Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES) (12 page)

Much like himself. He just had more practice not letting it out.

Sir Pup padded over to her, pushed a head gently into her stomach, rubbed another against her leg. Comforting her. She stopped pacing and scratched his ears.

She finally looked at Michael again. “You stupid fuck.”

“I’m sorry that I made you feel grief,” he said.

Lilith snorted a laugh, shook her head. Hugh watched him with a quiet sorrow that Michael felt as keenly. Their friendship had spanned eight centuries, first as mentor and pupil, then as equals. Nothing needed to be said now to acknowledge the depth of that loss.

“At least that explains what happened to the demon.” Lilith’s expression had turned to wicked amusement again. “You must have been moving from denial to rage when you tore him apart.”

No denial. Just rage.

Rage that the demon had been searching for Andromeda. Rage that Michael wouldn’t have known of the danger if a computer search hadn’t exposed it. Rage that Lilith and Hugh hadn’t pushed hard enough for answers. Rage that tearing the demon apart resulted in nothing.

And he’d raged that Andromeda had still been lying in bed—because of what Michael had done to her. Of what Khavi had done to her. He’d raged at how helpless he’d been, because he couldn’t help
her
.

He was still raging—because he had so little time, because there were still so many demons left to kill—but now he was expending more effort to hold it in.

Hugh collected his eyeglasses from a shelf and slipped them on. “Now Lilith hopes that you’ll soon move on to bargaining.”

Yes, she would relish that. Demons—and former halfling demons—loved nothing so much as making bargains. “I believe she has spent her life in that stage.”

“I’m still in denial. And I have at least a hundred years before I’ll come anywhere close to acceptance.” With a shake of her head, Lilith steered away from her own mortality and returned to his. “So what difference does Taylor make?”

“She might extend my life. Not long.” That was not the only answer, but it was true. And he would not give them false hope.

“It has to be her choice.”

Michael nodded, though he knew Andromeda wouldn’t choose it. “I hope that you will help persuade her.”

“Tell her that you’re dying?”

“No. I don’t want my life to be an obligation and a burden for her to carry.”

“It didn’t bother you before. She carried your life and your body around for over a year.”

It had bothered him. “If I’d had any other option, I would have taken it before linking her to me.”

“Truth,” Hugh said.

Her eyes narrowed. “What will you do if I assign her to Hugh?”

Lilith had her own vulnerable points. Michael didn’t often prod them, but there was only one possible reaction to this. “Then I will consider killing him.”

“Truth.”

A smile accompanied Hugh’s announcement. His friend heard what Lilith would not—that Michael would
consider
killing him. Lilith only heard the threat.

As Michael had hoped, a furious gleam hardened her eyes. “If you would kill him, how can we be certain she is safe with you?”

“I would never hurt her.”

“Truth.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter if you’ll hurt her or not. She’ll have the final say.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

Andromeda would reject anything related to him. But she had vulnerabilities, too—and a fierce temper. Yet although Andromeda’s anger burned hot, it quickly flared out. Michael would have more of a chance if he spoke with her then.

“Shall we tell any of the others how little time you have?” Hugh said. “We can keep Taylor from knowing the effect she has, so that she won’t feel responsible for extending your life. But do you want it known?”

“No,” Lilith said. “Nothing remains secret, but we ought to keep this secret as long as we can. You saw what happened before, when he went into the frozen field. We can’t risk the same despair among the Guardians now, not with Lucifer so close. It ate away at so many of them then—but this time, there is no hope Michael will return. Is there hope?”

“No.”

Lilith looked to Hugh.

“Truth.”

“I prefer not to let it be known,” Michael said. He had too many good-byes to make, and no time for them. Not when there was so much else to do.

And he did not want any of Andromeda’s responses influenced by the knowledge. He did not want to win her forgiveness through compassion and pity. He would rather her anger and hatred than that.

“It is your choice,” Hugh said.

Lilith faced Michael again. “Is that your only reason for keeping Taylor near to you—she might keep you alive a bit longer?”

