Angel Guardian: Book Three of the Vampire University Series

By VJ Erickson

With the dangers she had encountered behind her, Taylor Bain is finally ready to settle down to a normal college experience. But when Eric Evans returns to town, trouble is not far behind. And when she turns to her friend Hannah Cohen for help, Taylor discovers that Tom was not her only friend with secrets.

• Language: English
• Publisher: VJ Erickson
• Release date: Jul 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310846380

Book preview

VU

ANGEL GUARDIAN

Book Three in the Vampire University Series

VJ Erickson

Copyright © 2014 by VJ Erickson

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved

PROLOGUE

In many ways, Bowling Green was a typical urban park. At first glance, it was mostly unremarkable—a small urban park with a modest fountain surrounded by seasonal flowers. Still, Bowling Green managed to draw tourists and not just because it offered a pleasant place to sit.

Welcome as shaded benches were in Manhattan’s busy downtown, the main draw to Bowling Green was the Charging Bull statue that stood outside the park fence at the fork of Broadway Avenue. The bronze-cast statue depicted a powerful bull rearing to charge—a symbol for the bullish spirit of nearby Wall Street. It was this striking figure that drew people from around the city, from camera-wielding tourists to drunken locals, to have their pictures taken with the bull and to rub the statue for good luck.

The boy who visited late that night, long after most of Wall Street and its visitors had gone to sleep, had no interest in taking pictures with the statue. Like so many tourists, he had come to change his fortune. The difference was that he knew that there was a real power in that statue, unlike those tourists who rubbed the worn bronze with only a casual belief in its effect—an act as mystical to them as throwing spare pennies in a fountain to make a wish.

He paid no attention to the loud group of young men stumbling by in their expensive suits, wrinkled and unkempt from a late night of revelry. They had come to make a spectacle of themselves with the statue and pay tribute to their bronze mascot. The boy had hoped to be alone with the bull, but being truly alone on the streets of Manhattan was nearly impossible, even at night. If he had to perform his task in front of others, at least his current audience appeared to be too self-absorbed to notice him and too drunk to remember him even if they did.

The boy received a glance or two from them as he approached the head of the bull, but they were too preoccupied at the other end to pay him any further attention. It was not even worth trying to escape their notice; they were less than harmless. As they carried on laughing and shouting, he placed his hand on the bull's snout. It was unusually warm even for having spent the day in the summer sun. He spoke the words, Agrat Bat Mahlat softly so that only he could hear. He did not fear attention, but there was no cause for carelessness.

Before the drunkards glanced his way again, the boy had vanished.

The park and the city around it faded from the boy's view and were replaced by a bright white nothing that extended as far as he could see. The same white nothingness extended beneath his feet, and if he hadn’t felt the invisible ground firmly beneath him, he would have thought he was floating in an endless white sky.

I like what you've done with the place, he said.

There was silence for a moment, and then any inky shape began to materialize in front of him. It was fluid and constantly in motion, like a dark liquid swirling in invisible water.

Hmm... Who are you? the blurry mass seemed to say in a voice that did not bother to hide its disinterest in the answer.

I'm hurt. We've known each other for so long.

Have we? 'So long' is not a concept a boy would understand. What are you? A hundred years old? Two hundred? Oh, wait… The figure swirled closer to the boy. You’re a human. Much younger than that, I would think. It is rare to have visitors here. Even rarer for a creature so young. Of course, you’re all young, even the oldest of your species. So blissfully short, the human existence.

I am older than I look, temptress.

Ah. I see. Of course. My dear Alistair, always the flatterer. The indifferent tone was gone, replaced by something that sounded, while not quite affectionate, at least somewhat interested. I didn't recognize you at first. I must say, you change forms so often I can't keep up. You are one of the more death-prone of the guardians, after all.

It can't be helped. As you say, these human vessels are so... temporary.

Oh, they are quite fragile. That's what I love about you. Such a glorious and brief thing is a human life. You’d think that such a short stay on earth would make humans cautious, but no. Your human charges have always flung themselves at life like moths at a flame. So reckless. So… disposable.

I haven't come to be insulted, Agrat Bat Mahlat.

Oh? Who said I was referring to you? You've never been one to acknowledge your own... what do they call it? Humanity?

Humanity means mortality. I'll have none of it.

And yet, here you are, in another meat suit. One more temporary body to fling into the grave when you are done with it.

And what about you? Tell me you haven't decided to abandon your body for this nebulous fog I'm looking at.

Oh, this old thing? This is just me being lazy. Maintaining a solid form here is such an unnecessary chore.

