Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES) (47 page)

Why would he have to? “Didn’t the angels tell you what the stars were? Did you ask?”

“Of course. That didn’t mean I understood the answer eight thousand years ago. How can the same stuff that makes up the air burn so hot? How can those gases be so dense at the core that no one but an angel could hope to lift more than a handful? I didn’t understand what the stars were until the past fifteen hundred years, and that’s only because the same ideas had been permeating discussions around the world. Finally, the angels’ explanation began to make sense.” He studied her for a long second. “But knowing the scientific explanation, tell me that you don’t look up and marvel, too.”

Who didn’t? But it still didn’t make any sense. “And you think
that
makes my name fit?”

“Doesn’t it?”

His gaze searched her face. Whatever he saw there couldn’t have been what Taylor saw when she looked, not when he used words like
marvel
and
wonder
. But when his warm hand cupped her jaw, when his thumb stroked across her bottom lip, she knew what he saw then—her eyes, gleaming a pale blue. Because she could see the light, too, glowing over his bronze skin, washing away the shadows and shining in the inky darkness of his eyes.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said softly. “Perhaps when I look at Andromeda in the heavens, I am more the man who wants to swoop in like a conquering hero and claim his prize, to own just a little bit of her. Because life will end far too soon, but the constellations will endure. And my only hope is to impress myself upon her, because if something I’ve said or done is forever stamped upon someone so beautiful and so endless, perhaps a part of me will endure, too.”

Michael would endure. He always had. He didn’t need her for that.

But her throat was so tight, she could barely get the words past it. “I think it’s safe to say that you’ve left your mark on me.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Not deeply enough.”

Her heart thudded. Slowly, his head descended. Giving her time to get away.

She wasn’t going anywhere. Not even if the world broke apart in the next moment. Before the end came, she needed this. At least once.

With a sweep of her wings, Taylor rose to meet his lips.

No brilliant white light surrounded them, no darkness and pain. Just Michael, and his gentle kiss.

He wasn’t tasting her yet, but exploring the shape of her lips with his, matching the curve of her smile. All so perfect. The heat of his mouth, the strength of his hands, the pounding of his heart.

Perfect, except too much space still separated them. Her palms smoothed up over his shoulders, fingers sliding through his short, thick hair and cupping the back of his head. Eagerly, she pressed closer. God, the feel of his body against hers. So hard, so strong. Every muscle taut, and his lips no longer smiling, no longer exploring. Her wings didn’t beat so steadily now, erratic sweeps that threatened to pull her away from him, up and down. Gusts of swirling air blew strands of auburn hair forward across her cheeks. His hands tightened at her waist.

“Andromeda.”

Her name was a soft growl against her mouth—and for the first time, that name felt as right as he did.
Michael.
Not the man she’d imagined he was, but exactly the man she needed.

With a sigh, Taylor parted her lips and invited him in.

And fell.

His taste. Oh, God. Not even a flavor but his hunger and the heat of his tongue stroking into her mouth. Need sliced through her like a sword, and everything she’d kept inside spilled out, a hunger that matched his, not a dragon’s but a woman’s, and just as impossible to tear herself away from this, though they were falling, spinning out of the sky.

She didn’t care. She’d already wrecked herself upon him.

But there was no pain here. His mouth still devouring hers, Michael turned his back to the sea as they hit. Water crashed around his wings. The impact smashed through her, jolted teeth and lips and the instant warmth of his healing Gift. Cold followed, the taste of copper and sting of salt in her eyes. Swirling darkness pressed around them, filling her ears with the rush of the ocean and the pounding of her heart. Sinking deeper, into this kiss, into him. The blue glow lighting the water paled, then grew brighter and brighter. She clung to him, ravenous, her nails digging into his scalp, trying to take more. This was everything she’d wanted, and now that she had it, only more would do.

When would it be enough? It never could be.

Never enough of Michael’s fingers, tightening on her nape, angling her for a deeper kiss. Never enough of the humming in his throat, the sound caught on the edge of torture and bliss. Never enough of his tongue thrusting past her lips, promising to give the more she needed with every hungry lick.

And still falling. Pressure built against her ears—then popped and Taylor spun out of the kiss, senses reeling. Stars overhead. The sea below.

Michael’s mouth fastened to her throat.

A delicious shiver raced over her skin. Moaning, she arched against him. His tongue traced up the side of her neck.

Slowing. Tasting the salt, she realized, just as he had the wine on the beach. Regaining control.

This time, disappointment filled her soft moan. As if in answer, he kissed the corner of her jaw, then sipped the seawater clinging to her lips.

But he was right to stop now. They had so much to do.

With a heavy sigh, she drew back to look at him. Eyes obsidian, his black hair slicked tight to his skull. Pulling away hadn’t been easy. Need still held him rigid. She read the agony of it in the tautness of his jaw, the flatness of his lips.

