiful work, my dear friend," she said, as she played with and studied some of them. "I have always loved the presents that you have carved out for me throughout the years. I know you do not come into our home, and I would like that to change. We are approaching a new era, and I want us to lead others into it by example."

"Thank you, Adela." He bowed slightly to her, somewhat out of embarrassment because he never carried his own work in high acclaim, and their friendship meant the world to him. "But you are being too kind about my work. I believe our friendship may have blinded you to their imperfections."

Adela bounced the palm of her hand on the mantel twice before spinning around and shaking her finger at Bernandas. "My dear friend, you have always been far too modest about your talents, and maybe that is why your work is so good. I have noticed, throughout the years I have lived, that one who brags or boasts about the talent of their artistry of any type is usually a far cry from one who was insecure about their work."

Bernandas blushed, though he tried to hide it. "Well, that is up for a great deal of debate. And, though I agree with you about the braggarts, we have much more important matters to discuss."

"Yes, my lady, much to speak of," Vitaliy chimed in.

"Oh, drats, you two cannot take any time to reflect and appreciate what and who surrounds you."

Both men exchanged a quizzical glance at Adela's unusual behavior. It made them nervous because as a true leader, they needed her in form if they didn't want everything to fall apart in the blink of an eye.

"Relax, boys," Adela said. "We are about to change all that we know in the world, and I think a little reflecting would be in order. You have to understand that some of us might not live past these events, so we should embrace each other in these times before us. Besides my more youthful appearance and energy, I have been blessed with more attributes, and my older attributes are stronger and better. I will reveal them to you in due time, my trusted friends."

Another glance passed between the men before Bernandas turned back to Adela. "There are peculiarities with this Guardian that you should be aware of."

"Of what sort of peculiarities do you speak?"

Vitaliy jumped in, "Where do we start, Bernandas?"

"I think what I witnessed would be a good place," Bernandas replied.

Vitaliy motioned for him to go ahead and give Adela his take on what he witnessed while training. Not knowing how to say what he needed to, and having his nerves racked with fear that Adela might think he had gone absolutely mad, he fidgeted with his hands for a few moments before bracing himself. "Adela, I know this is going to seem utterly insane, but I think the boy might have a bit of werewolf in him."

"That is impossible!" she exclaimed, "Guardians are just Guardians and can be nothing else. But please," she added, waving him forth, "elaborate with why you feel this way."

Bernandas looked sheepish, almost out of character he replied, "To start with, there was a day I blindsided him. I attacked him as a werewolf without him knowing who I was, did my best to make him think it was for real, and his eyes turned to a shade like that of a werewolf before changing into what is his Guardian's eyes. Maybe you don't know, his glow a bright green?"

He seemed unsure as he watched for Adela's reaction, like a lost puppy dog afraid of upsetting its master. Taking a sip of her tea, Adela motioned for him to continue. Her beautiful blue eyes, always able to cut through any dark room or hallway, held only seriousness as they engaged with him.

"Well...," Bernandas restarted, "there is also how my pack reacts to him. They do not treat him as a non-wolf. To be honest, the females are swooned by him, especially when they are in heat, and the males seem to have the I need to prove I am more alpha than his attitude towards him, but all show signs of being timid. Even against me. He is formable."

Adela sat in the large old-fashioned armchair, clearly created for curling up in on long nights, and tapped her teacup with her nails. From the repetition of her drummed pattern, and the faraway sheen to her eyes, her contemplation of Bernandas's words was evident.

After a few moments, she cocked her head and asked, "Has anyone ever heard of such a thing happening before?"

"No, my dear lady, but we do not really know much about them at all," said Vitaliy.

"Adela, most of those who knew anything about Guardians have been killed to silence any information from spreading to others," Bernandas said.

Sitting for what felt like a lifetime to those waiting, Adela returned to tapping on her cup as she tried to formulate a logical conclusion from what she had been told. Several questions ran through her mind: Could this be an actual factor? Could he be a werewolf? Could it be a hidden attribute, maybe a failsafe for him to save himself? If this is possible, could there have been other Guardians that could have had vampire traits?

The biggest problem was that no one really knew anything about the creature at all. No one knew what it could do once it matured and realized its abilities.

"What if this was a failsafe?" she finally asked Bernandas and Vitaliy. Sitting up in the chair, she carefully placed her cup on the saucer waiting upon the tiny table between the two chairs. "What if they are a sub-species of the werewolves? I joke you not," she said at the incredulity in the two males' eyes. "Have the wolves not been long protectors of the vampires? Even through the cruelties they love to inflict, wolves seem to have an instinct to protect a master. Is this not also true for the Guardian?"

"Well, to be honest," Vitaliy started, leaning against a bookcase beside the fireplace, "we know next to nothing of them. Anyone that knew one, except for yourself, has been eliminated just as quickly as the Guardian."

"This is true." She nodded her head and tapped her fingers from her left hand before her face, upon those of her right. "They have always been so careful to get rid of all evidence. If it was not for them leaving me alive, none of us would know of this."

"Yes, ma'am," Bernandas said. "Why did they get so sloppy this time? They let all three of us live, even though we all knew of your Guardian."

"What is the news on his progress?" She asked.

Vitaliy cleared his throat. "Well, when Gala is not crushing his heart, he is making great progress. It has been some time since the last time, but I fear you need to have a heart to heart with her. She does live in some sort of fantasy world."

"Yes, she was treated as a doll during her human years," Adela admitted. "I believe she was the dictator of her house, and the whole family was afraid to say anything to her." Pondering for a moment, she continued with, "I have allowed her to carry on with this under our roof, as well, I am afraid to say. Rest assured I will have a persuading talk with her. How is he handling your speed?"

"I have been working on meditation with him," Vitaliy said, pushing away from the wall and stepping from the shadow so she could see him clearly. "Because he is not blessed with speed like yours was, but he is blessed with what seems to be an almost limitless strength. With the meditation, he has been doing better and better at countering my moves." He paused for a moment and continued, "It is possible that he is gaining speed and it is not the meditation to thank, but I am doing my best so he can handle the ancients' speed as well as their power. I think even the oldest of the ancients would be surprised by his strength."

"My thoughts as well," Bernandas agreed. "The boy puts a hurting on me even when I dish out everything I have. The younger wolves refuse to train with him anymore unless it is in group attacks, and even then they are nervous."

Adela motioned them to join her in Bernandas's eating area. She always loved the huge round table that he built. "Bernandas, could you fetch us some more tea? And maybe you have some of the sweets I like? I need some time to gather my thoughts and want you both to keep telling me what you have seen in his training."

While Bernandas put the kettle on the fire, Vitaliy started telling Adela what he had witnessed, and what he believed needed to be the next steps. Bernandas joined them a moment later and discussed with Vitaliy his views on what needed to be done. The two men both agreed and disagreed.

Adela sat silently, listening throughout. Once they had both said their lot, Adela resumed tapping on her teacup, ceasing the rhythm only long enough to take sips of her favorite tea that only Bernandas could make it so well. After a long time had passed with both men patiently awaiting her response, she got up from the table.

"Ok, if you two are done looking at my fanny," she mentioned, spotting them eyeing up her derriere, "I think it is time the boy trains with me. Besides my newfound ability of mind reading, I could also use some exploring the rest of my new abilities. I do not plan on leaving this war just to him. I lead by example. In the evening, I will begin his training."

Both men appeared scared at the idea that they would have to control their thoughts about her and other women around her, the look of dismay they shared almost comical.

"Bernandas, I am going to my usual place of stay, and I bid you both a good night." She headed up the half flight of steps but paused. "And, boys, don't worry. I know men are men and you will think what you think, so do not be nervous about my newfound ability. Vitaliy," she said, waiting for a response.

"Yes, my lady."

"I need you to keep a careful eye on me and the boy. I need both of you to scan the area and make sure we have no spying eyes because John and I are going to make a lot of noise."

Both men said, "Yes, my lady," in unison.

# A New Way of Training

It was early evening, the sun had just settled behind the hills, and there was an unfamiliar knocking at John and Gala's door. They opened it to find Bernandas, who told John to hurry up and get to the training ground.

John was scrambled to gather his things.

"Bernandas, I am coming along today," Gala stated boldly as she assisted John.

"I think not, not today. There is something going on, and I will come back for you a little later."

"What do you mean, I cannot?" she asked, angry at being told no.

He pointed a discreet finger toward John. "We have a huge, gigantic problem that I need your help with."

She glanced at John's back, then back to Bernandas, who nodded. It had to be something serious by the nervous energy Bernandas portrayed.

"Gala, you need to get ready for patrolling," he said with a pointed look.

She raised an eyebrow as if to ask, What are you talking about?

He motioned for her to get ready and told John to hurry up.

John followed him out the door and soon matched up with Bernandas's speed; it was clear today was different and things were more serious.

A young and extremely attractive girl waited in the training area. "I am sorry, are you Adela's relative, by any chance?" he asked.

Adela laughed. "I am Adela." She smiled and glanced down and back up, biting one of her knuckles slightly. "It seems you are not the only one learning how to deal with new powers. The problem is I need to help you realize yours while I am realizing my own."

"I hope you do not mind, Adela," Bernandas interrupted, "but I am taking Gala today." At Adela's puzzlement, Bernandas continued, "I am having her and Vitaliy help my pack patrol the area. I figured she would be more likely to sneak up on an unwanted guest since they cannot smell her as easy as one of mine."

"Great idea. Please keep a wide perimeter, because we are going to get loud. Oh, and, Bernandas?" She smiled. "We will probably destroy some of your land and trees."

Bernandas shook his head to himself as he walked off. He loved the trees, but he knew what was needed, so he quickly headed back to get Gala and explain to her how she would be helping his pack and assisting Vitaliy to keep an eye out for spies.

Adela stepped forward, leaving John speechless. Yes, he only had eyes for Gala, but how could he ignore the mass changes that had taken place with Adela? Not only did she appear younger but looked so much hotter, too. Like she had some power over men to make them want her, her beauty was profoundly captivating.

She wore the same hooded outfit she had on the night before, but it didn't hide any of her ungodly features that would trap any man's eyes. "I hope you are ready for this, John," she said.

"Do you have no faith?" he asked, joking.

"I think I am more than anything you have ever dealt with before," she said, her face averted and wearing an evil grin. "I think you have never had to handle a woman like me before."

"Are you really so sure?"

"Wow! I guess I am going to have to school you well, boy."

Next thing he knew, she was tapping him on the shoulder.

How the hell? I was just looking at her.

He closed his eyes and turned around. "If you are that fast, how am I going to fight you?"

"My speed is not what should scare you, but my strength and the fact I am starting to be able to read minds."

"You can read minds?"

"Yes, I cannot control it and it only happens when it wants to on its own."

"So, are we training me or you today?"

"Funny you should ask, because I am not sure, and on top of everything else, I have to worry about not killing you during training."

John's face lost all color as those last few words ran out of her mouth. On top of everything else, she had to worry about not killing him? Was she serious or just trying to spoof him? But the solemn expression on her face and body language said it was no joke at all.

Pulling down the bill of his cap, he took a defensive stance and prepared for what he knew was going to be a rough day.

"Ready, John?"

"Yes, ma'am, never more so."

Needing to first see how hard she could hit him, Adela started with a barrage of hits and kicks, each one a little stronger than the one before. In the beginning, John did well with blocking and countering, but it didn't take long before she found his threshold, where she stayed but mixed up the attacks she gave him.

He did his best to block, duck, and even counter some of her attacks, but the force was more than he was used to. They went from one side to the other, and it was mainly Adela that dished out the attacks, more so as John began to lose heart.

"Come on, damn it!" she shouted at him. "Are you going to just be my boxing bag?"

Heaving for breath, John fought to regain his energy, but every inch of his body screamed out in pain from the beating it had just experienced.

"Listen to me, John. You need to learn how to tap into your Guardian powers more. There are going to be others, much faster and stronger than myself, and I am not giving you all I have."

John leaned against a tree for a moment, his head resting on his hand.

