Claimed: The Guardians

By Cammie Eicher

Guardian Security holds the line in the battle between good and evil, protecting a complacent world from the unseen terrors around them. The public knows the agency as ad adjunct to the justice system, chasing down those jump bail and making sure court rules are followed. But the unknown work carried out by Guardian agents keep life as most people know it on an even keel.

 

Chiana McFain is a tough as nails, no holds barred senior agent with Guardian Security, assigned to trace and dispose of hell rats, rogue vampires and other paranormal creatures.  But she goes from hunter to hunted in a matter of seconds after a ghostly apparition touches her and brands her arm. Forced to face the reality that she's only half-human, she reaches out to the only other person who knows she's the daughter of a Valkyrie, the doctor who has developed a unique serum to hide her heritage from Odin himself.

Creed Davies cares about only one thing in life: Work. A free agent taking covert assignments from Guardian, he's committed to protecting Chiana from the spirit warrior stalking her – or killing her himself to keep Odin from this world. Desperation leads him to use a Sumarian binding spell to keep her near and keep himself safe from the mood swings of a new, untested serum. A fierce dedication to duty drives him to take any means necessary to save Chiana and his own soul.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fat Cat Pubishing
• Release date: Apr 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201791704

Cammie Eicher

Cammie is a native Ohioan who moved to northeastern Kentucky and fell in love with its rolling hills and wonderful people. She loves sunshine, coffee and traveling to weird little places usually accompanied by her fearless sidekick Minnie, who loves rides as much as any other dog in existence.

Book preview

Claimed

The Guardians

Cammie Eicher

Published by Fat Cat Pubishing, 2021.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

CLAIMED

First edition. April 11, 2021.

Copyright © 2021 Cammie Eicher.

ISBN: 979-8201791704

Written by Cammie Eicher.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Claimed (The Guardians)

Further Reading: Death By Deceit

Also By Cat Shaffer

Also By Cammie Eicher

About the Author

­Chapter One

THE ALLEY REEKED OF garbage, piss and despair. Still, Chiana knelt behind the husk of a discarded refrigerator, oblivious to all but her desperate need. She fumbled a syringe from a tired leather case with shaking hands and plunged the needle into the soft flesh of her belly. Leaning against the worn brick wall, she waited for the hot rush of sweet relief.

Find anything? Mick Hardison’s voice was low and tension filled.

Nada! she yelled, shoving the dead syringe back into the case.

So get out here already.

Mick’s voice was tense. Chiana knew he was moving ahead without her. She rose, strength returning to her muscles as the terrible need faded. Her racing heart slowed, her skin cooled and the desperation to rage at someone or something slid away. She took a deep breath. Time to go back to work.

She ran, sensing Mick before she saw him kneeling between a delivery truck and a beat-up van. Guided by the yellow glow of his electronic sensor, she came up behind him and dropped to one knee. He didn’t notice.

Chiana watched over his shoulder as Mick moved the black box across a thin stream of what looked like transmission fluid but wasn’t. She shared his disappointment as the light turned not to green but red.

They’ve been here. Mick scrubbed the substance into the asphalt with the toe of his boot. Sometime tonight, but too long ago to track.

Chiana stood and scanned the tops of the nearby buildings.

Might as well call it quits, she said. Dawn’s only an hour away, and we’ve lost the trail.

Mick’s face took on a look she knew too well, the one that said he wanted to argue. He wouldn’t. Chiana was senior agent, and he respected rank.

She pulled a cell phone from her pocket, hit a familiar number and waited for a reply.

Take us off the clock, she said when it came. We’ve been chasing a couple of biters for the last few hours, and gotten nothing but close. We’ll get ‘em on the flip side.

Approval secured, she grinned at Mick. They were officially done working for the next two days. Of course, that didn’t mean they were off duty. They’d be lucky to make twelve hours without hearing from the agency, but she’d take what she could get.

I hate vampires. Mick’s tone was morose.

Before that you hated demons. And before that you hated trolls. No matter what we  chase, you hate them. You are one hard man to please.

She caught the beginnings of his smile in the glow of the street lights. The man should be happy. She couldn’t remember the last time they were off for even twenty-four hours. There was something to be said for the bean counters throwing a hissy fit about expenses.