“Yes.”

Michael immediately regretted his answer. He should have remained silent. But once again, he’d been protecting his vulnerabilities, concealing how desperately he wanted to be at Andromeda’s side, and the response had been an impulsive one. It was the nature of the dragon—not buried as deeply as it should have been.

Hugh said nothing, gave no indication to Lilith. But beneath the other man’s sigh, Michael heard the echo.

Lie.

Colin must have been concerned about her, because he let Taylor borrow his Bentley. She left his place just before sunrise. Joe had said he’d be leaving headquarters at seven, which gave her about an hour to get there. She kept herself busy on the drive, deliberately taking the worst route to the southeast side of the city. But despite the music she cranked up to bleeding-eardrums loud and the early morning traffic through downtown, she started to dwell.

Not on the two and a half years. She’d lost time, but that hardly felt real. She’d taken a look at the news archives on Savi’s computer. Nothing had changed. People still killed each other in this city and around the world; the economy was still in the shitter. There were still the same arguments about morality and taxes and guns and telling other people how to live. Second verse, same as the first.

She dwelled on the years before that, instead. Finding out about the Guardians, then becoming one. By the time she made it to Hunters Point, she was certain that she was heading in the right direction. Mentally, anyway. Emotionally, she felt hollow—like a thin lacquered eggshell, with the contents already blown out.

At least she hoped they were blown out. If not, there’d be a big fucking mess when she cracked.

To the east, the sun glinted over the bay. The warehouse that served as the headquarters for Special Investigations had been constructed near an old shipyard. Like much of the neighborhood, the building had seen better days. The fenced lot wouldn’t keep out any real threats, but the run-down appearance told humans: There’s nothing important here.

Taylor debated whether to park Colin’s two-hundred-thousand-dollar car on the street, then pulled out of sight around the back of the warehouse. She left ten bucks on the dash to pay for the gas.

Imagining the curl of the vampire’s lip when he found the money barely lifted her spirits. It should have, but the sight of Hugh’s and Lilith’s motorcycles parked in the lot crushed her amusement. Taylor didn’t mind Hugh, but she could do without running into Lilith. Especially while feeling like this. Though she respected the other woman’s talents, it was a rare meeting when they didn’t clash.

Clashing wasn’t good for an eggshell.

Cheap metal steps led to a reinforced steel door. Taylor had rarely come in this way. With Michael’s abilities, she’d been able to teleport directly inside. Now she fished around her head looking for the key card in her hammerspace. After a few seconds, she located it and swiped. The door swung open to an empty corridor. Sensors behind the walls measured her temperature and scanned for weapons. At the end of the corridor, Jeeves sat at the security station behind bulletproof glass. She’d walked halfway there when the security door opened and Joe came through.

And he didn’t look a thing like himself. His face was the same, drooping like a basset hound’s—but nothing else drooped. His hair was tidily combed. Not a wrinkle marred his brown suit, and he must have been laying off the doughnuts because his belly no longer pouched over his belt. A perfect blue triangle sat at the base of his throat, as if he’d knotted his necktie in front of a mirror instead of simply grabbing the tie he’d used the day before, pulling it over his head, and tugging it into place.

Oh, God.
Taylor didn’t need any more confirmation than that. He was in love. And the lucky woman was probably her mother.

A wide grin pushed aside the lines on his face like parting curtains. He stuck out his hand, then tossed that aside and pulled her in for a tight hug and a manly pat on the back. Taylor closed her eyes. This was the same. He smelled like a breakfast diner, like coffee and pancakes and cough drops.

His throat worked when he let her go. “It’s damn good to see you up, Andy.”

“It’s good to be up.”

It’d be better if she was feeling more. She was glad to see him. But that happiness was just sliding off her lacquered shell, and left her feeling worse for it.

He’d be so disappointed when she told him about wanting to Fall. Joe loved the thought of her as a Guardian. He loved the thought of Guardians, period.

So she wouldn’t tell him now. Better to talk to Irena about it first.