"Whatever it is that makes the Guardian in you provide more energy and strength, you need to learn to call it." Adela gave him a nod of encouragement. "Are you ready?" Although unsure about being able to carry on, John closed his eyes and thought of the one he loved. Their loving memories, the things she said to make him laugh and smile, and then he thought about the monsters that wanted to kill them both, reminding himself that he needed to stop the ones who wanted to bring them harm — until he felt his strength begin to regain.

Adela smiled when John turned towards her, his eyes glowing even more than before. That a boy. She gave him a moment to focus as he approached, and said, "Now, John, we are going at the same pace as before, but this time you need to be attacking me, too."

She was surprised when she landed her first blow right in the square of his chest and he just looked at her as he brought his hand down to strike her arm away. In the next instant, they continued to fight, and John was soon dishing out as many attacks as her, hitting way harder than before.

Deciding to up the game, Adela gave him the hardest hit she had ever given anyone. Although not her hardest possible, the blow sent him off his feet and flying back ten feet into a tree. The blow created a huge spiraling crack through the massive trunk that had to be centuries old.

Walking over to the tree, where John sat at the base, Adela motioned with her finger in the air for John not to attack.

Caressing the tree with her hand brought regret. She shook her head, thinking about how her pure friend would react. The tree she had damaged was the tree they had climbed as children and played in for hours on end. She could picture it as if it were yesterday. Their laughter from before she was turned. Cruelly, they had him bitten in front of her, telling her that they had given her friend as her first slave. Baldemar had always been a sick bastard and enjoyed torturing Adela, even from the beginning.

"Bernandas is going to pitch a fit tonight." She sighed before continuing, "Because this is the very tree he and I played on as children." She sighed again. "His father was one of my father's servants, and we grew up playing together, despite the social class difference."

"So, you have known him your whole life?"

"He has always been like family to me. It broke my heart to see how he was turned."

"What do you mean?"

She patted and hugged the tree as if it was an old friend before turning to John. "When my family was wiped out by Baldemar and his coven, it was over this land that they wanted. He decided to turn me and keep me as his trophy piece for this victory. He always tried to control my heart, and was infuriated when he realized that even though I was turned, I still had enough love for Bernandas to not only hide him but not to feed on him, so he dragged Bernandas down to the basement, where kept his prized werewolf, and held him for the beast to take a bite out of my dearest friend. I am hoping to see you rip out this man's heart, by the way."

She grabbed him by both of his shoulders and rubbed deeply. Let's call it a day," she whispered to him. "We don't want to kill any more of his trees."

They headed to the fire ring, where they found Gala, and Adela left John with his woman, telling Gala to take care of him and to have him ready at the crack of dusk for more training.

Gala seemed surprised by the changes in Adela. How could she look so much younger in all ways? She turned to John. "You need a shower," she said, hitting his arm. "Badly! Oh, god! You have never smelt so bad before."

"It's been a rough day, huh," he said, rubbing his face and completely worn out. "Let's head home, baby before he notices what we have done to one of his trees."

"What tree?"

"Adela flung me into their childhood playground of a tree, and I think wolf-boy is going to take it badly, judging by her reaction."

"Oh, god, he is crazy about any tree, let alone something like that." She grabbed John's arm and dragged him home.

While John took a long, long hot shower, Gala prepared dinner for him, for she knew he had to be starving. Somehow, he had snuck into the bed chamber and lit a slew of candles before her return, which took her by surprise as she entered looking for him and found not only the flowers but also him sprawled out on the bed face down wearing only his shorts.

"Today was hard to you, sweetie?" she asked.

"Yeah. Adela wants not only to get me ready but figure out her new strengths, too."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"She has become an ancient and has a lot of new abilities and has no idea of the strengths of her old ones."

She climbed up onto his back, straddling him so she could massage his aching back. "So, she is going to fight them herself?"

"No, we — I mean she and I are going to do it together. She is still far weaker than the others and believes that I might need a little help."

Gala rolled off his back, her fists clenched. "Your food is getting cold. Go eat and get to sleep." She made quotation marks with her fingers, "You two have a lot of 'training' in the morning."

"Come on, baby, don't be like that." He reached out for her, but she just shrugged her shoulder away as soon as he touched it and said something in Russian that sounded rude. Not taking the hint, John tried for a few moments before giving in and heading out to the kitchen to eat alone.

He pondered over Gala's mood swings as he ate — how they disturbed him. He never knew how to react to them at all.

When he went back in, she curled up with him and allowed him to hold her, but clearly, would not allow anything else that night if the underwear she wore to bed was any signal. John had learned from experience that it meant hands off.

# Day Two of Adela's Boot Camp

When John arrived at the training grounds the next evening, Adela already waited there for him. With her back to him, her long jet black hair, tied back into a ponytail, swung past her shoulders, and John could fully appreciate the way her latex shorts and a sports top hugged her frame. On sneaker-clad feet, she spun to face him and seemed to be assessing John as she tapped the fingers of her right hand against her cheek.

"Hope you're ready," she finally said, "because today I am going to hit you harder and faster than you have ever experienced."

The ending wink she offered left John confused. He didn't know if she meant to be playful, as he'd never seen her that way before. "I just hope you brought your A-game!" he responded.

"Feeling cocky, today, I see."

"No more than usual."

"Let's see you put your money where your mouth is," she said with a playful laugh.

From the woods, Gala watched on, her hands clenching and teeth grinding the more she saw. She barely recognized the woman flirting with John. Besides never having seen Adela behave in such a way before, Gala had always pictured the ancients as maturing more at the time of change, not regressing into a teenager's state of mind.

John stamped his foot into the ground a few times and cracked his neck, trying to get ready for what was about to happen. He stopped, though, when Adela began warm up stretches in front of him.

She motioned for him to do the same. "Can't have you out of training due to a pulled muscle, now can we?"

What the hell? Since when had vampires needed to stretch? Though John couldn't deny enjoying the view as he watched her, nor the effect it had on his body. God, her body was perfect. He couldn't take his eyes off the perfect rump.

Sure, he loved Gala, but every man looked a little. And John did it guilt free, seeing as the only thoughts stirring through him as he studied the tightening and stretching of Adela's muscles was the times Gala did her backbends in only her underwear and bra in front of him.

Adela motioned John forward with her fingers. When he was only about ten feet away, she ran towards him. John didn't understand the action until she jumped with both feet in the air and pounded against his hardened abs.

He shot backward from the assault, sliding about twenty feet across the ground on his ass. John jumped to his feet and shook it off as he ran towards her. Adela also charged, but as she jumped, he fell back and slid beneath her, spinning around to face her, just as she did to him, with his hands planted on the ground in preparation to move if needed.

Laughing, Adela smacked the ground with her hand. "That-a-boy, John!"

Her next charge kept her low to the ground. John charged back, but leaped after her and, in midair, spun around and grabbed her by the torso. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he flipped into a backbend and slammed her off the ground, even as his own feet were skidding across the earth.

Reaching up over her head, she used the momentum to propel John over her and rolled onto her feet, swinging at him repeatedly, as he threw punches while trying to block the incoming attack from her. He mostly blocked and then, hunkering down like a boxer, rammed his ribcage into hers. Pushing her back gave him the space and time he needed to react and try to get some hits of his own in.

It was evident by the fire in their eyes, that they both loved the moment, and were both having fun.

Picking up speed, John's movements grew faster as he bobbed and ducked, jabbing and hitting more like a boxer. As a child, John friend's dad had been a Navy silver gloves boxer and had spent a lot of time working with his son's friends. John drew on his old lessons with each blow he threw.

From opposite, Adela kicked and hit him with a smirk on her face. Their speeds would have made their actions almost a blur to the human eye.

Gala grew angrier and angrier watching Adela with her man. The more she observed, the more she became convinced that Adela was flirting with him. I should just leave him here and see how he does without me. He is the lucky one.

Gala always had a high opinion of herself, even though it was always someone else that gave her whatever she had. When human, she had lived off her parents' income, never earning a cent of her own and always having her hand out for more from her parents. As a vampire, Adela had always taken care of her. She had never had a man who loved her, and she was too spoilt to recognize the gift for what it was or to understand the worth of his love.

The battle grew more and more feverish as the attacks from Adela became more intense. Trees ended up snapped in half as they slammed each other against them. The area had begun to resemble a battlefield rather than a forest training ground, as both of them pushed harder and harder.

Adela was curious to discover how much he could handle until she overstepped the mark. She grabbed him by the shoulders and flung herself over him without letting go. As soon as her feet touched down, she dropped to her knees and hurled him towards the trees, sending him crashing into a tree, which snapped in half on impact.

Both of the girls' hearts stopped for a moment, as they stared at him laying there in a crumpled and broken state, covered in chunks of wood.

They both seemed to bolt for him at the same time.

Gala, shockingly faster, slid the last few feet on her knees and lifted his head up onto her lap. "Baby boy, baby boy, please open your eyes." Gala cried as she held him.

"My god, Gala, I am sorry. I thought he could handle it."

Adela dropped to her knees, her gaze flicking from an unmoving John to Gala as she held him and sobbed, begging him to come back to her. Praying for him to be merely unconscious, Adela tried to comfort Gala, for she all too well understood the feeling of losing the one that you love.

Gala's body trembled as she raised her face upward and begged to the spirits to allow him to come back to her. She turned to Adela with pure hate and anger twisting her features. "I thought you were going to be careful with him."

"Oh, sweetie, I didn't mean to. You need to understand — I thought he could handle it."

Gala drew in a breath, ready to spit words of venom at Adela, but ceased as John took a breath. "Oh, god, he is alive." Tears spilled from her eyes as she tried to hug him tighter without hurting him.

He reached up to wipe the tears away, and seemed to fight for his next breath as he asked, "Did anyone get the plate number of the truck that hit me?"

Gala slapped him. "You're not funny, not at all."

Coughing and laughing at the same time, he began to sit. Caressing her face, he said, "I love you too much to leave you angel lips."

Gala blushed and kissed him, but not too much, as he still seemed dazed.

Adela rubbing John's back and patted Gala on her hand. When her eyes met Gala's, they seemed to say I am so sorry. I did not mean to hurt him.

Gala took Adela's hand and held it for a second.

"So, how many more times are you going to have to knock me out to make sure I'm not going to die?" John asked.

Adela shook her head. "You might be a little sick in the head, but you are right. We do need to do this."

"Oh, god," Gala groaned. "Can't we just call it a day already?"

Adela nodded, shaking John's head with a rough brush of her hand. "I believe that would be best. You should probably get him home and see what is broken."

John cracked his back, covering his eyes as he shook his head. The bones of his back cracked loud as he climbed to his feet with Gala's help. His eyes still remained a little unfocused.

One on their feet, it became clearer just how much damage had been done to the forest. Everywhere, lay trees snapped and broken like toothpicks. Almost as if a tornado had ripped through the forest.

Draping an arm around each of their shoulders, Adela and Gala helped John back towards the house where John and Gala had been staying for the past few weeks.

"You know, Gala," Adela said when they were almost to the back door, "we do not have much time left to prepare him. We need to get back to the castle before rumors start to flare that I have abandoned them."

"Can't you go back and the wolves keep training him?" Gala asked.

"No, my girl. He has become far too much for them to work with. If not for my new ancient powers, I would have little more to show him, myself."

"So, when are we going home?" Gala asked.

"We have a week more and I need to see what I can get out of him, and myself as well."

"So, you have no idea of what you are capable, either?"

"Not a single idea, my dear. It feels great, knowing that I have so much to explore in myself, but also scares me that I do not have enough to protect the coven."

Adela feared for the fate of her coven shone clear in her eyes at times and seemed to weigh on her shoulders. Gala, however, was more worried about the beatings John was taking and how much farther could they push him without killing him or maiming him. She just wanted to get him home and fixed up for the next morning.

"You know, Gala, on the next night, I want you there. I am going to push him and I think you can help out. You two need to work on your connection and figure out how to activate his strengths more."

"Do you really believe that I have such an influence on him?"

"I know I did on my Guardian, and John has proven to gain strength when he feels you are in need. For all we know, you might be able to... feel when he has had enough, and allow us to save his life."

Gala took the words to heart because she knew that he was able to feel when she was in danger, but would she be able to do the same.