Oh please. You know you like to show off. Hiding out here in the Wall Street Bull? Like you don't get enough attention from humans that you have to camp out in one of the most handled statues on the planet?

Oh, I hadn't even though of that. Alistair sincerely doubted that. What a surprisingly clever observation from you, Alistair. But no, manipulating humans’ carnal desires is so last century. I have no interest in having their sweaty hands on me. But to have them grasp and grope to get their hands on some shiny thing? That is a different story. It's all about money now. Such a silly pursuit for creatures whose existences are so fleeting, and yet your people can’t get enough of it. Spread enough money around, and the game practically plays itself. And here on Wall Street, oh the games your mortals play.

If you wanted games, why didn’t you just keep your home in Las Vegas?

Oh, I had a time there for sure. All that booze and money, the shapeless figure said as it shivered, seemingly with pleasure. But Vegas was too easy. When people come wanting to be corrupted, what satisfaction can I take in achieving that end? I prefer a challenge with my playthings. Otherwise, why play at all?

Any other guardian might have taken offense at having his wards referred to as playthings, but Alistair never had much affection for others. His own species was no exception. Still, he knew the value of humans to him, even if others so underestimated them.

And getting humans to crave money is your idea of a challenge? Alistair asked. Perhaps I underestimated your power.

Silly Alistair. Getting mortals to feel desire is not the game. They do that naturally. No, the real challenge is getting them to break their little rules, abandon their precious morals. It is one thing to want things. It is quite another to be willing to destroy others to get them. You’d be surprised how little you humans won’t do for a bit of coin. Especially here.

You presume to know my own species better than I do. Everything is always so trivial for you, isn't it? he said. And this mysterious murk thing you're doing is as superficial as anything else you do.

I'm hurt. The figure vibrated with laughter. But if you prefer to gaze upon something more pedestrian, then I can oblige. Let's see... What is it that you desire?

You know I have no interest in the flesh.

That was only mostly true. He occasionally experienced that nagging desire for human contact that plagued his species, but he had long since buried it. The last time Alistair had indulged in such pleasures was long before Wall Street or Las Vegas even existed, when Agrat Bat Mahlat peddled her wares in the Old World. Human desire resulted in nothing but weakness in Alistair’s mind, and indulging those desires only made him vulnerable.

The voice laughed again, but this time the tone was decidedly more condescending. Oh, we'll see about that, it said, moving even closer to Alistair. The form began to solidify into something vaguely human-shaped, but still blurry and indistinct.

Perhaps you'd like to take a trip down memory lane? Let's see… What was the last form I recall you taking? Ah yes, I remember. You were that frumpy college teacher, the figure said as it solidified into a perfect likeness of Alistair as he had appeared as the dean at VanCamp University. Why you would choose to look so terribly... average, I couldn't begin to guess.

You know we cannot choose our forms.

Well, not literally, no. But you could have glamoured up something a little more appealing, don't you think? Something that would have all those impressionable young freshmen knocking on your door after hours for a little... extra credit.

Alistair sighed impatiently.

I'm not interested in your games, Agrat. I do not toy with the desires of humans for sport.

The figure of Agrat reared back and let out a bellowing laugh. Alistair was quickly growing weary of being laughed at. He didn't care to be mocked under the best of circumstances, and having it done by someone imitating him tested the limits of his patience. It was with great effort that he swallowed his pride for the moment, but he did so because of the importance of his visit, and because he knew a reaction was precisely what Agrat wanted.

Oh, dear Alistair. I have watched you and your fellow guardians manipulate your charges since the dawn of your species. You most certainly toy with the desires of humans, just as I do. The only difference is that I'm the only one having any fun with it.

Your fun is of no consequence to me, Agrat Bat Mahlat.

Please. Again with the formal names. You must delight in making me feel old. I haven't been called that in centuries.

No? Seems to me that I called you that a minute ago.

"Oh was it that recently? Time so drags on when I'm with you, Alistair. It feels like we've been talking for ages."

I assure you, the feeling is entirely mutual. But I do not come to offend. I'll call you whatever you wish. What name has captured your fancy now?

Call me Lilith.

Lilith? A succubus calling herself Lilith? How terribly original.

Oh Alistair. I’m not just a succubus; I am their queen. And where do you think those clever little human writers got the name? You think the notion to associate that name with my kind is some creation of the limited human mind? Don’t flatter yourself. All those characters are named after me, not the other way around. And let’s be honest. If you were half as clever as I, then they’d call humans ‘Alistairs’. I'm just better at marketing than you. Amongst other things.