A throat cleared. She glanced toward the security desk, where Jeeves sat watching them, his thin lips pursed with disapproval. Taylor couldn’t guess which novice it was. They all took turns shape-shifting and sitting there. She would, too, if she chose to remain a Guardian. Taylor was more than willing to do her share of shit work. But, Jesus. Fifty years pulling shifts as a stiff upper lip? Some cruel bastard must have thought that job up.

She looked to Joe again. “I better get through the rest of the scans before Jeeves pulls out his cane.”

“And before everybody else comes down here. They’ve heard you’re coming in.”

And Joe had wanted to be the first to see her. The warmth of knowing that didn’t slide off, and it told Taylor that her emotions weren’t completely burned out. Jake and Drifter stood at the security door now, too. Hanging back not because they were unsure of her identity, she realized, but to give Joe a chance to talk with her before anyone else descended on them.

She squeezed his hand, then let go to stare into the retinal scanners. “So you’re heading out to West Virginia?”

“Jake’s taking us. Drifter’s interviewing with me.”

So Jake would just teleport them there. Then it would be Drifter, who had more experience tracking down demons and vampires, and Joe, the actual investigator. A good team. “What kind of case did you catch?”

“We’re not really sure yet. We’ve been teasing it out for a few months now.” He paused, watching her, then lowered his voice. Jake and Drifter would hear him perfectly well, but they’d know he didn’t mean this for their ears. Half of being a Guardian was just being polite. “You okay, Andy?”

So her hollowed-out eggshell responses hadn’t gone unnoticed. But she only shrugged and gave a wan smile. He’d know that meant she wasn’t all together, but that she was holding it together, anyway.

She could at least try a little harder, though. “And is this case the reason you’re ironing your shirts now?”

In an instant, his worry was gone and his grin returned. Her mom did that to him? Taylor was glad . . . but no, no. She wasn’t going to think of it.

Then worry bled through again, creasing his forehead. “That’s what’s troubling you?”

“No. It’s everything else. I’m happy for you.”

“All right.” But he still seemed hesitant. “I talked to her a bit earlier. Maybe we’ll all have dinner tonight?”

They didn’t need her blessing, but she was game. “And make it official?”

“Something like that.”

“I’ll be there.” She glanced at Jeeves, who gave her the all clear, and started toward the door. “So what’s this case you’ve been teasing out? And you’ve been doing it a few months? Things are that slow?”

“Well, it’s actually seven cases so far. Unsolveds. No real profile linking them, except two similar MOs. Three strangled, four broken necks. But they’re all over the country, city and rural. Six men, one woman, no real similarity between income levels, age, appearance.”

“So what did link them?”

“There wasn’t as much blood as there should have been.”

Vampire, then. Maybe nosferatu, but usually the damage was a lot worse than a strangling.

“One other thing was connecting them. Preston tickled that one out,” Drifter said, stepping aside to let her enter the main hall.

Tall and lanky, he had a long drawl and a longer coat. Taylor liked him—though of all of the Guardians, Drifter was the one she’d had the most difficulty letting herself be friendly with at all.

Drifter looked as if he’d stepped out of a western. And he’d lived in the old west, but not the romantic side of it. After an attempt to avenge the murder of his parents had gone wrong, he and his brother had become outlaws on the run—and when backed into a corner, he’d killed the lawmen who’d chased after him.

A cop killer.

Aside from that, Taylor would have said that Drifter was one of the best men she knew. Fair, solid, thoughtful. But there was no “aside from that.” He’d killed good men, and there was no way around it. Even the extreme circumstances, the way everything had spun out of his control, were no excuse.

But he’d never tried to excuse it. More than anything else, that had allowed her to accept working with him. He’d carried that burden for more than a hundred years—and it was probably heavier because he
was
a good man.

And maybe he’d paid enough. He’d sacrificed his life to save his brother’s, he’d shown remorse and regret, and he’d helped thousands of humans since. He couldn’t pay according to human laws, so he’d have to pay by someone else’s. Taylor didn’t know who would decide that. She only knew that it wasn’t her place to judge whether the punishment he’d gotten had been the one he deserved.

