Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES) (33 page)

He lifted her slightly higher—and he’d turned, she realized. The wind was in her face now, instead of blowing her hair into her eyes. She caught a glimpse of the setting sun on every downward sweep of his black wings, the bottom of the disk flattening against the horizon.

Four minutes left. “Tell me.”

“I was young. It was perhaps my eighth or ninth summer. My father was still himself; my mother was still alive—and there were ten of us, the grigori. All of us with wings, all of us strong. All of them my friends. But the human children in the nearby villages were terrified of us.”

“Why? Were you cruel to them?”

“Not intentionally. But I was often thoughtless. We were taught to be kind, but, except for Anaria, we weren’t always careful. Me in particular. Even when I wasn’t a Guardian, my body wasn’t easily damaged—and when it was, I didn’t feel much pain. So when I was told to be careful with those weaker than me, knowing that I might hurt them didn’t mean anything.”

Oh. Her gaze searched his face, saw the regret there. “But you hurt someone.”

“I pushed a boy aside as I was walking through a crowd near the temple. Not in anger, or even haste. Just careless with my strength. I didn’t kill him, but I hurt him—and I still didn’t understand what I’d done. What were broken bones? I’d felt that pain before, but it was nothing. I didn’t know why he was screaming.” He broke off, his throat working. “So when Michael arrived, I asked him. And he showed me.”

“Michael, the archangel?” Who had been friends with his father. “The one you were named after?”

“Yes. He healed the boy, then he lifted his hand”—Michael raised his, fingers spread before snapping them into a fist—“and crushed every bone in my body. And I learned what it meant to hurt.”

Stunned, she stared at him.

He grinned. “I’ve surprised you again.”

“I just . . . aren’t angels supposed to be merciful and kind?”

“All of those that I knew were. But they are also warriors, and sometimes ruthless—and I was a boy with the soul of a dragon in a body that was already stronger than a demon’s, and who didn’t have to follow the Rules. For someone with such strength, thoughtlessness was cruelty. So Michael taught me what I couldn’t have learned easily on my own—and
that
was a mercy and kindness to the humans around us, because I wasn’t careless again.”

“I guess. Maybe.”

“You doubt, because you are thinking of me as a nine-year-old human boy. I was never that.” Expression gentle, he traced the line of her jaw with his thumb. “And Michael didn’t leave me to heal on my own. He took away the pain, and he told me that it is easy to hurt someone else. Anyone with a muscle and a stick could do that. But to take away pain, to ease suffering, to protect—those take effort, and anyone with any power should dedicate himself to those instead.”

“And that made all the difference?”

“Not all at once. But it pointed me in the right direction. And I loved Michael, so I didn’t want to disappoint him.” His faint smile seemed poignant, full of long-ago memories. “Now I would disappoint myself if I used my strength to cause pain.”

“Except when you’re smashing demons.”

“Except for them,” he agreed.

“Then your Gift was like a reward. Lesson learned; we’re so proud of you. Here’s your gold medal.”

“I don’t know.” Now his smile was rueful. “Perhaps they just thought I would need a constant reminder.”

“Then they shouldn’t have given you a Gift to erase memories, too.”

His short laugh quickly ended, replaced by a sigh. “I’m going to sweep now. It might be less painful if you lower your shields.”

Because his mind was going to slam against hers as he searched for Savi. She closed her eyes, braced herself.

“I’ll practice holding them.” She cringed as the first hit like an ax against her skull, and she dropped her forehead to his broad shoulder. His grip tightened. “I’m okay. Keep going. You said that was when your mother was still alive. What happened to her?”

Another blast against her shields, and it carried anger, grief. “She was killed by Lucifer’s dragon.”

“The dragon you destroyed when you first became a Guardian?” Taylor had seen his memories of the devastation. Half of the world had burned. Forests, animals . . . people. Thousands of bodies lying in tangles of charred flesh and bone.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly against his skin. His next sweep was just as powerful, but the touch of his mind seemed almost tender against her shields. “Had your father returned to Lucifer’s army by then? Or had he already rebelled?”

“In that battle, Belial fought at Lucifer’s side,” Michael said. “And he was pleased when my mother died. He loved her, but Lucifer had called him back to Hell. He intended to free her from the Pit, keep her with him.” Now his fierce satisfaction rolled across her mind. “But she wasn’t there.”

“She didn’t go to Hell?”

“No. But I’m not surprised. She was a good woman.”

“You loved her.” Taylor could feel that, too, warm and sweet.

“Very much.”

“Do you still miss her?”