And we're back to the insults. Can we get to the point?

Oh? There was a point? Ah yes, we were settling on a form for me. Let's see what's clanging around in that human pit of desire you call a brain, Lilith said as the image of the old Alistair Dean began to fade back into a murky mist.

You can take whatever form you like.

The mist shrunk as Alistair spoke, forming into something smaller and more feminine.

You are the one with the inflated self image, to assume that I came here to see you put on a show, he continued.

Lilith did not reply. She had settled on a figure of a young woman. Her face was still unclear, but the overall appearance of her suggested that she was attempting the form of a teenager.

I told you, said Alistair, I have no interest in young...

His voice caught in his throat. He had not expected Lilith to take the form she had finally settled on.

You think you're so clever, Alistair, that you can hide your desires from me when desire is dripping out of your every pore. It’s so thick I can taste it. I see that I've struck a nerve with this one. Who is she? She features quite prominently in your mind.

Get out of my head, he said through a grimace.

Oh, I'm not in your head, dear. Your brain is practically screaming about this girl. And yet… your feelings are so conflicted about her. Both hate and desire… And so distinctly contradictory that it’s almost like there are two entirely different people in that head of yours. How fascinating. What is her name? Oh wait... don't tell me... Taylor? Is that it?

I have no idea, Alistair said, trying to sound as neutral as possible. Whatever his feelings towards Taylor, they were none of Lilith’s business. He wasn't sure why Lilith had picked up on the image of Taylor Bain. Perhaps it was from the mind of Eric, who was constantly fighting him to regain control. He knew that Eric had attempted to feed on Taylor, and vampires could be so clingy when they got attached to their victims. But Eric was buried so deeply at the moment that he couldn’t possibly be aware of what was going on. Was it possible, Alistair wondered, that he himself was the one who had given Lilith the image of Taylor?

She must be quite the young woman to have so captured the fancy of the high and mighty Alistair.

Alistair shrugged, regaining his composure.

I suppose even I can't shake my human side altogether, he said.

Hmm... Something about that is truer than you intended. You have never willingly acknowledged your human traits. Something is different about you. It's almost like you're... more human than usual. At the very least, for the first time possibly ever, I have found you to be intriguing. Do not take that as faint praise.

I'm humbled by your kind words, he said with a twisted smile. He knew that she intended to annoy him with her condescension, but she operated under the assumption that he cared what she thought of him. Alistair couldn’t have cared less. Like everyone in Alistair’s life, she was a tool for him to use, and how she viewed him in the process was of no consequence to him. It was better, even, if she were to underestimate him.

Alistair? Humbled? Oh you are in quite fine form this evening.

Yes. Well, now that I have amused you, can we get to the actual point?

He wanted to ask her to change her form to anything but Taylor's, but he was running out of time for pointless conversation. He could feel his hold on Eric weakening. He only had been able to take over Eric's mind with the boy's permission in the past, but this time he had forced his way through, rendering Eric's mind unconscious so that Alistair could take it over. The feat had taken all of Alistair’s strength, and he could feel that he wasn’t going to be able to maintain control for much longer. The boy had proven to be surprisingly, and annoyingly, strong-willed. Alistair didn’t know when he’d have the strength to pull off such a feat again, so he couldn’t afford to squander the opportunity.

Please, Alistair, she said. I would be delighted for you to make a point. What brings you to my humble abode?

I'm here to make you a deal.

Lilith’s expression turned smug, and Alistair resisted the urge to react to that condescending look. It was not easy to do; he hated this succubus, and he hated the person whose appearance she was imitating even more.

Oh? Do go on. Why would I want to make a deal with you? she asked.

Trust me, when I’m done, everyone will want to make a deal with me.

As cocky as ever, my dear Alistair. And tell me, dear boy, what could you possibly offer to tempt the mistress of desire?

The Guardian’s Prophecy.

Oh? Lilith replied, her confident demeanor breaking for the first time. The edges of her body began to blur as her concentration shifted. You guardians and your prophecy… So afraid for it to come true that you are always using it as an excuse to slaughter each other. Which race is on the chopping block this time?

You misunderstand me. I do not intend to prevent the prophecy. I intend to fulfill it.

CHAPTER ONE

Taylor had just gotten out of her only class for the morning and had several hours to kill until her next class. It felt strange to her to have so much free time in her day. She was so used to being in school for hours on end that she felt guilty about sitting around in the middle of a weekday doing nothing. But that was the new reality of her weekly schedule. Her classes were scattered all over the day and evening, often with large gaps between them.

At first, she told herself that she would go to the