A Caress of Wings (6 page)

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault.” He exhaled harshly and looked at her, wanting her. He wanted more of
this
with her—quiet conversations and working together, digging through things together. In his mortal life he would’ve said he wanted to date her and get to know her better, but he knew it couldn’t be that way. Not with what she was. But he’d take this, this tentative friendship. “I need to ask you the real question on my mind.”

“Go for it.”

“What’s going to happen to me eventually?”

“Oh.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “I wish you wouldn’t worry about that. I promise that you’ll be happy and whole. You’ll have a good life.”

“Without you in it,” he said flatly.

Her silence was answer enough. And yet the downward turn of her mouth hinted that she might have mixed feelings about letting him go.

“Don’t I get a say, Siobhán? It’s my life. Don’t I have the right to make decisions about how it should go?”

She shook her head. “You have to think of the last year of your life as being a detour. You took a wrong turn—through no fault of your own—and you ended up here, but this is isn’t how it should be for you.”

“A week ago, I would’ve agreed with you. I can’t tell you how many times I told myself I didn’t deserve what was happening to me—”

“You didn’t. You don’t.”

“But when I’m with you, I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I damn sure don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“I think it’s a form of post traumatic stress disorder, Trevor—”

“Bullshit,” he said quietly and vehemently. “You’re talking to a combat veteran, Siobhán. I know PTSD. I’m telling you that I’d feel this way around you if I’d passed you on the street or saw you across a crowded restaurant. You get to me, and that has nothing to do with how we met.”

“You can’t know that.” She pushed to her feet and backed away, nearly tripping over the leg of the coffee table. “You’re forgetting what I am. I’m not like you, Trevor. I don’t have the ability to connect with you like a mortal woman could.”

He stood, the rhythm of his heart taking on a heated, demanding beat. “I don’t believe you,” he said softly, not wanting to frighten her further. She was so skittish, her eyes dark and wide in her beautiful face. “I know how a woman looks and reacts when she’s attracted to me. The signs are all over you.”

She shook her head violently.

“I’m not going to push you, Siobhán,” he promised, carefully closing the distance between them. “I can live with this—what we have and what we can’t have. I just want to be near you. Don’t send me away.”

“I have to send you away! There’s even more reason to, now that you’re talking this way. You’re confused. You’re mixing up gratitude with something else.”

“Shh,”
he soothed, hating to see her panicked and upset. He wondered why she was so freaked out when he knew she felt some of what he felt. She acted like the world was going to end if they cared about each other as more than friends. He wasn’t even nursing the hope that he could ever have her physically, but surely caring about each other—maybe even eventually loving each other—wasn’t wrong.

She pointed an accusing finger at him. “Don’t look at me that way!”

Trevor caught her wrist, tugging her closer.

“Stop it.” Siobhán yanked away and he couldn’t hold her. She was too strong. “You can’t feel this way about me. You need to stop it right now.”

He smiled. “God, you’re adorable—you know that? You’re like a pissed-off pixie. A little dark-haired Tinkerbell.”

Her mouth fell open.

“You said no one can change the way I feel about anything,” he reminded her. “Doesn’t that mean it’s meant for me to like you?”

A little growl escaped her, a sound of frustration that had the effect of rousing his desire. In an instant, he wanted her in the way he knew he shouldn’t. His smile faded and he took a step back.

But she saw it anyway. He could see the awareness of his unexpected hunger sweep through her expressive eyes. And he saw the tiniest spark that told him she could return it.

“Trevor.” Her voice was husky.

Damn it. Getting turned on now was only going to freak her out more. “Yes?”

She moved so fast he couldn’t follow her. One minute she was about a yard away and the next, she was pressed up against him and kissing him with passionate inexperience, her soft lips closed as she mashed them against his.

He caught her up with a groan, lifting her feet from the floor, his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips until they opened with a gasp and let him inside. He licked into her mouth, stroking into the warmly sweet recesses, his mind reeling with the headiness of her flavor and the feel of her surprisingly lush body in his arms.

Lust exploded through him in a potent rush, hardening his cock and goading him to grip her hair in his fist, holding her still so he could ravish her tender mouth.

He was nearing the point of no return when he heard her voice whisper across his mind—
I’m sorry. I have to take your memories.

Then the room spun and went black.

Chapter 8

“Why now?” Malachai grumbled, staring down at where Trevor lay unconscious on the couch. “After we went through all the trouble of setting this sting up?”

Siobhán studiously avoided looking at Trevor. Whenever she did, her heart rate kicked up and her breath shortened. She should’ve known better than to keep him around a moment longer than necessary. Every second she spent with him made her more vulnerable.

When he’d looked at her with heat in his eyes, his stunning face made hard by a mortal’s raw desire to mate, she’d felt a quickening in her blood and a terrible yearning for his touch. The soft glide of his tongue and the grip of his hand in her hair had stirred something frightening inside her—the need to submit and surrender, to forsake everything for him.

She cleared her throat. “He was becoming too attached to me.”

Carriden rubbed his hand over his jaw, studying her. “It doesn’t matter, Malachai,” he said. “It’s done. Should I take him to the archangel, Siobhán? Or would you rather do it?”