Chiana pulled off her jacket and Kevlar vest as they reached her vintage cherry red Mustang. She tossed them in the trunk and settled behind the wheel while Mick eased into the passenger seat.

A U-turn in the middle of the street headed them out of Louisville’s industrial district. The only sound as the car rolled north to where the street lights ended was heavy metal music pouring from the in-dash CD player. It soothed them as they wound down from the adrenaline rush of the hunt and tried to become normal people.

There okay? Mick pointed toward a familiar 24/7 diner. Located where city conceded to suburb, it offered cheap breakfasts and limitless refills of coffee. That was nearly as big a draw as the high-backed booths offering privacy as they shed freak hunter duties.

Chiana slowed to turn into the pitted lot, parking toward the back. She’d love her Mustang in any condition, but she preferred it showroom perfect.

Customers were sparse at this hour between dark and day. They picked a booth near the door but away from the cash register, and ordered without looking at a menu. Chiana smiled as Mick’s gaze lingered on the curvy waitress.

I bet I know how you intend to spend your weekend, she said. With something hot and blond, right?

Mick laughed. And you’ll spend yours with a horror novel or some freaky movie. The world would end if you spent it in bed with a man.

Chiana flipped him the finger. He was the only person who knew she was still a virgin at twenty-seven. Long nights in dumpy warehouse neighborhoods led to talks that wouldn’t happen in broad daylight. One of those nights, their conversation turned to relationships, and Chiana’s revelation.

No offense, Mick said after a moment of surprised silence, but wow. Sex is the ultimate trank for people like us. It’s the best way I know to blank out the night before and put me to sleep. I thought everybody wound down that way.

Hey, there’s a whole lot of ways to take the edge off without putting the sprocket in the pocket, Chiana fired back. Ask any hooker.

That was the last they talked about sex or her lack thereof. But Mick had shown a protective streak ever since that Chiana found sweet, if unnecessary. She found out more about Mr. Alpha Male on other nights and came to realize his insecurities were as deep, if not more intense, than her own. His past formed a future in which he refused to allow anyone or anything to stop him from fulfilling his ambition.

The steaming coffee, fresh and strong, arrived at their table in thick mugs. Chiana inhaled the aroma before taking her first sip. The stuff was every bit as wonderful as she anticipated, and her three-egg omelet with toast, buttery grits and two syrup-loaded pancakes was equally satisfying. She sat back, empty platter in front of her, and eyed the food across from her.

Hungry much? Mick groused as she snagged a slice of bacon off his plate.

Girl’s gotta eat, she said. The shot sent her body into hyperdrive, kicking her pleasure receptors wide open and jacking up cell activity. That always happened when she got off schedule. One shot every twenty-four hours was the rule. She hit nearly thirty this time before she found an opportunity to shoot up.

The sky was tinged pink by the time Chiana tipped her mug to her mouth for that last sip. Her body was settling back to normal, and she was getting sleepy. Time to crash.

Need a lift, she asked, or is the guy working on your truck going to pick you up?

Don’t worry. Mick patted the cell phone in his pocket. I can get a ride.

I’m sure. Chiana smiled. Mick had a list of willing women.

Mick answered with a grin and a shooing motion. Chiana slapped a ten-dollar tip on the table, paid for both meals and stepped out into the pale dawn. The air was warmer, carrying the hint of a summer storm. She didn’t care if it rained all day.

Her plans were simple. She’d sleep like the dead for a few hours before hitting the gym and working out until she was ready to drop. Exhaustion suited her.

With her mind elsewhere and weariness sneaking in, Chiana didn’t sense the shadowy form behind her. She didn’t catch its odor or feel its presence. When unexpected arms wrapped around her, shock froze her in place and kept her there as a rusty voice whispered in her ear, You’re ours.

She instinctively tightened her body and pushed with her mind. In the milliseconds needed to make that shove, in the time it took for a gasp to escape from her tight throat, the visitor was gone. She staggered forward, trying to reach the Mustang before she collapsed.

From the other side of the diner’s plate glass window, Mick caught her ragged movements. With one succinct curse word, he was on his feet and running out the door. He barely reached Chiana in time to catch her pale form in his arms.

They found me, she whispered.