It had never been her place to judge at all. Just to gather the evidence and catch the bastards.

“What link did Joe find?” she asked.

“Rumors,” Drifter said.

“About the vampire?” Not so bad if the rumors came from the vampire communities, but very bad if they came from humans.

“About the deceased.” Joe loosened his tie a little. “Investigations that never went anywhere, accusations, hints of abuse.”

So all of the victims had been accused of something but never caught. “A vampire vigilante?”

God. It hadn’t sounded stupid until she’d said it.

“This job’s flippin’ great, isn’t it?” With a wide grin, Jake teleported in front of her, swept her up in a bone-crushing hug, then backed off quick. “That’s from all of us. But I’m the only one brave enough to do it.”

“You’re the only one fool enough,” Drifter said.

Taylor had never thought of him as a fool. Jake was more like a sixty-year-old man in a twenty-year-old soldier’s body with the exuberance of an eight-year-old boy. “I won’t shoot you for that.”

Drifter shook his head. “It’s not you he ought to be worrying about.”

“Nah,” Jake said. “I can get away fast.”

They were talking about Michael, she realized. For God’s sake. What the hell would he have to say about someone giving her a damn hug?

Her irritation must have shown. Jake grimaced and ran his hand over his shaved head in an abashed gesture. “Well, now we’ve pissed you off. We didn’t mean to do that. We’re just glad to see you.”

Taylor nodded, made herself pack away the anger. She wasn’t especially close to these two Guardians, but she liked them. And she understood this. It was the same as when a cop went down and walked back into the station for the first time. Everyone liked being reminded that when bad shit happened on the job, it could still turn out okay.

“No, it’s all right. I appreciate it.”

“Good. Because we sure as hell appreciate you,” Jake said.

“That we do,” Drifter said. “I reckon that when you were transformed, you took on more at once than any of us ever have. And it was no small thing that you did to bring him back here.”

“Even though we’re afraid to touch you in front of him now.” Jake glanced over his shoulder. “Actually, the one I’m really afraid of is coming this way. Are you guys both ready?”

Taylor looked that way, too, and couldn’t see anyone. Just the central hub where stairs led to the second level, just another corridor and doors. She heard the usual office noises, the sound of combat practice from the gymnasium. The click of heels and pad of feet—
Oh.
So that was what Jake had heard. Taylor’s own dismay rose as the dark-haired woman and three-headed dog came into sight.

At least Sir Pup wasn’t in his giant form. The hellhound looked more like a really big Labrador. After being chased down in Hell by the monster version, he didn’t freak her out so much.

She looked to Jake. “Are you talking about Lilith or her hellhound?”

“Is there a difference? Both will chew my ass, given any excuse. Oh, shit. Sir Pup just heard that. Let’s go.”

Preston held out his hand to Jake and glanced at Taylor. “Dinner at seven?”

“I’ll be there. And you’d better not cheap out on the ring.”

Sudden alarm widened his eyes. Taylor grinned. Then he was gone.

With effort, she held her smile as Lilith approached. Sometimes the other woman dressed as conservatively as Taylor, especially when meeting with humans outside the agency. Not today. Leather pants and a black corset should have made her look ridiculous; instead they just made her look like she could kick everyone’s ass.

Which she could. Taylor was physically stronger, and she’d always been able to hold her own on the job, but two thousand years of fighting gave the advantage to Lilith. There was no shame in admitting that.

But she didn’t like it.

“Welcome back, Special Agent Taylor. I’d like to see you in my office, please.”

“Actually, I’d hoped to see Irena first, check in with her.”

“Unfortunately, you saw me first.” Cool as spit, Lilith turned. “My office, Agent.”

Taylor gritted her teeth and started after her. Whatever else Taylor was, she still carried a badge. And she’d had her outbursts during her career but had never admired insubordinate pricks.