Twilight Guardian

  Not even the Goddess can save him…but maybe love can.

  Children of the Goddess, Book 3

  A Sariel guard, Kit has spent centuries fulfilling his people’s oath to protect the Trueblood Clan. Not Vampire, not Were, and certainly not human, Kit is something altogether…different. And when he is called back home to honor his obligations one last time, he can do none other than obey.

  Jesse experiences life behind the lens of a camera. The only time she truly lives is in her dreams. For years she’s imagined a world filled with werewolves, vampires, magic. And him. When she realizes that not only is her dream world real, but the giant of her fantasies is in danger, she’ll have to jump in with both feet, and trust her heart. In Kit’s arms, she learns love is as infinite as time.

  But so is a bitter god’s thirst for vengeance.

  After a thousand years of duty, Jesse’s love is a gift from the Goddess. But for Kit, it might have come too late…

  Warning: Spanking, exhibitionism, giants being kinky…just good wholesome fun.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Twilight Guardian

  Copyright © 2009 by R. G. Alexander

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-529-0

  Edited by Bethany Morgan

  Cover by Anne Cain

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: May 2009

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Twilight Guardian

  R. G. Alexander

  Dedication

  To Cookie—Love is the reason.

  Many thanks to my supportive family, all the divas, and my beloved smutketeers Eden Bradley, Lilli Feisty and Crystal Jordan. Also Anne Cain, whose artistry has brought my characters to life in ways even I could not imagine.

  Finally, Beth. You are, without a doubt, the best editor and friend anyone could ask for. Thank you.

  Chapter One

  A cloak of purple and blue descended over the mountainside, blanketing the world in shadowy twilight. His people knew these shadows well. They’d lived in them for millennia, guarding the Trueblood Mediator and his clan from harm. Honoring a debt to those who’d saved them from wandering the Earth as ghosts. Alone.

  It was here, in the ’tween time, where Kit found peace. It wouldn’t last long, but while it did he savored it. It was the only time he allowed himself to dream of a different kind of life. Personal dreams that weren’t about duty and honor, obedience and loss. Though since he’d seen both his charges happily matched and mated, those dreams had become decidedly less satisfying. And far too short.

  He walked the perimeter of both Were and Unborn lands, smiling in approval at the stealthy stalking of the young Weres guarding their property lines. He’d helped train them at their Alpha, Arygon Dydarren’s request. They were good warriors, but even with their keen senses they never knew Kit was there. And that was as it should be.

  The sky began its fade to black, throwing the stars into bright, twinkling relief. As it did he watched while his recent bedroom companion took off for parts unknown.

  Elizabeth. He could only hope she would be all right. This had been coming for weeks, so he hadn’t been surprised when she’d told him she was leaving during the last moonrise. It was the why that had confused him.

  Kit had been sure all that had happened would satisfy her. That forcing peace between Unborn and Trueblood, Vampire and Were was the reason she’d changed Regina and created most of her clan in the first place. But since Sylvain and Arygon had started unifying all the scattered packs of Were on the nearby Dydarren lands, Liz seemed haunted. Nothing he did could calm her.

  The last straw had been when word came from the elder Truebloods that they were offering a seat on the Clan Trust to a representative from the Deva Clan. The times had definitely changed.

  To say Liz was disturbed by the information was an understatement. “Nicolette can have ’em. The last thing I want to do for the next hundred years is deal with those pompous, pigheaded prigs. Aye, I’ve had enough of that, and them, to last me twelve lifetimes.”

  Kit recalled chuckling at her accent, knowing it only slipped out when she was upset. He’d folded his arms across his chest, watching her flit around the room like an agitated butterfly. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. I don’t get it, Lizzy. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

  “Is it what you want? To be a warrior without an enemy to battle? No more than a glorified doorman when you are capable of so much more?” She looked stricken by her own words, stepping closer to caress his calf apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

  She reached past where he was reclining on the bed to grab her husband’s dagger from its perch and placed it in her travel bag, blowing the red curls away from her face with a frustrated sigh. “It’s what Mal wanted. Now…now I don’t know.”

  The tough as nails, leather clad vampire had suddenly looked…lost. He’d had sex with the firebrand more times than he could count during these last few months. As soon as he’d arrived, escorting Lux and his two Were lovers to the safety of Unborn land, he’d actively pursued her. Who could blame him? She was vibrant and beautiful and had no desire to settle down with any man. He’d known her nearly as long as he’d been assigned to the Sariels, known her when she was newly married, newly Unborn. But last night had been the first time he’d seen her so vulnerable.

  At last he had understood what was wrong. She’d been living for this all these years, for someone else’s vision. Without that guiding her, she was rudderless. And there had been nothing he could do to help her, nothing that would ease her heart.

  Though she hadn’t been his true grathita, his blood mate, Liz still loved her husband—the late, great Malcolm Abaddon. Even if he had wanted to, Kit couldn’t compete with a long dead hero.