Frantic, Mick looked for a bite mark somewhere, anywhere. Those damn mutants were getting brave. Unlike their vampire ancestors, they had no fear of daylight. Their corrupted blood gave them the viciousness necessary to attack an agent.

His cursory examination revealed nothing. He picked up Chiana and carried her to the Mustang. Scooping up her keys from the pavement, he slid into the driver’s seat and locked the doors.

Not much scared Mick. Spending his first dozen years with parents like his, then living in a series of foster homes, he had been through more at the age of thirty-one than most people survived in a lifetime. Yet seeing his fearless, no-holds-barred partner slumped in a seat beside him, conscious but not really there, put him on the edge of terror. Something bad was happening. He didn’t understand it, couldn’t stop it and didn’t know what to do next.

Desperation driving him, he flipped open his cell phone and punched in a familiar number to report an agent down.

Don’t.

Chiana’s voice came in a weak hiss, her hand slapping the phone onto the seat between them.

I’m calling in.

The agency can’t help me.

The resignation in her words deepened Mick’s worry.

If they can’t, no one can. I’m calling.

I said don’t. Chiana’s voice was stronger. There’s only one guy I trust. I can handle this alone.

No. Mick fired up the engine. Tell me where he is, and I’ll take you. You’re in no shape to go anywhere by yourself.

Sometimes you can be a jackass, you know that?

Sometimes you can be stubborn. Mick dropped the Mustang into drive and headed out of the parking lot. Give me some directions or we’ll circle the city all day.

A lovely ride. Her voice strengthened.

Especially at morning rush hour.

Tank's full. We might make it into the evening rush hour.

Your choice.

Yep.

Calling her bluff, Mick pulled into the stream of traffic. Dropping behind the slowest car he could find, he started a series of left turns that took them around and around a two-block square. The only sound inside the Mustang was the radio until Chiana said, We could go to Nashville if you hit the expressway.

Her voice lacked its usual snap. Mick knew she was trying to pretend everything was all right. He also knew she'd keep on pretending even if they drove all day. He pulled into an empty lot, letting the engine idle. He studied her under the strengthening daylight. She was sitting straighter, and the deathly pallor was gone. Her eyes no longer held a feverish glint. Mick noticed all those things in the instant before he saw her arms.

What’s that?

He shoved up her short sleeves. An intricate design circled Chiana’s flesh, an imprint burned into her skin.

Not your problem. Chiana yanked away and pulled down her sleeves.

She saw concern, confusion and uncertainty in his eyes. She had to get rid of him. Mick was a company man. The agency provided everything he wanted in life – discipline, security, a sense of belonging. His first instinct was always to call in. She couldn’t risk that.

Get out. She shoved his phone into his jacket pocket. Call for that ride.

I’m not leaving you.

Fine, then. I’ll go.

She pushed open the door and swung her legs out. She thought she could stand. She was almost right. She held onto the open door for support in a desperate attempt not to show weakness. She had to make Mick believe she was okay.

Come on, get back in here.

No. She started to move, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Her muscles ached and she had to concentrate hard to stay upright, but she kept going.

Fine then, Mick said. Suit yourself.

Chiana turned. He leaned against the car’s front fender, hands in his pocket, staring at her. She read anger in the set of his shoulders, the hard tap of this foot against the ground, the narrowing of his eyes.

Tough shit.

She returned to the Mustang, patted Mick’s cheek and said, You’re off the clock, remember? Enjoy that blond.

She dropped into the driver’s seat, revved the engine and was gratified when Mick moved away. He was right. She had no business driving. She probably shouldn’t be alone. But there was only one man who knew what she really was, and she needed to get to him.

Fast.

She hit the phone and spat one word into the receiver when the answering machine came on.

Help.

Taking my break now! Caroline Morton called through the window separating the diner’s kitchen from the customer area. She took the cook’s grunt as an assent and slipped out the back door into the rising morning. She sat with her back against the storage building at the back of the lot, wishing she still smoked. She thought better with a cigarette in her hand.

Tuning out the awakening streets around her, she replayed the scene from the parking lot in minute detail. It might have been nothing more than an argument. That happened a lot. She long ago quit being surprised by what people did in public.

Yet something was felt hinky. She began watching when the guy in black high-tailed out