“Yes. Though not as acutely as I once did. And I see her, always.”

“What do you mean?”

“In other people. A gesture, a look. It will be the same as hers.”

Because that was how he saw people. She lifted her head from his shoulder, face-to-face again. “And others that you knew and lost? Do you see them in others, too?”

He nodded, and his expression was solemn when he met her gaze. His psychic sweeps had stopped, she realized.

“Did you sense anything?” But knew he hadn’t, because they would have already been teleporting there. “What of the other Guardians?”

“We will know soon.”

“God.” She pulled out her phone. No messages yet. “I keep hoping that Savi will surprise them. The demons might know she can turn into a wolf because so many vampires saw her do that before. But maybe they don’t know she can become a hellhound now, too. I just keep hoping that she’ll bite them, and her venom will paralyze them, and a few seconds later she’ll have rescued Colin from whatever hell they’ve been in.”

“I hope for the same.” His eyes suddenly darkened to obsidian. “Jacob?”

Taylor looked. Jake hovered next to them, shaking his head.

“I’ve checked in with all the others,” he said. “Nothing. You?”

Nothing.
Despair squeezed Taylor’s chest, pushed a small, shuddering breath from her throat.

“No,” Michael said, his arm tightening around her. “Did they find any demons?”

“Three. Rosalia’s already got one wrapped up in her shadows. Irena and Alejandro are hunting another down. I’m about to join Alice and do the same to the third.”

“Go on, then.”

Jake disappeared. Michael’s eyes met hers, his warm hand rubbing up and down her back.

“I intend to discover what Rosalia’s demon knows. Then I will help the others hunt theirs. Do you wish to come?”

Yes. But she needed anger, not despair. “Just give me a second to get my head in the right spot.”

It didn’t even take a second. She just had to think of those severed hands, Savi’s terror now, and anger instantly burned through her—then burned out, leaving cold, flat determination.

“I’m ready,” she said.

Rosalia’s demon knew nothing. The demon that Jake and Alice tracked down knew nothing. By the time Michael swept Taylor up and teleported to Irena and Alejandro’s location, hard determination still formed a cold foundation for her emotions, but the worry and despair had begun to creep back in.

Taylor had a spinning glimpse of a desert highway and a roadside diner, the parking lot half-filled—then her feet were on the ground and Michael was in his EMT uniform again. A Nevada Highway Patrol cruiser sat in the lot. Through the plate-glass windows, Taylor could see Alejandro speaking to one of the troopers, a sergeant with a few years under his belt and a few pounds over it. A couple seconds of listening gave her Alejandro’s smooth explanation that he and his companion had only come into the diner for an early morning meal, and that they hadn’t been threatening anyone. Clean-cut and still wet behind the ears, another trooper was warily watching Irena, who sat at a table eating through a stack of pancakes. After every bite, she grinned at a frail old woman huddled in the seat of a nearby booth.

Clever. The demon had taken refuge in a public place, and had apparently complained about the crazy barbarian woman staring at her from the next table. Taylor assumed that it wouldn’t be long until she asked for an escort out of the diner and to safety.

The demon did. She threw in a cane for effect and wobbled to the cruiser, clinging to the younger trooper’s arm. Gently, the trooper helped her into the back and closed the door before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Michael teleported next to the demon. Taylor heard the frail “fuck” before they both vanished.

The trooper glanced over his shoulder. In another second, he was out of the car, his expression pure puzzlement as he looked around.

He took off his hat, scratched his head. His gaze landed on Taylor. “Did you see a lady come out the back?”

“I didn’t, Trooper.” Taylor gave him her best flat stare. “And I hope I
never
see a lady come out the back.”

Poor kid didn’t know what to say to that, finally settled for “Thank you, ma’am.”

Taylor entered the diner, where Alejandro had joined Irena at her table. The sergeant tucked away his notebook, gave Taylor a nod as he passed. She watched him join the other officer, knew the kid was in for an earful.

Irena looked up at her face and sighed. “You soft cow.”

“I can’t help it. I was there once.”

“Then I will help him,” Alejandro said. “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up shortly.”

Exiting the diner, Taylor had just long enough to see Alejandro shift into the old woman’s form before Irena scooped her up and leapt into the sky, her wings a torrent through the air.

No question where they were going. The acrid touch of Michael’s Gift scorched Taylor’s shields—not the shattering pain as with the first demon in the cavern, but a sharp burn. It had been the same with the previous two demons. Either he’d learned to control his Gift or the rage and fear after his encounter with Lucifer had stolen his control the first time.