As they arrived at the doorstep, Adela held the door to enable Gala to get him in without bumping him around too much.

Once the two of them were alone, Gala helped him into the shower. As she aided him in the removal of his torn and tattered clothing, she grew disgusted at his wounds. Although she knew the bruises and abrasions would be gone before the sun set, it still broke her heart to know what he was going through, night after night, just to protect her.

*****

John woke the next morning, still stiff and sore from the night before, to quiet laughter drifting through from the kitchen area — what sounded like Gala and Adela laughing like teenage girls.

He headed out to the kitchen and, as he entered the room, Gala placed down her cup and held out her arms to him.

"My poor baby," she exclaimed. "Adela, you are such a bully."

"Oh, please. Are you joking? He is our one shot at this."

"Why does it seem like it might be you who is the only hope." Gala pulled him close, kissing him as he grunted in pain; she could tell the last match had pushed him a bit far. In honest, she was worried about Adela accidently killing him. She'd noticed that Adela seemed to be gaining strength in her abilities even faster than her beloved John. She kissed him on the head before continuing with, "Adela, please be more careful with him."

"Do you believe the ancients are going to be easy on him?" Adela asked, taking a sip of tea and eloquently holding the cup in both hands like a princess.

Everything about Adela's persona screamed of royalty to John. She omitted a type of royal energy, somewhat majestic — even in her new younger form, it was evident in her posture, her mannerisms, her charm. Her aura, too, released an unreal amount of, not just royal energy but, undeniably heretical energy suggestive of her family being very powerful for years.

"No, but Adela if you kill him..." Gala said, her voice cracking.

"My god," Adela cut in, "one minute you hate him, the next you cry at me that I might kill him. It is you who are more likely to cause his death, than anyone else, with your mistreatment of him over your own insecurities."

Before anyone could get another word in, Adela set her cup down and stood, primping her clothing before walking towards the door. Spinning back, she snapped, "You, Gala, need to stop with your nonsense and embrace what you have with him. I know what you are afraid of, and the younger girls at the coven should not be a worry to you. Least of all, should you worry what they might think." Adela was halfway out the door when she paused again and turned to John. "Get some rest. You have only been out for a couple of hours, and we need to step up our training at the crack of dusk."

John, however, was more intent on giving Gala all of his attention than getting any sleep. He pulled her close to kiss her, and although she reciprocated, it seemed obvious her mind was someplace else. John suspected Adela's words held responsibility for her mood. The problem with everyone upsetting Gala, though, was that John always seemed to be the one bearing the brunt of it.

******

John awoke to Gala kneading at his chest, almost like a cat, but the look on her face warned she wanted a word with him. Unfortunately, not all of Gala's needed talks were good for him.

Rubbing his eyes and trying to collect his thoughts, he sat up and stretched out a bit. "Baby doll, what's wrong?"

"I am worried about today. Adela wants to push you even harder and I am worried that she might kill you."

The seriousness in her eyes told John she wasn't joking around. Her nerves seemed on edge as if she'd been fussing about it for a long time already. Even her nails had been chewed down.

Gala sat up and wrapped both her hands around his upper arm. "Please think of me while you're fighting, and try to survive. Adela believes your strength comes from me, so we need to figure out how to open it up." She patted John on the shoulder, her expression still heavy with worry, but also with a dose of high expectation.

"Okay," he said, hoping to settle her, "I'll think about you when I am fighting."

On the way to the training grounds, Gala seemed even more nervous than she had been before. John tried his best to calm her by holding her and pausing to kiss her, to tell her everything would be alright.

Gala wondered how he could be so calm about the whole ordeal. She was scared to death about his life, about his life not her own.

Adela was already there when they arrived, circling the space, her drawn brows suggesting she was deep in thought.

"You look as though you are planning my demise today," John called out, wincing when Gala smacked his arm at the joke. Leery of pushing it further, he clenched onto her hand and whispered, "I love you, and I promise nothing will happen to me today."

"You better not get hurt," she mouthed back.

"I am trying to figure out how to get you to open up your gift a bit more," Adela said, turning to them. "So, I am going to have Gala standing off to the side, where she will hopefully find a way to get you to open up."

John nodded. "Let's do it, then."

"I am glad to see you are in high spirits because I am going to teach you a few things today."

"If you say so, Adela!"

"Hey!" Gala scolded. "Don't be so cocky, and pay attention."

John decided to himself that he'd quit teaching her phrases like that. She seemed to use too much of the language picked up from him against him.

Adela and John both looked at each other, and Adela motioned to him that it was time to start.

She appeared behind him again, without him seeing her, but he did sense her, and he grabbed her hand as she grasped at his shoulder. The blow to her chest he followed through with knocked her back a few feet.

Adela smiled, she raised brows showing her surprise. She ran towards him and jumped about ten feet before reaching him, rolled until about three feet away, and leaped forward with landing a punch on John's face that sent him spinning around and down to the ground.

More embarrassed than hurt, John pushed onto his haunches, one hand on the ground for balance and maybe some power on the way back up. He glanced over at Gala for a fleeting second, winking to let her know all was well and bolted up towards Adela. He swung his fists as he got closer, left, right, left and another right, yet made not a single impact on her at all.

She laughed. "You're going to need to do better than that, my dear boy."

He shook his head and looked to Gala for some strength found her already staring his way. The intensity of her expression seemed to be telling him to look deep, to pull from his hidden strength. As his eyes began to start to glow, Adela smiled her encouragement.

The battle went on for hours, and the fury of the fight seemed to increase every so often.

Adela held back less and less, though still cautious of how much she could give him without killing him. She also had begun digging within herself to enable her to hit him. It ceased being only a game long before.

Her strength jolted through her with a huge jump, the power surging through her. Her attacks suddenly became stronger, faster.

The unprecedented glowing of her eyes worried John, and he concentrated on Gala, trying to keep up with what was being handed to him.

Adela did not feel as she normally did, she felt more powerful, more important, and godlier than she had ever felt. She felt a burst of energy that felt somewhat evil, but also somewhat good — as if nothing, nor no one, could stop her.

The blue of her eyes shone even brighter and lit up the night, and she charged at John, screaming like a mad banshee. She kicked out, knocking him eighteen or twenty feet back. As soon as he went to touch down with his feet, she hit him again, shooting him into the air, and met him as he began to drop with a spinning kick that sent him plummeting to the earth. A huge burst of dirt and dust blew up as the impact left an indentation around his body.

Gala screamed out his name, fear in her eyes as she tried to peer through the cloud of dust and debris. Please let him be alive. The glint in Adela's eyes concerned her greatly as if she'd been possessed by some evil being on a different planet or plane.

She sighed out her relief when she heard John's breaths, followed by the sound of growling from the midst of the cloud of dirt.

Within the smog, John climbed to all fours, and picking up his fist, he slammed it into the ground.

Fist hovering above the ground, he looked up at Gala, growling. For a second, his eyes stopped glowing green and changed to a bright yellow. She gasped, they turned back to green.

As John growled, his bones and skin felt as if they were cracking and breaking, as though they were expanding. His spine snapped and popped, and it felt to John as though electricity ran through his system.

To Gala, he seemed to have gained twenty pounds in muscle. His eyes shone like green torches. His growling deepened. Everything about him reminded her of how a werewolf took on its wolf form.

Tipping his head back, John howled into the air like a rabid beast and charged after Adela.

She laughed as if she was drunk, but John shut her up by striking her and sent her sailing through the air. In what should have been an impossible move, he launched himself forward thirty feet, raising his hands up over his head in a singularly-formed fist, and slammed down on Adela's skull as she hit the ground, sending her smashing into the dirt below.

Before she could recover, he kicked her out across the field, bracing himself to follow, but Gala quickly put herself between him and Adela, begging him to stop.

Adela used both arms to lift herself up off the ground. Dirt covered her face, but no cuts or blemishes marked her angelic complexion. "Come now, Gala. He and I are just starting to have fun."

Gala stepped out from in between them. Although still shaken, she was glad to see that John would obey her even when fully enraged.

Adela spun herself up and around, onto her feet, and beckoned John to bring it, but holding her hand up for a moment to get John to halt, she turned to Gala. "This is what we need. We need to open up his hidden powers, but it seems we have also opened up some of my own newfound abilities." With her eyes still on Gala, she nodded for John to commence with his attack on her.

John growled, rage in his eyes, his body humming with the power of something none of them had seen before. Adela braced herself — she needed him to stay focused and not lose control, so he would know how to deal with the real ancients when the time arrived.

The rest of their battle was not contained to the normal training fields but took over almost the whole forest. Adela nudged any worries aside. Time to push both of them as far as they could before sunrise.

While trying to keep up with the fight, Gala ran across to where the wolf pack and Vitaliy stood watching. It seemed every being witnessed the destruction of the forest, cringing not at their family homes being destroyed, but also at the thought of what strength a real ancient had, if Adela was only a newbie. They only hoped and prayed that the boy would not fall in doom to the ancients because it surely would mark their demise as well.

# The Return Home

Gala was so glad to be back home at the castle, back in her comfort zone, back in her personal palace. She was also happy to be in her own bed, surrounded by her own things, and to no longer be bombarded by the smell of wolf.

Seeing Gala more relaxed helped John to relax. He felt guilty that he had chosen to be around strangers, ones who wanted to cause him harm, more than be with her.

Adela was greatly bothered that Gala never took John's thoughts or emotions into consideration. Since being back, Gala, while surrounded by her friends in the coven, had ignored and even started being cold to John — almost as if to make her vampress friends happy. Adela also hadn't been happy upon hearing one of the males mocking Gala for laying with a human, calling her a whore who sleeps with jungle monkeys, because he was also born in another country.

She knew not what to do with either event and worried over John's mental state since that was as important as everything else for his survival. He needed to be on his toes, ready to deal with anything that might come his way. Depression could only cause sloppiness and for John to be unprepared.

The younger vampires were all by the main entrance to the castle, talking and joking, mostly poking fun at Gala. Gala tried to play it off, tried not to care about their opinions, but it was hard. Dear God, what if they think less of me.

She tried to act as though unsure of her actions, as her friend spewed twisting words about her boyfriend in an obvious attempt to make Gala reject the man who loved her so much. She'd never realized before how prejudiced her friend was toward two beings from other countries being together.

Fury swirled through Adela as she watched on. She called Gala into the hallway, waiting until she'd joined her before roaring, "What are you thinking?"

Gala frowned. "Nothing, we were just talking."

"Are you truly so stupid? In another year, most of them will be gone. Soon your man is going to do everything he can to save us all!"

"But they are right. We are not just human and vampire. He was born in the States and it is not correct for us to be together."

"Are you nuts? He is half Slavic. Not to mention, he loves you more than anything. Do you not see that your man thinks of you first, and their men do not even think about them unless it is convenient?"

"I don't know. Maybe you are right, maybe they are right, but I do not need this kind of relationship."

Unaware of the goings on downstairs, John lay in bed, still trying to rest after the battle he'd had with Adela a few days before. Adela had advised that he needed to be ready for what was to come, and he took that seriously.

"They are only jealous of what you have and I am going to end it now!" Adela roared and dragged Gala by the arm into the front entrance way. Coming to a stop in front of the fireplace, she calmed her voice and asked, "Who thinks Gala is making a mistake, being with that thing upstairs?"

One of the boys raised his glass of wine he held. "Hear, hear, that is what I have been telling everyone." He smiled at everyone, his glass raised as if to invite them all to a huge toast.

Adela wanted to puke. He had always been a waste of space, so proud of himself and his stupid blatherings. The young man would not only mess up his own life but of all those around him, forever damning himself and those in his company to be nothing.

He smirked and said things of such stupidity that it did not even register in Adela's ears. Things like, how in the dead of night, he would stab the outsider himself, and anyone lying with him.

Adela rolled her eyes and grabbed Gala by the arm. "Summon him," she ordered.

"Why?" she asked. "There is no need."

Adela grew angrier at Gala's worries of what her so-called friends thought over the man who would die to give her everything. Twisting Gala's arm, she hissed, "Oh, my dear, you are in grave danger at this moment."