Gratitude flooded her for his intervention. As far as she was concerned, there was no point in discussing any of this further. She couldn’t change the choices she’d made or how she reacted to them. She could only move forward.

“If you would, please, Carriden. Thank you. I’ve already called Raguel and discussed it with him. He’s in Las Vegas, but he’s made arrangements for Trevor to be received at his offices in Anaheim. Malachai and I will stay here with Daniela to see if Trevor’s scent stirred anything up.”

“All right.” The red-haired angel bent down and collected Trevor’s lax body, tossing the mortal over his shoulder. “I’ll call you once I drop him off and see if you want me to come back here or return to Ontario.”

Reaching out, she touched Carriden’s arm.
Could you double-check and make sure I didn’t miss anything in his mind?

Carriden met her gaze, his own filling with compassion. He nodded. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Siobhán knew her request betrayed her. If she hadn’t been compromised, she wouldn’t fear leaving a piece of herself behind in Trevor’s memories. As it was, she couldn’t be sure she hadn’t and she needed the certainty of knowing that every single recollection and impression of her was wiped completely away. He needed a fresh start, without any possibility that she might inadvertently hold him back.

When the front door shut behind Carriden, she looked at Malachai. “Where’s Daniela?”

“Fueling up the van. She should be back soon.”

“We’ll go out when she returns.”

Malachai crossed his arms, his chin lifting stubbornly. “Are you okay, Siobhán?”

“What if I’m not?” she shot back, tired of his poking and prodding. “If you want to call Adrian about me, just do it.”

“Don’t get pissy. I’m just worried about you.”

“What does that accomplish? It’s over. I just want to forget about it.”

He exhaled audibly. “My understanding is that it’s not so easy to get over having feelings. Adrian’s never recovered.”

“But he’s still effective, isn’t he? He still does what needs to be done. His dedication has never lagged, and neither will mine.”

“Okay, okay.” Malachai lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m here for you if you need to talk about it. Actually, I wish you would. I’m curious.”

Siobhán arched a brow at him. “Don’t they say curiosity killed the cat?”

“I’m not a cat.”

“No, you’re a pain in my ass.” She turned toward the door as it opened and Daniela walked in. “Let’s go. I need to hunt.”

*  *  *

Aurelia climbed onto a stool beside Siobhán and muttered, “Who knew the lycans were so much better at hunting than we are?”

She looked up from the slide of lycan blood she was studying to meet her fellow Sentinel’s discouraged gaze. “Still no luck?”

“Three days and Malachai, Carriden, and Daniela have nothing to show for it.” Aurelia’s gaze roamed over the lab. “Did you see my suggestions for how we might keep some of the subjects alive while conscious?”

“I did, yes. You pointed out some challenges I hadn’t thought of. Thank you.”

“You’ve been distracted.” Aurelia’s fingers rubbed absently into the aluminum tabletop. “Do you miss him?”

“Who?” But she knew, and she looked back into the microscope to hide her face.

Yes, she missed Trevor. Missed him in the infirmary, where he’d helped her draw blood and replenish intravenous fluids. Missed him in the lab, where his comments and questions about the samples had sparked theories and ideas. Missed him in her room, where he’d been a great sounding board for her and something very pretty to look at . . . So little time and yet they’d shared so much.

“You know who. The mortal. Trevor.”

“I hope he’s doing well,” she murmured, her gaze unfocused as a now-familiar loneliness weighed heavily on her mood. She’d never felt alone in all of her existence until now. She couldn’t understand how it was possible to feel that way when she was so often in the company of her fellow Sentinels. “He certainly deserves it.”

“I’d like to save someone like that. All the way through. You know, from the time I find them until the time they’re ready to go back to living their mortal lives.”

She looked up again. The difference between her and Aurelia in that moment was so pronounced Siobhán was shaken by it. Aurelia was still pure of purpose, almost childlike in her inability to perceive or empathize with emotions. That brought home just how much Siobhán had changed and how long that gradual alteration must have been occurring.

The cracks must have been forming for ages. Trevor had simply slid into one with the precision of a honed blade, widening those cracks and making her even more susceptible to his potent affect on her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Aurelia asked.

“I’m sorry. My mind wandered.”

Aurelia’s frown cleared. “I just think it’s great that you know you helped a mortal, because you did it directly. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering if we’re making any difference at all.”

Siobhán’s cell phone started ringing and she pulled it out of the cargo pocket of her pants. She saw the name on the display and answered, “Hey, Damien. How are you?”

“As good as can be expected under the circumstances.” Damien’s voice was confident and smooth. It was one of the things she’d always admired about Adrian’s second-in-command—he never got ruffled. “Are you still looking for uninfected vampires?”

“Yes. Who knew they’d be so hard to find?”

“That’s the question I’ve been asking recently. It’s been very quiet since the lycans revolted.”

She straightened. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s probably not. In the interim, I have three vampires here at Angels’ Point.”

She thought of Adrian’s home, Angels’ Point, a compound in Anaheim Hills that served as headquarters for all Sentinels. It was only a few minutes’ drive from Gadara Tower, where the archangel Raguel based his operations. And where Trevor had been taken.