Probably the latter . . . and probably not because of the rage. She’d seen that in him before. He’d always controlled himself despite his anger. But maybe Michael wasn’t as accustomed to fear.

Which meant Lucifer’s power must be more terrifying than she’d imagined.

The desert passed below, dotted with sage and yucca. Rocky outcroppings marked the edge of a canyon. Spreading her wings, Irena slowed and glided along the cliff. Below, Michael had the demon pinned against a Joshua tree with a spike through his forehead. Already done, then.

Irena dove to meet him. Landing, she spit Taylor’s hair out of her mouth. “We must soon teach you to fly.”

“I’m up for it.” Taylor didn’t exactly love being carried around, either. She met Michael’s gaze. “Anything?”

“No. He knew nothing of the sentinels.”

Nothing. Taylor fought the despair, looked to the east. The sky had begun to lighten. They’d spent the entire night chasing down and digging nothing out of these demons.

But at least that meant Savi would soon be asleep again. The sunrise would offer some escape for her. It wouldn’t for Colin.

How long could they hold out? And should she even hope that they would hold out until the Guardians found them, knowing that every minute was torture? Maybe she should hope that they gave in, instead. Make a bargain that would keep them alive and open the fucking portal.

“Nothing at all?” No despair from Irena. Only anger, frustration. She looked to the demon, then to Taylor, her eyes developing a venomous glow. “Do you wish to use your Gift? We can discover what happens when you yank.”

Taylor would need to, eventually. But she shook her head. “I don’t want to feel that right now. That joy . . . and back to this.” Worry. Despair. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

“I feel joy every time I slay them.” Irena called in her knife. “Though I’ll not likely enjoy it so much now that I know I send them to Heaven.”

Her blade slashed through the demon’s neck. The body dropped to the desert floor, blood splattering across her leather longstockings. Irena tugged the spike from its head and glanced over her shoulder with a grin.

“I am wrong,” she said. “It is just as enjoyable.”

Taylor couldn’t manage more than a faint smile. She looked to Michael, whose gaze had lifted to the sky. Alejandro had found them.

So they didn’t need to wait here. “Can you anchor to Khavi yet?”

His gaze lowered to hers. “No.”

God. Where was she? Maybe Khavi couldn’t see Michael’s future, but hadn’t she seen Colin and Savi’s? Or even Irena’s future, or any other Guardian. Hadn’t she seen that they would soon be desperately searching for their friends?

She wanted to scream. Somehow she held it in, the lacquered eggshell forming around her again but already on the verge of cracking.

Irena studied her face until Alejandro landed beside her. She looked to Michael. “Will you take us back to San Francisco? We will report to Lilith so that you can return and finish here.”

There was nothing to finish. But they were gone an instant later, and only a moment passed before Michael returned. Taylor didn’t move as his hands rose to cup her face, gently tilting her head back to meet his gaze.

Concern filled his voice. “What do you need, Andromeda?”

Just this. Looking up at him, his eyes locked on hers, and the world quiet except for the beat of their hearts.

“I want to clear my head a little. For a few seconds, I just want to forget everything. I don’t know how to do it.” Her throat felt rough. “How do you?”

“I stand still for as long as I can.”

She wanted to do that now. Stand here, with him. But if she did, it wouldn’t be long before she was in his arms. She wanted to bring his mouth to hers. Wanted to lose herself in him, to stop feeling anything else but his warmth and strength. To let him hold her. Just long enough to get her head together again.

Except he was part of the reason she was so messed up.

“Anything else?”

“A few things.” His thumb traced her bottom lip. “Will you trust me?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“But you can.”

She wanted to believe it.

She wanted to stand here. She wanted his kiss. She wanted to believe. It was so
stupid
to want all of this.

But she still wanted to forget. For just a second.

“This one time,” she said.
One time.
A promise to herself.

Taylor didn’t know if she could keep it.

And then she was in his arms anyway. Vanishing the EMT uniform, Michael lifted her against him before she could get a look at his linens and tucked her face against his neck. She gripped his bare shoulders, hanging on. His hand wrapped around her hair, twisting until he made a rope of it, then kept hold.

“Don’t form your wings,” he said against the top of her head. “It’s important. You could be hurt.”

She nodded against his throat, then spun into cold, utter cold. The air felt thin, her inhalation shallow even when she breathed deep. The wind was a frigid burn the length of her back, Michael’s arm a steel band around her waist. Her collar and sleeves fluttered and snapped.

Opening her eyes, she looked down. Brilliant stars shone beneath their feet. She tilted her face up, into the wind.