Fear filled Gala's eyes. How could Adela be so angry over the truth of which her friends spoke? An immense pain seared into Gala's arm as Adela squeezed until it felt as if it might rupture.

As Gala's pain and the need for assistance spiked through John, he shot up in bed, immediately confused by the miss signals she seemed to be sending out, telling him not to come. Regardless, he jumped out of bed and ran out, then down the long hallway. At the very end stood the banister leading to one of the two spiraling staircases down to where his beloved waited. He launched over the banister, plunging about the full twenty feet to the floor below, and landed in a crouched position ready to pounce on whoever dared harm her. His eyes already glowed a bright dark green, and his half-naked body had veins throbbing against his skin as his muscle mass heaved to the motion of his breaths.

Adela leaned her head to the side and aimed a sly smile at the wine-holding buffoon. "He is planning on killing you in your sleep and Gala, my dear friend."

John studied her. Was she serious? Or had been merely a statement made by a drunken maiden.

She nodded her chin for him to attack. "For the love of god, kill him, because he will kill you in your sleep. He is a coward and will never say it to your face." She smirked and released her hold on Gala. "Wait until you see what her human can do."

The drunkard laughed. "I have no problems with the one not born of Mother Russia, as long as he leaves our people alone."

Adela sighed. "This is the trouble I have with those I turned after the Revolution — they all believe this stupidity. You know, I remember when Russians could speak three or four languages. To work for hard earned money was not enough, you needed to also be well educated." Adela had many issues since she had lived for so long and her father's property and business covered from the Baltic to the Black sea. He gathered land where he could and ensured his daughter was well-traveled. Adela's coven was from mostly what became Russia, Ukraine, Poland. Due to her views on her coven, her reputation as a fair and strong queen, she had followers that would come to join her.

"What trash do you speak of, wench?" the drunkard asked, taking a slug of his drink so sloppily it ran down his cheeks and onto his shirt. "Before you turned me, my grandfather told me all."

"You are a coward and a waste of space. It was a mistake to turn you, but I was trying to do your lady a favor when you fell ill." Frustrated, Adela motioned for John to attack him.

Anger and fear filled Gala. Her boyfriend against her friend's boyfriend could not end well.

The drunk threw his glass at Gala and said something in Russian to her. The glint in her eyes told John it was bad, and in the next breath, the drunk attacked.

John jumped halfway across the room, landing in front of the drunk. Spinning around, he backhanded him hard enough to send him sailing into the wall. As the male slid down the wall, John hit him in the stomach with unreal power and strength, a rapid fire left-right-left, followed by an uppercut to the chin, which sent him sailing through the air again.

As he hit the ground, John grabbed him by his hair and held him in place as he rammed his knee into the drunkard's face over and over again. The drunk vampire began to grow heavier and his eyes to close. John loosened his grasp and gave one final blow with his knee, harder than the rest, and sent him soaring through across the hallway. On landing, his body skidded across the floor, coming to a halt at Adela's feet.

Sipping on her glass of wine, Adela stepped over the waste of space and addressed the room. "Who in here believes a word of what this man says?" The question reverberated around the room as she studied people's reactions. "Who are his followers and who are mine?" After another glance around the room, she vanished only to reappear in front of two girls. She thrust out her hands, and as the girls fell to the ground, Adela stood holding their hearts in her hands.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the maggot of a vampire began crawling toward the entrance.

He'd almost reached the door when Adela's heel dug into the back of his skull. The weight lifted, and he sighed in relief, but in the next breath, the heel slammed back down, breaking his skull into pieces that skittered across the floor.

"Anyone caught speaking these words of utter stupidity will be damned to the same fate!" Adela roared at the room.

She strode until facing Gala. "Be careful who you let close to your heart. Most are hateful bitches, spewing venom of hatred and lies, just trying to take what you have." She motioned for John to follow as she sashayed off toward the kitchen. Gala could sulk over the loss of the trash she called friends. The three culprits who twisted Gala's thoughts. Yes, Gala still had other issues of feeling trapped, but those were hers to deal with alone.

Adela was more concerned with getting the boy fed and readying him for a real fight.

# Adela's Speech

"My coven," Adela said, staring out over the gathered vampires, "we have gathered here today in our great hall to discuss treachery, jealousy, hatred, and enslavement. You all may not be aware, but a spy was caught among these very halls, listening in on our private conversations.

"I have done my best throughout these centuries to look out for myself and this coven, but every member has their personal freedoms and rights. Those things that have been begrudged from others and myself when I was a mere member of another coven.

"In these centuries, I have seen brethren and sisters get murdered just for seeking their own freedom and speaking the truth. I, myself, had the love of my life struck down in front of me, just because his strength scared the ancients. For those who have not noticed, my own transformation has begun, and I can't help but wonder how long it will be before they come to slaughter this coven and myself, because of my newfound powers.

"We have hope, however. And that hope is lying in Gala's bed upstairs. Like my one true love, he shares a unique power troubling to the ancients. His kind has been hunted down through the years and believed to be extinct, but our lovely Gala has found that she has one of her own. This is the reason we disappeared for that month and a half. To get him trained and give him the fighting chance that mine did not have.

"Soon, my coven, we will come under attack from other covens by the orders of the ancients, as having a Guardian and newfound ancient in our midst tips the scales in a way that they cannot have. My coven, I need to know who is with me and who is against me. I need to know who will stay and fight, and who will flee.

"There is honor in the freedom that we seek from the entrapment we have been under all of these years. I promise all those who stay and fight along with us a high rank and stature when this is over. I only ask that my youth stay clear of the ancients, for you would not remain standing for more than a blink of an eye.

"I want to return this land back to its wondrous glories it had when my family ruled it before the ancients swept through here and turned it into the plagued and diseased state that we now witness. There was a time when my father and grandfather made sure that even the lowest peasant had enough to be happy and no one was begrudged anything they needed.

"It was a dark night long, long ago when I heard the screams of my father's workers and servants outside these very walls. I remember seeing the torches outside fall one by one to the ground, as one by one the bearers of those torches had their lives ripped from them. I can still remember my father giving the orders for some of the maidens to take myself and some of the youth belonging to the servants into the secret caverns within in these walls, and to sneak us out into the back forest where we would hide in the very caves that the wolves claim as their home now.

"Most of those wolves that you see now are the loyal servants of my family, even after all of these years, even after all of the misery they have been through. I owe it not just to you, my coven, but to my extended coven, which is the pack that looks after us in our sleep to release you all from the shackles once placed around our necks.

"Collectivism is an illusion of choice, and that is not what we are facing. What faces us is a full on tyranny from the ancients that have enslaved this entire world throughout time. It is time to free not only vampires and wolves but also the humans who may never know that we exist."

The coven erupted into clapping and cheering.

Overwhelmed by the positive reaction, Adela raised her hands into the air and signaled for her coven to settle down. Once they had quieted, she continued with, "My children, my flock, my coven, and my pack, these next words should ring very true for you all.

"It is time for you all to look around you. Some of you will not make it to the end of this inevitable war with the other covens, but some of you will be around to see the freedom for all living beings. Those of you who are still with me at the end, I promise to give high rank and status in our new world. This is not the false new world order that we hear about on T.V., but real freedom from these monsters that have held us for too long.

"I bid you all a good night and will understand if I see a few fewer faces tomorrow night. I'm already aware that not all will be willing to do what is needed to save this coven. I, myself, a young ancient, will do all I can to save whom I can. As you can see, my transformation seems to be a bit different than with most. I have a strange feeling that my powers have come on a little faster than normal. So, I leave you tonight to think about what part you will play in what will become a historical moment."

Adela left the stage upon which her throne sat and headed for Vitaliy. "Trap is set," she whispered. "Let's see if we have any other spies."

# A New Day

Wrapped in blankets and surrounded by pillows, John lay with Gala in his arms, relieved that she happened to be in one of her happier moods. He never knew from day to day, hour to hour, moment to moment, what type of mood she could be in, but just had taken them as they came. Despite it all, he adored her more than anything else, and his heart truly belonged to her.

In her moments of happiness, she seemed like an angel that had fallen from heaven. Her eyes took on a whole different light and life of their own, like a child who was seeing things of wonder for the very first time — a heavy contrast to the other times when they held no radiance at all.

Moments, where he got to just hold her, were among John's favorites. He loved how she felt in his arms, the softness of her skin, her scent that could drive anyone mad. At those times, she showed the spirit of an angel, while in other fleeting moments she could be colder than any frozen heart on Earth.

Adela had decided that John needed to take an active part in the coven to make everyone feel more comfortable with him and vice versa. His role would include helping Gala with her errands of collecting from the local shops owned by the coven, as well as helping some of the others out around the property — which would, Adela believed, help John to learn the lay of the land, so when they were under attack he would know where he could go and how to get around faster.

Things seemed to be progressing well. He was learning Gala's daily routine, and also getting to know some of her familiars. He'd even come to realize that the last man he tangled with was one of the packs that had to help him to train.

Gala would just shake her head at how easily John had clicked with the wolves. When she tired of their incessant chatter, she would deport him to the pub to save her own ears. Though, it troubled her that some at the castle were still standoffish with him; while they never said a word outright, enough hints were dropped.

On the other hand, other coven members were more than glad to get to know him, and although the hunger for blood sometimes made it hard on some of them, the problem did not concern Adela or Gala. After all, John could take care of himself. Sometimes, though, John could sense that some of them hated him for his birthplace alone and nothing more.

Adela and John still spent time training and working on trying to figure out how to control the bond between John and Gala better. Adela believed two sitting down and really working on it bond could potentially help Gala pick up some new abilities, also — at least, Adela hoped so, as it would enhance Gala's chances of defending herself, should she need to. Besides their long hours of meditation, Adela would train with John in front of Gala, and have Vitaliy train with Gala in front of John, hoping to spark something in her or his abilities.

All seemed a little too calm, though, and that worried Vitaliy because he knew a storm to be brewing, and the longer it took, the longer the plot would be preplanned, meaning a worse attack. Vitaliy had hoped to deal with one coven at a time, but he had a bad feeling that it would not happen that way, and had begun growing more and more impatient, which was not his way. Adela also shared in these fears, though she only addressed them with Vitaliy in the secret conferences they held in her bedroom.

"Adela, what are we sitting here for?" Vitaliy asked. "Are we really going to let the war come to our door?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we need to be trying to gather some information on their plans. You know, as well as I do, that the longer they have to plot, the worse to the attack will be."

Adela nodded. "I know, but how do we do this? Now that they know about us, I am sure they are closing up all loose ends with our coven and associated covens."

"I have no idea, at this moment, but I do know that we need to be taking precautions." He ensured he had Adela's full attention. "You know as well as I do that Gala will be the main target. No matter how strong the Guardian is, the vampress is always going to be its Achilles heel."

"I know!" Adela roared. "Do you not think that I remember what happened all those years ago? It is my fault he is dead."

"Lose that tone with me, Adela. You may be able to kill me, but you owe me more respect than that. Was it not I who was at your side all those years you mourned? Not just for your Guardian, but the time before, after we met when I helped you deal with the loss of your family. How many decades did you mourn your parents?"

Adela slowly walked over to her bed and ran her hand up and down the old artwork that had been carved into her majestic bed by her father's best craftsman. It remained one of the few things of beauty in her life that Baldemar did not strip away from her. She shuddered when she thought about all that she had lost — friends, family, and a lover that to this day she still longed for. Grasping the bed, she sat, her heart filled with hate, dread, and fear — all of which Baldemar put there. It terrified her that she would bear witness to more of those she loved perishing in front of her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to shake off the haunting feeling that he lurked in the shadows all those years, just waiting for another opportunity to make her suffer, to fill her heart with more woe. Baldemar was a sadistic bastard, for sure, and she hoped it would be she who ripped his heart from his chest. In truth, she had not just been pushing John, but herself also, hoping that she would be able to at least have the enjoyment of seeing his heart freshly torn from his chest and watching as it gave its final beat within the palm of her hand.

A cold-hearted bastard, Baldemar seemed to have outdated all of the other ancients. They all seemed to fear, loathe, and worship him in one heartbeat. He had an endless energy of evil that would consume anyone who happened to be in his company got too long. If you were not already evil in nature, rest assured he would corrupt you, or you would fall ill from all of the darkness that surrounded him.