  He sat on his favorite tree stump in view of the castle, watching the lights of Elizabeth’s small, private jet disappear. She’d been right. He was a Sariel guard. A warrior. If these alliances proved successful, and he believed they would, his job would become ornamental at best. Hadn’t it already during his time at Lago Maggiore? Perhaps that was why he’d grown dissatisfied.

  He was getting soft. Master Elam, his uncle and the man who had trained him to be the Mediator’s guard, had always said a warrior’s greatest enemy was to have too much time on his hands.

  As for Elizabeth, he prayed that the Mother would watch over her and lead her to her true path. If anyone deserved to find happiness, it was Liz. And that included finding a man who only thought of her when she was in his arms and not another redhead. One who, unfortunately, didn’t even exist outside Kit’s fertile imagination.

  His angel. Sarasvatti. His own personal, perfect creation. He’d started dreaming about her around twenty years ago. She was a funny little hellion then. A child who would randomly appear in his dreams of blood and battle, demanding he protect her from the images wandering through his mind.

  He’d dubbed her his guardian angel, because her presence took away the nightmares and replaced them with laughter and a child’s acceptance of the unexplained. She wa
s never intimidated by his size or abilities.

  All too quickly she’d grown. Up and out in ways that were impossible for him to ignore. He was never sure why he’d dreamt of a fragile human female. Maybe it was a fatal flaw in his makeup, this constant predilection for impossible situations. And she was the most impossible of all.

  Kit closed his eyes as his thoughts drifted in her direction. He reached out with his mind, trying to conjure her image.

  She came out into the clearing, batting away the branches that snagged on her blue nightshirt. A football jersey, she’d called it. He’d seen it often over the years, watching in delight as it grew tighter across her abundant breasts. And though the lettering had faded and there were holes around the collar, she hadn’t thrown it away. He could only be grateful. No lingerie could be more enticing. In Kit’s opinion, it was sexy as hell.

  “Sarasvatti. Angel. You have come.”

  Her fingers tugged her shirt as low as it would go, which was just beneath the skimpy lace shorts riding high on the smooth, pale curves of her ass. She rolled her eyes as if realizing the pointlessness of her labors. “I was in the neighborhood.”

  A sound of pure happiness escaped his lips. “Ah, I’ve missed you.” He hadn’t dreamt of her in months, not since he’d been with Liz. He’d thought about her more than he wanted to admit, even to himself. There was no honor in acknowledging how often he’d closed his eyes and saw her crying out his name in ecstasy, instead of the flesh and blood woman in his arms. He liked to think it was his sense of right and wrong that had ended these dreamtime sojourns, but he knew it was guilt. Guilt for being unfaithful, not to Liz, but to a figment of his imagination.

  She looked away, toward the castle in the distance. “You’ve missed me? I guess she’s gone then. Did the pretty Unborn dump you? Leave you for a shorter supernatural being? A munchkin or a leprechaun or something?” Though she tried to sound merely curious, he could hear the hurt in her voice.

  Knowing he’d caused her pain made him ache. She was the light to his dark existence. Strange though it seemed, she made him real. Kit couldn’t let her maintain her distance, even if it was only for show. He wanted her passion. Wanted her to burn the way he did each time she was near.

  He reached out, lightning swift to catch the hem of her shirt, tearing it up the center and tumbling her onto his lap before he answered. “She’s gone. There’s no room for pretence here, my angel. Not between us. Be angry with me or forgive me my imperfections, but these dreams are far too short to waste on icy pleasantries.”

  Her features softened, lips quirking as she sifted her fingers through the shreds of her tattered shirt. “I should be angry. It doesn’t do a lot for my self-confidence when my dream man has a torrid affair with another woman. I should make you suffer a little. But… I’ve missed you too.”

  Kit slid his fingers between her curvaceous thighs, easily rending the webbed lace that separated him from her heat. “Oh I’ve suffered, angel.” His thumb circled her clit while his palm cupped her sex, already wet with excitement. He loved how responsive she’d always been to him, more than matching his need with her own.

  He slid one thick finger inside her, feeling her muscles tighten around him, the gush of her arousal easing his way. He growled. “Believe me, I’ve suffered.” She shifted on his lap, her fingers wrapping around his forearm, hips arching against his hand.

  “Yes. Show me how you need me. How badly you want it.” She bit her lip at his words, her body writhing on his lap as he added another long finger, stretching her tight pussy with his thrusts.

  Goddess, she was amazing. From the fiery curtain of hair falling down her back to her curling toes, she was the most sensual creature he’d ever seen.

  His cock was iron hard and pulsing against her ass, demanding release. A release he knew he could never allow himself. Not even in his dreams. But that didn’t stop him from fueling her desire. “Do you feel how much I want you, angel? How much I want to bend you over and fill you full of me?”

  She whimpered, her free hand reaching up to pinch and twist her bare nipple. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten those. I want them too. In my mouth, in my hands, pressed against me as I fuck them. Every wicked thing you’ve ever imagined is everything I want to do to you.”