But he probably wasn’t there now. He’d likely been absorbed into Raguel’s network and dispatched to wherever a soldier medic would be the most needed. Raguel had his own battles to fight, after all. Still . . .

“I’ll head down,” she said, glancing at the clock. “I’ll see you around two.”

“We’ll be expecting you.”

Siobhán hung up and wondered what she could wear. Her usual military style wouldn’t be appropriate if she was going out in public.

“Where are you going?” Aurelia asked.

“To the Point to pick up some vamps.”

The Sentinel’s face brightened. “I’ll come with you.”

“Great.” She headed toward the door. “We’ll take off in fifteen.”

*  *  *

Siobhán turned off the main road and began the drive up from the city into the hills where Angels’ Point waited. The distance between sprawling hillside properties widened the higher they climbed until they reached a wrought-iron gate bisecting the road, cutting off further public access.

On a rough-edged granite slab on the shoulder was sandblasted the words A
NGELS’
P
OINT
, which might have seemed welcoming if not for the gatehouse and the big lycan in human form who stepped out of it. She was able to recognize what he was straightaway because of his size—too large to be aerodynamic—and his electric green eyes, which came from the demon blood that coursed through his veins.

Knowing they needed to learn from their previous mistakes, she lowered the window of the Mitchell Aeronautics SUV she drove. “Hi,” she greeted him. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re here.”

He blinked, clearly startled by the unusual courtesy from a Sentinel.

“Thank you for coming back,” Aurelia piped in.

“Uh . . . okay. Sure.” Looking bemused and wary, he disappeared into the gatehouse and the gate began to open. He offered an awkward wave as they passed him.

Siobhán drove the mile distance to the house, her eyes searching the hillside for lycans in lupine form and seeing only a few instead of the dozens that would normally dot the landscape.

Rounding the circular driveway, she parked in front of the entrance to Adrian’s home.

“I still can’t get over how different this place is without the lycans,” Aurelia said as she hopped out of the passenger door. “It’s so empty and quiet.”

That’s the way Siobhán had felt since Trevor left, but she kept that to herself, turning her attention to the house instead. The residence scaled the side of the cliff in three tiers, each with its own wide wraparound deck. Distressed wood siding, rock terraces, and exposed wooden beams enabled the house to blend into the hillside.

Angels’ Point had appeared in numerous architectural magazines and been the focus of a television special on extravagant ecofriendly homes. It was all part of Adrian’s strategy and message to the vampires—
I’m here. Take me on.

One half of the double-door front entrance opened as they approached and Damien filled the threshold. His handsome face was impassive as always, his eyes watchful and his aura as dark as his inky hair. He was an angel well worth having at your back . . . unless you pissed him off. He was ruthless in everything, from the strength of his friendship to the ease with which he cut down his enemies.

“Siobhán. Aurelia,” he greeted them.

“You have a lycan at the gate,” Siobhán said.

“More and more straggle in every day. It seems not everyone was unhappy with the status quo.”

“And how’s Adrian?”

Damien’s head tilted to one side, considering. “Hmm . . . Settled, I’d say.”

Adrian had been conflicted over his love for aeons. Being “settled” was a gift—for him and for all the Sentinels. “That’s good,” she said. “The timing couldn’t be better.”

“It surprises me to hear you say that. Lindsay is a huge vulnerability.”

“I know.”

“Siobhán has her own mortal,” Aurelia interjected. “She understands Adrian better than we do.”

“I know she does.” Damien’s gaze stayed on Siobhán’s face as he held out his hand and summoned an envelope.

Taking it from him, she broke the seal. There were photos of Trevor’s sister and her family inside, including shots of his namesake. “You got them. Thank you.”

“Go ahead and deliver that,” he said evenly. “The vamps are still on their way from Anza, so you have some time.”

She frowned, confused.

“Malachai told me about your situation,” he explained. “I understand you need to see the man. You need to make sure he’s doing well and that he doesn’t remember you. So go. When you’re done perhaps you’ll become settled, too.”

“Thank you, Damien.”

“I’m learning to adapt to Sentinels and their mortal quandaries.” A slight curving of his lips made her realize the impact Lindsay was having on everyone. “Trevor Descansos won’t know you,” he warned. “Be prepared for that.”

Her breath caught as comprehension hit. “You’ve seen him.”

She saw it in his eyes and wondered what Malachai had said about her “situation.” Whatever it was, Damien had taken the trouble to see for himself that Trevor’s mind had been completely wiped of all trace of her.

Damien gestured for Aurelia to enter the house. “Descansos is leaving California today, Siobhán. Raguel’s going to put him through med school.”

“Good. That’s good.” That meant Trevor’s life was back where it had been before he was taken—at least as much as it could be considering his former friends and family believed he was dead. She heaved out her breath. “I won’t be long.”

Aurelia offered an encouraging smile. “See you when you get back.”

Was it possible to truly go back?
Siobhán wondered. Back to the Sentinel she’d been before she’d found the one mortal capable of making her feel . . . human? Did she even want that?

Perhaps there was no going back for her.