"Yes, I know, my dear Vitaliy," Adela finally said. "I also remember our past, but need to save us, so we have a future."

"I figured this much, but wanted to make sure you were seeing clearly," Vitaliy said after patiently awaiting her response. "You train not so much to push the boy, but to push yourself, so I figured you, yourself, hoped to be the one to take Baldemar apart."

"If I am given the chance, I will without a thought. That man has haunted and tortured me throughout my whole life as a vampire." Standing, she turned toward Vitaliy.

Vitaliy swept in and embraced her in his arms. Stirring up old wounds had obviously bee too much for her. She wept on his shoulder and held onto him tightly. As her tears slipped down her face, it was obvious to Vitaliy that a lot of the emotional walls she had built throughout these years, strengthened by the loss of loved ones and a fear of losing the ones she had come to love, had been torn to ribbons by her transformation into an ancient. As well as appearing younger, her emotional scars that ran deeper than anyone could ever contemplate had been ripped back open, but at least were healing, and without all the ugly scarring that they had the last time. Her heart, though bleeding, bloomed like a freshly-budded rose, there for the earth to marvel and be breathless over.

His smile revealed the fangs normally tucked and hidden beneath, but also showed his love and pleasure that his beloved friend was finally finding rapture in the deeply-enduring and difficult path forced upon her.

"I know, I know," Vitaliy assured her. "These years have been hard on you, my dear friend." He kissed her cheek.

As she sobbed, she said, "You have always been the sweetest and dearest person in my life, since this entire hellish and tortuous nightmare began."

To his surprise, she returned his embrace, seeking out his lips, and the kiss between them soon filled with warmth and passion. Even as he responded, however, Vitaliy fretted over the change in her attention toward him. Could it be the change messing with her emotions? What if she will reject our friendship later? Even though she had transformed into the most beautiful creature Vitaliy had ever seen, it troubled him that everything between them could be ruined by one simple kiss.

He pulled back, ignoring his lust and longing, and gazed into her beautifully, deep blue eyes. He studied her in a need to be sure she was aware of what she was doing. His heart pounded in his chest like it had never done, partly from the heat of the moment and partly due to concern that Adela's judgment, which he had followed and trusted in for years, was clouded.

Through their clothing, he felt her temperature rising along with his. The want in those unbelievable eyes that could capture any soul and heart of any one shone as brilliantly as he imagined his own to be doing.

Despite those, he had to be rational, he had to know it was a long-buried feeling that drove her, for her could bear it if she claimed it as a mistake once they had overstepped the line. "My beautiful lady, I am so afraid that you will regret this later and hate me," he admitted.

"My lord, do you question your queen?" She bit her lower lip with a look of unbridled lust and a sheen in her eyes that could melt and enthrall any living being.

Vitaliy's heart beat loudly in his chest and throat. Secretly, he had wanted Adela for so many years but had been afraid to overstep the mark and ostracize himself from her life. For him, it had always seemed not worth the risk. Not only was she beautiful before the transformation, but she was a leader that ruled with eloquence, strength, and nobleness, making him respect her more than any leader he had known in history. He truly believed she would one day unite and guide the covens to make the world a less dark and miserable place. He had never admired another as much as he did her.

"My Vitaliy, are you going to kiss me?" she enquired, her voice a soothing entrapment, like that of luring boats onto the rocks.

"My queen, my lady, you are the most majestically, beautiful woman I have ever met throughout this close on the millennium. The most honorable leader I have ever met. The thought of being banished from your life, later on, is unthinkable to me."

Reaching out, she drew him to her, her eyes locked on his the whole time, and began to once more kiss him as she took slow backward steps toward the bed.

Vitaliy's mind seemed blown in a million ways that he struggled to comprehend.

Step by step, enthralled by one another, they inched toward the bed. Reaching out a hand behind her, Adela found the edge of the mattress and smiled a wicked grin as she wasted no time in letting him fall onto her.

Vitaliy's mind raced with the how, why, and what the hell is going on? He could not believe his fortune. To be crashing on top of Adela on her mattress happened only in his dreams.

They bounced as they made impact with the mattress, both grinning and laughing throughout their intense kiss.

Brushing her hair from her face made her angelical beauty visible to Vitaliy's eyes stealing his breath. He'd found her awe-inspiring before the transition kicked in, but with it, she seemed to have gained a magnetic ability to draw anyone into her snare. God knew he was already ensnared in her trap with no way out.

She tore at his back with her nails, ripping trails down his spine, pausing only long enough for him to remove his shirt and reveal his perfectly cut body. She ran her hands down his chest and abs, before pulling him back down on top of her to once more lock lips.

The kissing and caresses quickly grew more demanding. As she bit his lip, he moaned in enjoyment, and her eyes darkened as she began to claw and bite at his neck, without using her fangs.

In a fast move, Adela spun them around, slamming Vitaliy down on his back, and with one of her hands on his chest, she was straddled him. As she pulled her own shirt over her shoulders and tossed it aside, her own body was revealed, one perfectly defined with full and ample breasts peeking from a black lace bra that seemed like a prize fit for only the most deserving. She was immaculate and impeccable in every way.

Vitaliy trailed his fingers slowly up her spine until they brushed over her bra strap. One swift move from his fingers unlocked her ungodly globes, allowing the black lace to land on his abs. All he could do for a moment was stare. The sight before him was even better than he had imagined. As he took them up in his palms, she leaned her head back, a sigh of bliss spilling from her. Each rub, pinch, and caress incited more sounds of pleasure, and Vitaliy knew what they were sharing to be far more meaningful than a normal casual romp, but rather a love affair that had been brewing for centuries and had reached the point of boiling over into an explosion the whole world would feel.

Bowing her back, he reached to undo his belt, and Vitaliy slid his hands down and unfastened her pants. The brim of black lace underwear, both sexy and tasteful peeked from within.

Adela tugged at his pants, pulling them off, and as she crawled back up him like a cat, it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. No stripper had ever moved in such a way.

She was above him and dominated every moment, as she teased, kissed, and bit him. At times, she paused to study him, biting her own lip, before she returned to her caresses. Her touch was torture and rapture combined. Vitaliy's eyes rolled upward. His toes curled.

When she finally stopped teasing, she tipped back her head until her hair tickled his thighs, and began to mount him. Vitaliy could not believe how perfectly tight she molded to him as she slid more and more down onto him. As she started to rock back and forth, up and down, his whole universe felt on the rim of implosion. Adela was a Goddess by all means possible. No woman could control the Galaxy with the same power as her draw.

She breathed in deeply and slowly as she pumped up and down on top of him. Moaning in ecstasy, she grabbed him by the throat with one hand, asserting to him that she was the master.

His eyes showed his defiance merged with submission, as her tactful timing of demanding loyalty held steady his flag that had already been at full mass inside of her warm, tight, and wet mound, trying not to go off before its time.

She grabbed him up by his shoulders and, lifting them inches from the mattress, slammed them both back down again as she forced him to roll over on top of her to assume control — or so he thought, because even below him, her hips rocked in an erotic and intoxicating manner until Vitaliy had to deep into his soul for self-control.

Her hands held his face keeping scant inches from hers, their eye held contact constantly as they heaved and moaned with one another, their mingling breaths deep and slow. Sweat coated both of their bodies — an unusual occurrence within the vampire race.

Adela's arms and palms began banging the mattress, and before Vitaliy could blink, she blasted them both off the bed and against the bedroom wall. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she bobbed up and down on him, her kisses grown heavier as she stroked his hair — until all Vitaliy could do was try his best to hold on. As she tilted her head back, her long black hair seemed to wave about her head in reaction to her thrusting, as she moaned and bit her lip. Her hands slipped from his shoulders to grab at her own breasts, as he held onto her waist above where her legs locked tightly over his hips. As she pinched and tugged at her breasts, moans and screams escalated until she wrapped her arms around his neck and pumped her hips faster. Faster still, growls merging with her moans.

As she finally screamed out, Vitaliy allowed his own release, his entire body relieved as the shot of pressure left him.

Her motions slowed, as she wiped her hair from her face. With a quiet laugh, followed by a kiss, she asked, "Why haven't we done that before now?"

"I have no idea," Vitaliy said. "Fear, perhaps."

"Fear?" she questioned.

"Yes, fear of losing you has always been a nightmare of mine."

She hugged him and kissed him once more. "That would never happen, Vitaliy. You have always been my most loyal friend."

# Change in the Air

There was an unfamiliar chill in the air, as John stood on the back stoop of the kitchen that evening, the first night of the full moon, his ears twitching at strange calling from within the woods. His entire body seemed to respond, and he bounced on the balls of his feet with a sudden craving for a run through the thickets.

From out of the forest, a wolf meandered — Vixen, John decided, as he recognized her eyes. She waltzed up to him and rubbed at his leg then his hand with her head. John smiled. "Come on, stop playing around. You can change — Gala has gone to the city with Adela for the night."

She didn't, though, but just kept rubbing his hand with her head until he gave in and hunkered down to pet her. The loving warmth in her eyes told John she longed for him in more than one way, and John showed patience as he made soft strokes along her back on each of her passes beneath his palm.

At her tongue hanging out, John laughed. "You can change any time now," he repeated.

"She can't," said Vitaliy, stepping out of the kitchen into the damp night air. "She is too young, and on the full moon, she is trapped as a wolf."

"Why is she like this, but the others turn into a werewolf?"

"That is a good question, and one I do not have an answer for. Some turn into a wolf, like her, and others into a werewolf. I have heard stories of some that can turn into both, but have yet to see it."

"Wow, so you're trapped like this all night, girl."

Vixen licked his hand and then his face.

"Vixen," Vitaliy said in a soft voice, "careful now. His vampress will kill you."

The puppy eyes she glanced up with seemed to ask You wouldn't tell on me, would you?

Both men lit up in laughter because they realized even as a wolf she could communicate with them perfectly.

"John, don't leave tonight," Vitaliy said. "Adela wants at least you or her here, at all times, to protect the coven."

John nodded his acknowledgment. "I already gathered that."

"Could I ask you a question, boy?"

"Yeah, go right ahead."

"Have you noticed anything different about Adela?"

"You mean other than becoming a complete sexpot who's driving everyone mad?"

"Yes, other than that. I am asking about her powers."

"It seems like she and I are growing almost at the same speed in unison with one another. Is that what you are asking?"

Vitaliy nodded. "My boy, I have never seen a vampire become an ancient and have their new gifts and strengths grow so rapidly before." He started to walk away before adding, "Nor have I ever seen one become younger in appearance."

"So, that's strange, then?"

"Yes, and she seems to have a gift with alluring males to her."

"Amen to that. Even with my Guardian bond to Gala, she is tempting as hell to me."

"Careful with your words, boy. You may get bitten for them."

John didn't know whether to take that as a personal threat.

Vitaliy pointed at Vixen and gave a small shake of his head, as if in warning not to anger him.

Yeah, good idea. Redheads are always quick tempered, John thought. "Vitaliy, hold up," he said before the vampire could vanish indoors. "Why did Adela go with Gala to the factory tonight?"

"Well, that is easy." Vitaliy smiled. "Sometimes, the CEO needs to show up for face value — that and she wants to test the new sample of synthetic blood that Gala told her about."

"Ah, so that is like me testing or sampling a new soft drink?"

Vitaliy winked at the boy. "That would be a great way of viewing it. The more it tastes like natural blood, but without some of the defects, the better it is for the patients it treats and the vampires that enjoy it as a treat. This blood is also for the human youngsters. Adela has always thought of the world as one large picture."

"Damn, so she is what she seems to be."

"That is why you and she need to end this tyrannical rule that we are under."

"Vitaliy, honestly, do you think I stand a chance?"

"Of all the Guardians I have seen before you, I truly believe you stand one hell of a shot. Enough so that I am putting my head on the chopping block right along with you. More than anything, Adela's newfound powers gives you something else the others never had — an ancient at your back." He rubbed his cheek, deep in thought for a second. "I truly believe she has the strength of an ancient well beyond her years."