  “Yes. Kit, yes!” She shuddered against him, crying out his name over and over while she climaxed on his hand.

  He bit the inside of his cheek, tasting the blood that filled his mouth as he resisted his primal urges. He was satisfied with this. Just being near her. His angel. His test. He couldn’t have more. But he could have this. He could give her pleasure.

  Kit bent his head to kiss her damp forehead. “Don’t you dare relax, sarasvatti. I’m nowhere near through with you yet.” She half chuckled, half sobbed before turning in his arms to kiss him. She slid around in his lap until her legs were wrapped as far as they could go around his waist, fingers sliding through his long hair to pull his face down.

  The greedy little temptress was driving him wild. Her tongue battled with his and he cupped the cheeks of her ass, as much to hold her hips still as anything else. If she kept rubbing against him like this he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

  “Angel, please.”

  She lifted her mouth and looked him in the eyes, her pupils so dilated he could hardly see the misty green for the black. “No. You made love to her. Really made love, not this constant foreplay.” She bit his chin and laughed breathlessly. “I can’t believe I’m complaining about continuous orgasms. But I want more.”

  He pushed her hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek, his hand trembling with restraint. “I’ve never made love with anyone but you, angel. The rest is just fucking.”

  “Then that’s what I want. I want you to fuc—”

  “Kit! Kit!”

  Kit blinked, coming out of his daydream with a soft curse. He took a deep breath, camouflaging the scent of his need so as not to disturb the young Unborn jogging toward him. Hannah. He quickly masked his frustration with a smile. It wasn’t her fault she’d interrupted his fantasy. In fact, he should probably thank her. Not that he would.

  “There you are. Oh, Kit, Liz is—”

  “Gone? I know. She left with the setting sun.”

  Hannah stopped in surprise, the note he’d watched Liz write the night before clutched in her hand. “You knew? I thought you and she were…together. Don’t you want to chase after her? Stop her?”

  Kit unfolded his large frame to stand, looking down at the small Unborn with an expression of good humor. Her eyes grew wide as her head tilted back to meet his gaze. Even after all this time, they were still intimidated by his size. But there was nothing he could do about it. Seven foot two inches was the limit he could shift down to in order to fit in with the smaller species.

  “When you meet the person who can stop Liz from doing whatever the hell she pleases, be sure and let me know.” He laid his hand on his chest with a sigh. “Alas, as dramatic and romantic as your plan sounds, I am not that man.”

  Hannah’s blonde bob curved around her adorable pixie face as she studied him. “You don’t seem too upset about it.”

  Kit shrugged. “Liz and I enjoy each other’s company. She is an amazingly sensual woman, after all. But when you live as long as we do, you learn that there is only one constant. Things change. That is the secret of life. You either change with it or let it roll over you.”

  He made a face at his philosophical tone, causing Hannah to chuckle. “I sound like Priestess Magriel, don’t I? Maybe I’m becoming a wise sage in my dotage.”

  The one-hundred-and-six-year-old Unborn, who still looked like a flapper from some nineteen twenties silent movie, had no idea what old was. Kit did. But his age wasn’t something he shared with anyone.

  Hannah shook her head, a relieved smile gracing her face, turning when one of the members of her clan called her to the house. She looked back at him as if wondering about the true state of his heart, before heading up the hill towar
d the sprawling castle that held Liz’s ragtag group of Unborns, the Devas.

  Their clan had had a rough road. He’d never believed that those Vampires who were “made”, the Unborns, should be punished because the natural born Truebloods couldn’t control their more unsavory urges. Until recently though, he’d thought his view was in the minority.

  He was proud that it was the Sariel Clan, his charge Zander Sariel in particular, who had led the others in changing the archaic rules that demanded Unborn destruction and refused them protection from the Weres. Of course, they owed that miracle to Regina, Zander’s mate, and previous member of the Deva Clan herself.

  She’d changed everything.

  “Did I hear that right? Liz is gone? Is that why you were drooling all over Hannah? Even a Were mid-mating season would wait a few hours before sniffing out a new conquest.”

  Speaking of Weres… “Jasyn Dydarren, fancy meeting you here. For a pup who hates Vampires, you spend a lot of time on the wrong side of their property line. Had a change of heart?”

  The dark haired Beta flushed, looking away guiltily. “Don’t be an idiot. My people do have a treaty with them now. And one of my brother’s mates happens to be related to the Trueblood Mediator. It’s not as if I can avoid them. I am ever loyal to my Alpha.”

  “Of course you are. Makes for a hell of a family gathering though.” Kit chuckled. “But you’ll excuse me if I don’t believe you come here to further friendship between the species. At least, not the entire species. Just. One.”

  He glanced toward the castle, watching as Hannah ducked behind a curtain. He shook his head. “When are you going to swallow that fur-covered pride of yours and talk to her? Thinking of waiting another eighty years?”

  Jasyn growled in warning, slamming a waiting Kit against the nearest tree. Kit allowed it, not making a single move to defend himself. He knew the pup was just releasing a little frustration.