Puffy white clouds against dark blue, but it wasn’t the sky. The ocean lay beyond the clouds. And they were falling.

“Oh, my God.” The wind tore the whisper from her lips.

She clung tighter. Michael’s arm constricted around her, stealing what was left of her breath. They spun. Not teleporting. Spinning and spinning through the sky. So fast, so dizzy. The shoulder seam in her shirt ripped. She fought the urge to form her wings, to slow down. Thank God that Michael had warned her. Spreading her wings at this speed would tear more than her shirt.

The wind rose to a roar, battering her cheeks. She could barely see, barely lift her lids, but the passing mist and the white were the clouds and the ocean was just blue, blue and coming closer.

They’d have pulled a parachute cord by now. Wings would be good. Something.

She hid her face in his neck. “Michael?”

“We’re all right.” The words were a reassuring rumble from his throat. “Trust me.”

It would be crazy to. But this was crazy, too. She lifted her head and watched the water come closer, whitecaps rolling, and maybe this was how she’d clear her mind, just smash into the ocean and let her brain leak out her ears for a while.

The ocean was a roar now, too, the wind howling and holy shit he wasn’t going to form his wings, he wasn’t going to stop until she screamed—

Then she spun into the sun and warm sand at her back, laughing and laughing because he was utterly fucking insane.

And his heavy weight was wedged between her legs, hard and thick behind a few wraps of linen.

Taylor stopped laughing. Somewhere nearby, waves crashed into the shore. A salty breeze whispered across loose sand. She didn’t look at any of it, because Michael was above her, the width of his shoulders blocking out the sky. His heart pounded as he stared down at her, eyes pure obsidian.

Slowly, he unwound his hand from her hair, slipped his palm behind her nape. His gaze fell to her mouth.

“Trust me again,” he said. “I’ll help you forget everything for a while.”

Idiot that she was, Taylor wanted to let him. “And why would I trust you with this?”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“But you did. You
did
.”

It boiled up from deep inside her, but it didn’t carry the anger she needed—only pain. So stupid. She wanted him so much. And she’d already forgotten what she most needed to remember. She should have been pushing him away, not clinging tighter.

She just needed to get her head in the right place.

“I know I did,” he said roughly. “I have no excuse.”

“But you’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Then make it up to me. Do what you did to me there. Take my . . . my need for you, and project it back to me. Make me want you more than anything.”

His gaze searched her face. “Why?”

Because he was already what she wanted. Because he couldn’t have hurt her so badly if she hadn’t cared.

And she didn’t want to care about him anymore. “Do it. Then I’ll fuck you. You can fuck me.”

“If you want to be fucked, I’ll do it without that and please you just as well. We don’t need to fake it.”

“I do.” A laugh rasped from her chest, painful and harsh. “This is what I want from you. Project that into me as hard as you can. Until I can’t think of anything but having you.”

With a shake of his head, he said, “You would hate me for taking over your mind that way.”

“I know.”

Michael froze. Icy rage stabbed against her shields. “You can’t hold on to your anger, so you want me to remind you of your reasons.”

“Bingo.”

“No.” His weight lifted, as if he meant to rise.

She dug her fingers into his forearms, held him in place. “You wanted to please me? This is the only thing that would give me pleasure now. And you’re as hard as a fucking rock, so don’t say you don’t want me, too.”

“Always. But I won’t take you like that, Andromeda.”

“This is the only thing you can give me that I want.” And she needed it. “You said the only thing I’d accept would be sex, but it’s this. And come on. You wanted to know everything about me. Don’t you want to see how I respond?”

His big body stilled. He stared down at her for an endless moment, then suddenly leaned in, fingers tight in her hair. Hips flexing, he ground his thick arousal against her sex, pushed her thighs open wide.

“Lower your shields.” Raw pain deepened the harmony of his voice, made her chest ache. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

Taylor wanted
him
. But not after this. Vanishing her clothes, she lay beneath him, naked and shaking. Her eyes closed against the burning, against the stupid tears.

She dropped her shields.

Need slammed into her like a sharp drumbeat. She stiffened, her back arching. The turgid points of her nipples grazed his hard flesh and a guttural moan ripped from her throat, then shuddered into a gasping sob when the need slammed into her again, a throbbing empty ache that made her beg him to fuck her, to fuck her now. Another beat, and she cried out as his thick length shoved inside her, pounding into her, pounding, her fingers clenching on his shoulders and his hot mouth at her breasts, his tongue lashing her clit, his cock so deep.