Once Vitaliy had left them, Vixen looked up at John with worry in her eyes, and he petted her face and ears, hoping to assure her all would be well. She leaned her body up against him and lay on the ground, but more so than Vixen seeming unsettled, John felt something was not right in the air itself. Although he could not put his finger on it, he hoped for it to merely be a storm brewing off in the distance — ultimately not one coming to claim as many victims as it could.

*****

Gala and Adela burled through the city streets in Adela's favorite Aston Martin. The new ancient could control her machine just as well as she could any man. Driving hard into the corners, working the gas, dropping a gear at the last possible moment so the tires just barely held on the road. The real trick was keeping the tires hot and sticky, allowing it to slip, slide and grab hold, and then master control of her stick, clutch, and accelerator. She loved how the engine rumbled through the stick and the vibrations under her bottom through the seat that molded to her tight body.

Adela loved pumping her car in and out of the corners, going fast and sometimes slow, fast, fast, slow and repeating it all over again.

As they ripped into the parking lot, she spun the car around and around for a moment before sliding into her space. Climbing from the car, she texted Gala: We are not alone.

Gala texted back: Are you sure?

Glancing across at her, Adela smiled. She could sense the predator with its blood-stalking nose on their scent, seemed able to pinpoint them straight away as her eyes locked onto somewhere spot out in the shadows. She didn't approach, though, but chose to ignore it and deal with business.

Gala moved close to her as they passed through the hallway. "Is that why you did all the donuts in the parking lot?" she whispered.

"No, dear, I did those because I wanted to. I sensed them as I was backing into the parking spot."

"Are you sure?"

"I am, and it is a monster that is going to be hell to deal with."

The girls straightened their clothes until they represented a CEO and COO of a world-famous pharmaceutical that specialized in synthetic blood and clotting agents for hemophiliacs. The company sold to most of the world's largest hospitals that sought alternatives to the limited and often contaminated blood supply. Adela was very proud of the success the company had had in renovation and finances.

They did the usual meet and greet, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible as the looming threat outside grated on Adela's nerves. She could also feel that Gala was stressing and worrying about John. After what she had recently witnessed from him, Adela felt bad for the lurking monster if it went after John. The male had come along far beyond what she had hoped and knew without a doubt that the one stalking them was not an ancient, but a lower minion that did all the dirty work. Adela also knew that what was immediately coming would only be the first wave, her blood boiled in anticipation of the inevitable fight. She envisioned herself ripping Baldemar's heart out through his chest, just as he did to her poor, poor, sweet Guardian.

As Adela pulled into the castle's drive, she and Gala kept their eyes peeled toward the darkness, trying to pick up on anything out of place or the slightest movement Adela had a lot of familiarity with the tactics likely to be used on her, but with an advantage — because the opposition had no idea what she and John could do, and Adela planned to keep it that way. For the time being, her training with John would be for show only, and she intended to only allow them to see what she wanted them to.

Upstairs in the castle, Gala waved John to follow her into the bathroom, where she ran the bath water for background noise. Leaning in close, she whispered, "We are being tracked. It is imperative that you not show your true strength if they are to be taken by surprised when they attack." At John's nod of understanding, she continued, "Both you and Adela will need to show no more than half of the strengths and abilities you have gained during your training."

For the rest of the night, everyone in the house was on guard, but nobody knew if they would really attack, or if they only intended to spy to gather information? Adela, however, suspected it to be the latter, because she could only sense a few beasts and vamps, none of them of any great power, with their prying eyes on her coven.

Adela smiled at her new senses. She would release her lust for a good old blood fest, just so long as it kept her coven safe.

*******

The scent of cooking woke John. He'd been feeling more starving of late, a constant hunger. Hoping whoever was responsible for the rich and enticing wafts had prepared enough for him to divulge, also, John followed his nose down to the kitchen.

Rounding the corner, his sights fell on Adela. The way she'd tied her hair up into a ponytail made her look like a teenage cheerleader. The skintight black latex shorts she wore molded to and showed off her impeccable body, which more and more caused John huge amounts of temptation — especially with the way she swayed and moved to the music only she could hear, making her seem innocent and erotic all at the same time. With her ear buds in, she continued to rock her hips, side to side, her frame sliding up and down — until John's lust took a dominant front seat. He just hoped she never offered herself to him — because he wasn't sure he'd be able to say no, even if he did love Gala so much.

Adela spun around, her hands flying to her chest as she gasped. Pulling out her ear buds and lowering her arms revealed the perfection of her breasts in the tight blue sports bra she wore, sending John's mind into overdrive. "How long have you been there?" she asked.

"Long enough," John smirked.

She threw a dish towel at him. "Oh, I see. Long enough to get a nice show."

"Hey, I'm not complaining."

She smiled, her devilish blue eyes twinkling. "Maybe someone wants to play?"

"No, no, I was just teasing. I could never leave Gala, you know."

She winked at him and returned to her cooking, as well as the hip and butt action. "I see the Guardian bond is just too strong for little me to break."

"Ah, why would you want to?"

"Oh, I don't. I am just being playful. Unless..." She let out a little giggle. "You need to eat," she said, fidgeting her hips for a little show.

"Ah, maybe I should go upstairs?"

"What, did you take that the wrong way? What a mind on you! I just want to feed you. I really do not think she feeds you enough, but you could come over here and give me a hand."

John set about helping her dice up some vegetables for a salad she was making, and Adela moved across to the stove, where she cooked steak and eggs to go with the salad. It took John a moment to realize it was nighttime and not morning — though, he guessed it was normal for his body clock to be off with the new hours he'd been keeping.

He could barely keep himself from laughing as Adela bopped to music beside him, even occasionally bumping her hip into his. Cute, hot, she was so unlike the person he originally met. He found he loved watching her smile and rock her head to the music as she cooked. The mood in the room made a nice change — because, with Gala, he never knew what to expect.

"Damn," John muttered under his breath as he sliced his finger.

"What," she said, pulling her ear bud out sniffing the air. Before she'd even fully turned, she asked, "How bad is it?"

"Not too bad."

"Let me see"

Adela held his finger inches from her mouth. The cut was small, just a few droplets. Staring at the blood on his finger, she bit her lip. "Let me have a taste."

"Ah, a taste?"

"Yes, just a small taste, and don't worry, I am not like the youngsters." She paused for a second. "I want to see if I have gained the ability to read people's memories through their blood."

"See memories through blood?" John asked, starting to sound like a parrot.

"Yes, some of the ancients can do it."

"Um, I guess." He shrugged his shoulders. "You can try, but will it hurt me?"

She shook her head and took his finger into her mouth. Her eyes closed as she sucked on his finger, and as her tongue toyed with his flesh, John's arousal grew.

If she made his finger feel like that, what else could she do with that amazing mouth?

She continued to suck for a few more seconds, and after sliding it in and out a few times pulled it out and kissed it on the tip. "See? All better now."

"You are incredibly devilish."

"Well, thank you. But the sad thing is that I can't see memories, and I was really hoping to."

"Why is it so important?"

"I want to know the truth about a few things and know our origins."

"So, you would need to feed on an ancient?"

"That was the idea, but I have more bad news for you."

"What's that?"

"I now know how good you taste," she said, smacking him on the ass with a dish towel.

As she started to run away, John took the bait and chased right after her. She giggled and squealed as he chased her around the kitchen. When he grabbed her waist, she turned a one-eighty and, somehow, ended up with her back to the center island. Her hands went around his neck, and John lifted her and sat her rump on the counter. Both holding onto the other, they stared into one another's eyes, and John sensed her yearning as strongly as he felt his own.

In a moment of conscience, John pulled back. "Stop. Gala, I can't."

He'd barely moved when Adela pulled him back and stole a kiss. She held him close, meeting his eye as she whispered, "She doesn't see what she has to you. You are not only a powerful man but a true and endearing one." She shook her head. "I wish your Guardian bond was with me instead of her."

Adela bounced off of the counter and motioned for him to take a seat. "John, I know that, lately, I've been acting like a lustful, young girl, but you need to know that you and I are getting ready to fight a really serious war. These men are going to perform any low trick they can to win. That is how they always win."

As she was shimmied away with that incredible strut of hers, John watched her. I would love to play war with her.

"I tried, silly, and you stopped me."

It took John a second to realize she'd just read his mind. We could communicate and no one would know.

"Ah," she replied. "Well, you could to me, whereas I couldn't let you know anything other than by body language. But keep in mind that another ancient may have the same ability."

"How would I fight a beast that could read my thoughts?"

"Shut them out, like you do with me when we are fighting."

"I shut you out?"

"Yes, you do." she grabbed her and his plates and set them down onto the table.

After she sat, she picked up her utensils but paused. "You do know your biggest weakness, don't you?" she asked John.

"Ah, are you going to try and be funny?"

"Sadly, not at all, I am about to let you hear something that you may not want to hear. Gala is your biggest weakness."

"Oh, don't start with this, I love her and..."

"Listen to me," she said, gripping her fork tighter. "It has been the same for every Guardian. If they get their hands on her, then we are done. They did it to my Guardian, and as far as we have learned, it is also how they ended all the others."

John straightened in his seat, not liking the idea of that at all — because it meant Gala would be their number one target and not him. How could he live with that? Why hadn't he considered it before? He knew Adela was coming from the heart and not just trying to cut into his relationship.

Once it had sunk in, he asked, "What do we do about it?"

"You don't worry and think she abandoned you when she runs. I have given instruction to her, to find the best hiding spot and to stay there. John, none of the others know because I do not trust anyone other than Gala and Vitaliy."

"Gala doesn't really talk much about the coven to me, so I have no idea about anyone. I thought she was keeping me away from them, so I wasn't a tasty temptation to them."

"Funny you say that because you have called me a tasty temptation a few times in your mind."

"That's not fair."

She stuck her tongue out and continued with, "I'll be your T.T. if you'll be my T.T."

"Wow! That sounds wrong and dirty in so many ways."

"Eat up, we have to go do a few things today. And, John? If she is not with me, she needs to be with you. The storm is brewing."

The night seemed strange in every way imaginable. The animals were restless, some of the younger coven had decided to go out to the city in a group, Vitaliy was walking around the house in search of places of entry, and Adela just seemed a little too happy.

Maybe she is looking forward to this bout, John thought. Maybe it has been a long time coming for her.

Gala was in her room, reading like she liked to do sometimes. He'd learned that she did not like to be bothered when reading lately. Before, she would have gladly put down the book for a few moments to talk to John, but of late, she had become edgy with him.

He really did not know how he could make her happy. The more he bent to her whims, the more she seemed unhappy and acted disrespectfully toward him.

Studying the sky above, John pondered over the meaning of life. If there was one, why was it all so crazy, instead of simpler? Who'd have known a world with humans, werewolves, vampires, and Guardians existed?

As the night drew on, with little disturbance, Adela began to suspect they were merely being observed — that the attack would not happen until they had gathered more information about the coven. After all, greater knowledge would ensure an easier victory. However, Adela also had a few secrets up her sleeves — ones she no intention of letting out.

# Longing for a Bout

The more Adela longed for a bout against the soon-to-be attackers, the more her impatience showed. She had even begun taking it out on Vitaliy, who let it go for the most part because he understood her thoughts.

"Adela?" Vitaliy called.

"Yes"

"I need to speak to you about some pressing items."

"You mean the eminent attack?"

"Well, yes, but also about the way you are making everyone nervous with your sexual behavior. My lady, you are making John stressed. It might cause trouble with Gala."

"That is what I am trying for. She needs to be a little jealous. Maybe then, she will treat him better."

"You know that the Guardian bond will tear him apart and kill him if something happens."

"Yes, I do know that. Damn, of all of the abilities I've gained, I wish I had the ability to be the vampire of their Guardian bond. I am so afraid she is going to screw this up."

"I know the other vampires' ideas put a lot of stress on her. It is beyond me why she doesn't realize they are only being hateful toward her. It's plain to see that he would do anything for her."

"I know, and it is hard because her family and friends did the same thing when she was human. Which is why I changed her, to try and give her a life. You know, that girl was like a cleaning slave to her family, and once she found love, they made it so hard on her that she ditched him."

"No surprise, with the way she acts towards John. What happened to him?"

"He tried to fix things, until one day he ended himself, and she took it hard."

"He did what?"

"I bore witness to his pain when I gave him the chance for eternal life, he asked me to take care of her, because, without her, his heart hurt too much. There was no Guardian bond, but he loved her just as strongly, I believe." Crossing the room, Adela wrapped her arms around Vitaliy. "If there are two or more ancients on this attack, you need to protect Gala with everything you have. I need to help John."

Vitaliy pulled her close, concerned by the goodbye in her voice and expression. "Adela, you aren't going to die."

"Oh, I hope not. But, just in case, I want you to know I appreciate you, and our relationship throughout the years."

********

"Listen, John," Gala whispered to John in the darkness of her room. "I am sorry that I have been treating you this way." He raised his eyebrows in question, and she continued with, "I guess it is from all the people earlier in my life, telling me it was wrong to be with someone other than my own kind."

She took him by the hand and led him to the moonlit windowsill. Once he'd settled there, she clasped his hands and touched his cheek. "You really are the only man that can deal with me." She kissed him softly. "I realize that you really love me, and I am just dealing with issues from when I was human. I had a boyfriend and I got rid of him so that I did not have to deal with people saying things to me, because he was from another country. You remind me of him, and I guess I feel guilty for hurting him, and you, so bad."

John pulled her close and began to kiss her tender lips, staring into her wide eyes he adored so much. The kiss was long, deep and passionate, sinking them both into what seemed like a different universe where no one could disturb them. He ran his hand through her hair, placed his other behind her waist. "I am here only for you."

If his words hadn't told her, the beat of his heart, the feel of his touch, confirmed that he only wanted to take care of her and make her happy. She, too, drew closer to him, bringing him back in, and the brilliant blaze of passion quickly erupted between them — not of the lustful and animalistic kind, but pure unbridled passion bore of complete love that very few souls experienced in their entire lives.

As they kissed, they ran their hands over each other, their way of saying I love you and I want you all in the same heartbeat. It seemed to them that the Guardian bond was not the only thing drawing them together, as it was as if ordained by a higher power.

Reaching down for the bottom edges of his shirt, Gala scrambled to get a grip and lifted it up to show his chiseled body, the sight of it making her even hotter. He followed suit and tugged at hers, and she raised her arms, allowing the exit he needed for her shirt, leaving only her pink leopard-print bra to conceal her breasts from him.

He scooped her up in his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, allowing him to reach behind and unhinge the clips. The bra fell loose, and she liberated her breasts for him to gaze upon, her nipples pert and ready.

Kissing her long, soft neck, John drank in her intoxicating scent that drove him into lustful, lecherous, madness and engulfed his already overdriven sexual desire. She tipped her head back, allowing more access, and John kissed, licked, and nibbled on her ear, smiling inwardly at the groans she made in response. He nibbled there harder, his hot breath teasing her ears, and she moaned and pressed her groin against his, like a cowgirl riding a bull.

His hand dug into her buttocks, rubbing and massaging, causing her to become even wetter and yearning for his manhood inside of her.

Their breaths were heavy, but both fought to suppress their longing, to prolong the ravenous, sexual fest they would surely too soon indulge in.

Holding her tighter, he kissed his way down towards her chest, and she stretched back, lifting her perky and fully rounded nipples upward. She longed for his warm breaths, his tongue, and his teasing teeth upon them. She had not felt such a need and want for a man since she was human.

John carried her to the bed and flipped her onto her hands and knees. Standing behind her, he reached around and undid her jeans. In response, her place of lust lit up and became even wetter, craving his penetration. She whimpered when he ripped her pants off only, leaving her panties behind. He paused for a moment to admire the view, before reaching between her legs and teased the already wet mound through her saturated underwear, while his other hand on her perfectly-shaped hind. After teasing along the edges of her underwear, he slid a hand beneath the fabric, seeking out her moisture, and as he dipped his fingertips, just a little, she gasped and jerked her hips.

Biting her lip, she grabbed onto the sheets, craving for him to tear the cloth hindering her body from being free to his unhindered touch. She groaned in her need to feel his hips up against her and him inside of her.

He moved her panties aside and, after a moment of cool air hitting her, his tongue moved in, the first lick sending her eyes rolling upward. She lunged forward and pushed back, tilting her rump into the air. "Please, please, just give it to me," she begged. "I can't handle anymore."

She rocked her hips back and forth and whimpered. She wanted nothing more than to be bored deeply into with lots of drive and force.

His hands grasped her hips and he flipped over onto her back, before reaching for the tops of her panties and pulling them down her legs.

Oh, god, yes, please give me what I want.

He slid his palms to the tops of her thighs and pulled her closer he dipped down and caressed her inner thigh with his lips and tongue.

He kissed his way down her leg, pausing to give attention to the back of her knee — a weakness of hers. She moaned as he licked and kissed the sensitive area, and could not believe how much like her human lover he was.

Rolling her over again exposed her backside to him. He teased with his teeth, lips, and tongue along the back of her thigh while his palm caressed it. When he reached her cheeks, he kissed, licked, and nibbled one, his hand rubbing the other, before switching.

She swayed on all fours, as he teased and pleased all of her sensitive spots. His lips traveled over the small of her back, and his hands massaged as he moved higher, tingling her spine until he reached the back of her neck. His package bumped up against her, and she let out a whimper of craving. He kissed her neck, and as his tongue swept up toward her ear, he stretched around and cupped her breasts, manipulating them just the way she liked.

As he skimmed his way back down her spine, his hands ran down her front, tweaking and teasing, and she wiggled in enjoyment. Circling an arm around her waist to lift her, he guided himself into her. As she moaned in delight, he grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling back as he thrust fully into her, shifting his hips in a side to side dance, which she matched, creating a dance of ecstasy and lust.

Grasping one of her legs, he flipped her around until half on her back and half off, and lifting that one leg high, he drove into her from an angle that rubbed her sides and sent her into a moaning fit. As he released her leg, she drew both knees up to her shoulders, giving him full access, and he grabbed her ass for traction, enjoying the feel of her rump in his hands.

Leaning over her, John stared hard into her eyes as he kissed her, linking them further still during their moment of heaven. Gala rocked against him even, with her knees locked at her shoulders, each tilt of her hips an erotic movement that steamed them both.

Pushing back up, he took her hips and encouraged her back onto all fours. As she pushed upward, John tore into her as he knew she wanted. The moment seemed to have no bounds. Their breaths panted from them.

A growl began brewing within John's chest, one so deep it vibrated through his body and against Gala's mound. As the growl roared from him, he released himself into her, meeting her own explosion she voiced with a scream.

Collapsing to the sheets, she rolled, panting, enough to see him... "I love you, I love you, I really love you."

John's heart leaped for joy at the words — for it was the first time she had spoken them to him since they had come together.

# Vixen's Visit

The wind that night was chilly, even for that time of the year. Clouds hid the moon on its second night, a full twenty-four hours since they had felt the presence following them.

As he dressed, John couldn't help but wonder if the girls had overreacted at nothing, if they'd gotten spooked by a dark parking lot. Surely, if there was something out there, the wolves would have spotted it and notified the coven.

Beside him, Gala also drew on clothes in preparation for going downstairs. She tossed him his black hoody to shield from what they suspected would be a cold hard night. She had dressed in her skintight black outfit, one that screamed both hot and scary at the same time. John loved her in that outfit.

She reached out for his hand and led him out the door and down the hallway. Their love making earlier had eaten into some of the night.

John squeezed her hand a little as if to say I love you, and she returned the gesture. The small ways in which she revealed her feelings toward him made up for the times she didn't voice it.

The sounds of the coven chattering downstairs about the nightly events drifted out. The coven was a bit thinner in numbers than it had been. Apparently, some of them had heeded Adela's warning of an up and coming war and made themselves sparse.

Gala and John descended the staircase together, still holding hands as they passed the coven members. John no longer seemed to be the focal point of conversation anymore, as if they had grown bored of discussing him.

As John opened the castle door for Gala to enter through, they found Vixen on the other side in wolf form. With a snarl, she jumped at John. Gala attempted to ward her off, but Vixen bit down on Gala's wrist. Though she didn't break the skin, Gala's fury swirled.

Vixen stared hard as Gala, her eyes seeming to say, please just listen to me. Tugging on Gala's wrist, she pulled her back through the doorway into the castle, and John followed.

The coven erupted as they voiced their concerns, their alarm.

From out of the shadows, Adela's commanding voice rose. "What is going on here?"

"It's Vixen," Gala told her, "and she seems startled by something. But it's the full moon so she is trapped as a wolf."

Adela headed over to Vixen and laid her hands on her head to read her mind.

Vixen's thoughts rang loud and clear: Adela, the pack have been slaughtered by something. I was told to run and warn you and your coven that...

The sound of glass breaking came from the direction of the kitchen.

Adela flung her arms up, silently ordering everyone to get in place. Bending down to Vixen, she said, "Go with Gala and protect her with everything you have. If they kill her, he loses his powers."

Vixen nodded her head but looked toward Gala as if to ask Where are we supposed to go?

Gala led the way towards the hiding place Adela and Vitaliy had created for her. On the way, she ran into Vitaliy, who grabbed her by the hand and tried hurrying her along.

"When you reach the hiding place," he told Vixen, "you must lay on Gala and to try and hide her scent from whatever's attacking."

Adela turned to John. "I believe this is what we have been training for." She cocked her head, her tone more serious than Adela's of late.

John rolled his shoulders back and cracked his. Game time.

Screams of pain rang out from some coven members, but Adela and John remained in the main entrance as planned. John's eyes began to glow green, and his body seemed to be gaining mass as they stood to wait.

Already in her training clothes, Adela bounced on the balls of her feet, as if in anticipation of the attack for which she had been yearning. She looked over and smiled at him. "This is going to be a piece of cake, love." Her wink offered a sense of comfort.

"We'll see, we'll see." John seemed confident but levelheaded about the matter. He knew to lose focus could cost them all of their lives. That was not an option.

One of the youngest of the coven was tossed off of the top of the balcony. They crashed to the floor as the doors below the balcony blasted open.

A werewolf emerged through the opening, but not one of the pack — no, Adela recognized him as Baldemar's beast from hell that he'd used to turn her friends and her father's peasants into werewolves. Larger than any other werewolf she saw at ten feet tall, it had a matted, ugly coat, his stench made her want to hurl, and his clouded eye was enough to spook anyone.

Growling, it headed straight towards John, and John was more than pleased to oblige him in meeting halfway.

Both of them ran faster towards each other, and as the beast flung it massive claws at John, John swung a roundhouse to the back of its head, stunning it for a moment. As the beast stared at John in confusion, John hunkered down and sent it a smug smile.

With John taking care of the wolf, Adela jumped to the top of the stairs in search of who threw the body one of her youngsters, surprised when she found Vlad, an ancient because the wolf did not belong to him; it was definitely Baldemar's.

"So, the boss is having you do his dirty work, I see," Adela said, placing her hands on her hips.

"Nah, he just thought a little sexpot like yourself wouldn't be worth coming out for, so he asked me to take care of the light work." His smirk turned Adela's stomach.

"Oh, I have some surprises for you," she said.

"Why, you have learned some new positions in bed throughout the years?"

"Not that you would ever find out."

Down on the lower floor, John and the big ugly tore up the castle. The more John played with the wolf, the more pissed it grew.

The doorway beside them had been torn to shambles from the beast, and through it stepped another ancient. Known as Jasper, he was from Europe — folk knew little about him, other than that he loved to torture his victims for hours on end.

Catching John off-guard, he knocked him about the head, sending him flying across the room.

John picked himself up and dusted himself off. Big ugly first. Then it would be Jasper's turn.

Upstairs, Adela and Vlad knocked each other through walls, and tore doors off hinges, using them as projectiles and sometimes as a bat to hit the other one with.

Vlad seemed both surprised and confused by Adela's strength and speed. Even if she was an ancient, he, too, was one of the elders. She should not have been such an overwhelming adversary.

The two of them bounced from one side of the hallway to the other, and sometimes through the walls, creating new hallways and doors in their attempts to kill each other.

Adela tore at the vamp so fast, there was no time for exchange of words — she wanted him dead as soon as possible. Though the level of enjoyment she seemed to be gaining from the battle left her challenger worried — such pleasure was not a natural evolvement for their kind.

Up against both Jasper and the dog, John seemed to be warding off more blows from the vampire, each of their strikes seeming to mostly bump the mutt out of the way.

The more it got shunted, the more pissed off the wolf became. It had fought for years and had never once before been made to feel like a joke in a combat situation.

Jasper's method resembled that of an English style boxer. John did his best to duck his blows and land his own, but the vampire guy was no joke at all. Bobbing and weaving, John tried to land a hit on him hard enough to knock him back and give him time to kill the fleabag slowing him down.

Biding his time, John waited, and when Jasper swung a left hook, he rolled to the side on the balls of his feet, grabbing Jasper's left wrist. Continuing to pull, he stepped down with his left foot and hauled Jasper off-center, before swooping around, switching hands, and flipping Jasper up into the air and down onto the floor in one big slam.

The beast chose that moment to bite at John, and John grabbed its upper Jaw in one hand, and the lower in the other, and spread them apart as fast and hard as he could. Its jawbone cracked as he unhinged the wolf's jaw and snapped the top of its head off the body. The body melted to the floor, the beast done.

Adela grabbed Vlad in a chokehold. She had the upper hand until a demonic sound rose from his innards and he reached back, grabbing her by the back of the head. He slammed her down in front of him and followed through with a punch to the throat, causing her to gasp and fight for air.

She grabbed him by the cuff of his shirt and flipped back up, kicking him in the face, and as she landed, she spun around with a roundhouse that knocked him clear to the end of the hall. As he shot backward through the window, she chased after him.

As Jasper's punches and jabs knocked John back a little more with each one, John hoped Adela was winning and would be back soon. He also worried for Gala, because he had no idea where she was even hiding. Luckily, even as Jasper beat the hell out of him, John held his own. Jasper seemed to have learned from the slam to the floor to not give John too much of a chance. John was stronger, but Jasper was a bit quicker, making the fight interesting — and, although Jasper was not used to feeling pain during a fight, his bones ached for the first time since becoming a vampire, which had happened before even Christ's time.

As far as anyone knew, Baldemar was the eldest, but there were rumors that he was just the puppet or front man for the originals, just a lure. No one had ever proven it to be true nor untrue. Since Vampire History was never questioned or taught and speaking of it was punishable by the pain of death, few ever discussed it except in dark corners in the hope of not to get caught.

In the backyard, Adela tried to find where Vlad had run off to but stalled upon finding some of her coven and her wolf friend lying dead at the border of the woods. It seemed they had tried to fight them off or had been coming to warn them. Heads had been tossed aside from the bodies.

The work reminded Adela of the work of Baldemar, and she wondered if he was somewhere close by, but first, where was Vlad.

John threw a beating at Jasper and pinned him to the ground, where he pounded on him until Jasper regained himself and threw John against the wall.

As soon as he shook off the what the hell feeling, he noticed another vampire — Vlad — slipping in from the kitchen to join Jasper.

John closed his eyes and, growling, opened them to reveal their glow. His muscle mass seemed to be expanding even further.

Neither of the vampires had ever seen a Guardian do that before, and both of them had killed a handful of them throughout the years.

Thrusting himself forward, John moved faster, hitting even harder to accommodate handling them both. It was not a one-sided fight by a long shot — they both had moments in which they got the better of John until, out of some magical place, he again gained more strength.

"Where is Baldemar?" Vlad asked Jasper. "This would be over already if he was here."

"Damned if I know. He was supposed to be on my heels, but when I spun around he was gone, completely broke off from the plan."

As the duo of vampires upped their game again, John started to tucker out. With every fleeting moment, he felt more and more drained, but he had to keep going for the sake of his loved one.

The vampires circled him and, in one swoop, jumped at him.

As John grabbed Jasper by the neck, Adela gave Vlad a surprise right hook to the bottom of his jaw, which sent him spinning. She used her flash speed and followed up with twenty or thirty punches until she gave him one that launched him through the door and out onto the drive.

John slammed his victim into the concrete at their feet, creating a crack in the solid floor, and repeated the slamming a few times.

Jasper had only ever felt so helpless to Baldemar and did not know what to do.

John heaved him up onto the balcony. Jasper pushed to his feet only to be greeted by John's boot to his face. He flipped backward through the air and slammed into the wall over the doorway, from where he slid downward to the floor like an undercooked noodle.

John and Adela fighting near each other seemed to have resulted in them drawing off each other's strengths — something that had never been seen with an ancient and a Guardian before.

At the top of the stairs, a demon of a man appeared and pointed at John. "You!" he screamed. He had Gala by the throat. "You two deal with Adela," he said to the other vampires as they dragged themselves back toward Adela and John. "The Guardian was just giving me his life."

Adela hung her head. Baldemar had somehow found Gala and probably killed her Vitaliy in the process. She looked at John, hoping for a miracle, but knew it was not in the cards.

The two vamps lunged at Adela, blasting her out the door to fight with her out in the drive, leaving Baldemar to deal with their Guardian problem.

Baldemar stood all tall and proud, a true giant of a man, even bigger than his pet that John had killed earlier. He held Gala in a chokehold in one of his massive hands. "Step forward and kneel, boy," He whistled and another vampire John hadn't seen before stepped through the shadows of the bottom doorway. "We are going to watch you die together, and my little friend here is going to tear your head off.

John took a step forward. "My love," he said to Gala, "how strong is our bond?" He kneeled and, as he did so, Gala fell limp.

Baldemar laughed. "Seems she fainted, probably thinking of what was coming." He shook her, trying to get her to respond, but to his disbelief, when she lifted her head, he felt her body heating up with some kind of weird energy. As her eyes opened, they shone with the green glow of the Guardian.

Gala hit him in the throat and pushed him off the balcony, as John had directed her to do when he focused all his power on her. He then told her to run, to run as fast as she could to safety, so he could take back his powers.

"What the hell!" Baldemar roared, before shrugging. "Doesn't matter. You are going to die, son."

A demonic growling came from John, deep and dark like a wolf from hell. John slammed his fist into the ground, cracking the cement, and looked up, showing off his bright yellow wolf eyes. As he stood, his body transformed, cracking and popping, and he stared at Baldemar as if he considered his food.

Baldemar swung at him fast, hoping to knock him out before he could change.

John growled and foaming at the mouth as he took the blow that sent him onto his ass. As he protected his injured ribs with a crooked arm, John knew he could not handle many blows like that from the demon. He jumped up, grabbing Baldemar at the same time that the vampire grabbed him, and a power struggle commences, one that John was losing as Baldemar punched him repeatedly in the ribs.

Gala made it out into the woods, where John instructed her to go, and ran toward a little cave he had found the one day he was training and considered a great place for her to duck into.

"I hate all you Guardians," Baldemar spat.

"Why is that?"

"You should not be! We are the supreme race."

Feeling that Gala was safe, John allowed his concentration to return fully to the room. The amount of control he'd needed in order to lend her his powers had drained him. The ancient Guardians had spoken to him during his gift of power to Gala — he'd apparently prove his worth for the sharing of secrets — and he understood it better now. Guardians were a race of their own, bred purely for the purpose of protecting the ones they love.

Even with his Guardian powers in full swing, John got slammed and tossed around by Baldemar like he was a toy. The vampire came at him with hits, kicks, and tricks, as if nothing phased the monster at all.

A sudden sharp pain stung John's neck as he scrambled up from being tossed by Baldemar. Adela.

She was weak and needed strength but had rejoined him.

"I am only taking a bit," she whispered. "We need to take him apart together." She kissed him on the cheek. "Let's kill the ugly thing."

It seemed no matter what John and Adela dished out to Baldemar, he still managed to fling them around like flies. They tried their drills that they had practiced, but he was just too much — flicking them each in different directions, and laughing as he did so, taking obvious pleasure from seeing them suffer.

Baldemar hit John, sending him flipping head over foot, and as he landed out in the drive, he grabbed Adela by the throat. "After all of these years, I am going to finally have my way with you before I kill you. And then I am going to let my dog have his way with your corpse."

Fear and disgust filled her, as she thought about the terrible ending he had planned. Anything she'd endured in the past would be nothing like what was coming. The raping would last for months, not hours or days, meant to make her suffer. He would make her a sex slave to his demons and vampires, maybe pass her around to an animal or two, for his amusement. He was the darkest and ugliest being she knew.

As her fear grew, so did another feeling — as if she could sense John outside, transforming and gaining strength. What did it mean? John's emotions and thoughts seemed to be seeping through Adela. His memories, his fears, and his confusion over his love for Gala, as well as his feelings for Adela. His guilt, but over what, she knew not. The more she became aware of him, the more she sensed him becoming aware of her. Could it be? Could it be that his Guardian bond belonged to two women, or was it really hers all along?

Something grasped Baldemar from behind, and he was heaved up before being slammed him into the ground with the force of a power driver.

John stood in Baldemar's vacated spot and took Adela by the hand. "I've got a beating to dish out, so please step aside." He winked as he helped her to stand up. "I think I got some of your flirt along with some of your power."

His feet left the ground, Adela's fingers slipped from his grasp, and when hovering three feet in the air, a punch hit his kidneys. John hurdled towards the wall and slammed through it, through the rose bushes, and landed out in the yard. Pushing back up, he shook the cement from his hair and face and was brushing himself off when he was launched back through the house and into the wall, where he stuck.

The giant of a vampire tore him back out, with his hand gripping so hard that John's neck cracked.

Adela stared in horror at the beating being given to John, and as an overwhelming sense of love for him swamped her, she knew it hadn't been only her change making her so flirty with him. She actually loved him. She cried uncontrollably as she watched him get torn to pieces. Body shaking, she had no idea what to do.

"Stop!" she cried. "For the love of God, stop! Please don't hurt him anymore."

"Do you really think I let slip a chance like this to torture a living being? He could live for days, possibly. Do you know how much fun that would be?"

"Please, I will do whatever you want, whenever you want — just don't hurt him," Adela cried.

"Hmm, no. I want to rip him from limb to limb. And then I will do whatever I want to you." He gave an evil grin. "No one has a say but me."

"I think you might be a little wrong there, Jack." John grabbed Baldemar by the arm and jabbed him in the throat. His Guardian's eyes glowed stronger than ever and he seemed to omit a green aura around him, as he snap-kicked the demon vampire in the face as if Adela had grown strong enough for him to call on her power. "You know, dick, you have messed with a lot of people, and that ends tonight."

"I would love to see you try, boy."

"Oh, this Guardian is going to rip you apart."

"I have killed all those who came before you, and I will kill you, as well."

They ran towards each other, grabbing one another's nape of the neck and each slamming the other into the ground — as if evenly matched.

John leaped to his feet first and, taking Baldemar by the hair, started ramming his knee into his face over and over again. With one final slam, he knocked Baldemar end over end through the air.

As Baldemar started to climb to his feet, John kicked him in the teeth. Before he'd fully landed from the blow, John raced forth and hit Baldemar in the face, sending him spinning in the other direction. Punch after punch, John beat on the dark vampire, until, somehow sensing the right moment to do so, he drove a hand into Baldemar's chest and hauled out his black, still-beating heart. Handing it to Adela, he allowed her the honor of smashing it to bits underfoot.

Adela leaped into his arms and held on for dear life, crying out of joy and remorse, unsure what to feel. She kissed John, regretting the choice he would have to make — sensing the breaking of his heart breaking their connection. Just as she felt his confusion — because although he loved his woman, her moods drove him crazy.

Kissing him softly, Adela said, "Honey, I love you and want you to take your time in deciding."

John held her in his arms. She tried to pull him closer. They stared into each other's eyes, both seeming to know what the other wanted.

A throat clearing interrupted them. "Looks like some choices need to be made!"

John turned to see Gala standing there. "No, honey, it's not what it..."

Gala stormed out before he could finish, and John knew he had a long road ahead of him.