Heard it in the roughness of his voice. “There’s not enough time.”

Before the world burned? “There will be,” she said.

It had to be.

“Yes.” His eyes closed briefly. “I will make it enough.”

Though still rough, sheer determination hardened each word. Taylor smiled, wound her arms around his shoulders, and pulled herself closer again.

“We will be pretty busy, though. We have a lot to do: Try to find a little justice for Mark Brandt. Rebuild Caelum. Hunt down the sentinels and stop them from creating that portal.” All necessary, but still not everything that she wanted to do. “If the world does end, though, you have to promise me we’ll fit in a quickie.”

“Or several.” His grin flashed, stark and beautiful. “I can be very quick.”

Her laugh burst out, but faded as his gaze intensified, locked on her face. The fierce emotion hardening his features and heating his eyes to a warm amber glow wasn’t one that she’d seen from him before, but Taylor thought she knew what that was.

Or what she hoped it was. Because she felt it, too.

But with the future so uncertain, no plans or promises now. No declarations.

Except one.

“Whatever time, it
will
be enough, Andromeda.” His arms tightened around her. “It will be.”

At this moment, Taylor had too much time.

Before the sun rose over the bay east of San Francisco, she finished scanning the surveillance videos from cameras within five blocks of the drive-through where a vampire or demon had bought a biscuit for Mark Brandt. She’d seen plenty of vehicles, but between the angles and the predawn lighting, she didn’t get a good look at most of the drivers.

But it wasn’t a dead end. Not yet. She ran the plates for each car. Not a single one listed as stolen, no rentals. She ran the names on the registrations. Nothing popped. That didn’t mean she was done. Names could be falsified. Cars could be taken and returned without the owner noticing. The person who’d been driving it might not have been the person listed—and one of them might have been a demon.

She couldn’t check any of that out by computer, though. It required a visit in person. Preparing, she compiled the vehicle owners’ addresses and general information. She’d start at those living nearest to Brandt’s family home, then spread out.

But first, she had to wait. Even Guardians couldn’t go knocking on doors at the ass crack of dawn, and Taylor couldn’t go to Seattle alone. She texted Michael to let him know that as soon as the clock ticked over to a decent hour, she’d be ready to head out. While she’d been working at the Guardians’ new headquarters, he’d been teleporting to vampire communities across the globe, meeting up with other Guardians, trying to drum up any more leads. She had to cool her heels until he returned.

Cool her heels, and resist the impulse to ask him to teleport here so that she could get her mouth on his again.

Stepping back for a while was good. Last night’s kiss had knocked her sideways, harder than brain-sex on the beach had—even harder than their first kiss, when he’d completely changed her life by transforming her into a Guardian and linked her mind to his. Something had fundamentally changed inside her again, and there was absolutely no going back. No chance to Fall and return to normal.

Because she’d already fallen too far. They’d dropped out of the freaking sky, and she hadn’t cared. They’d crashed into the sea, and she hadn’t had a second’s worry about being hurt. Either she trusted him that much or she’d lost any sense of self-preservation.

It was so stupid. And she didn’t like what this feeling did to her. This insane distraction. The giddiness. The need to see him. She wasn’t sixteen years old, for God’s sake.

Yet she loved this feeling, too. The wild thrill of it, like forming her wings and flying, even though she wobbled. She loved the hope, and even the fear—and how every part of her life seemed richer, just by being near Michael.

But she wasn’t going to text him simply because she wanted to steal a kiss.

Joe came in just after six, his face hangdog tired but his grin wide and his clothes unwrinkled. Clean shaven instead of stubble, three days in a row—ah, the miracle of true love.

“I got a new one for you,” he said.

Not a vampire or a lead. Joe tugged a slip of folded newspaper from his jacket pocket, the edges of the column ragged, because he always ripped rather than clipped. Even love couldn’t clean up that habit.

“Let me guess,” she said with a glance at his coffee. Twenty-four ounces, probably strong enough to strip paint.
“‘Cop Tries to Become Vampire, Finds His Veins Full of Caffeine instead of Blood.’”

“That’s not odd news. I figure that accounts for half of America.”

True. On the job, Taylor’s blood had run on coffee, too. She flapped open the little article, read the headline.

“‘Vermont Man Arrested after Fleeing Police in Toy Jeep.’”
Even sporting a newly strengthened faith in humanity, she couldn’t believe the stupidity. “A toy, like a kid’s Power Wheels?”

“Yep. Though I figure the truly bizarre thing here is that they were in Vermont but it wasn’t a toy Volvo.”

She snorted, shook her head.

He sipped from his cup, nodded to her desk. “So what have you got lined up?”

“A face-to-face with some of the names from the vehicle registrations. After that, I don’t know. If this doesn’t pan out, we’re down to nothing that links to Brandt. And you’re heading back east—interviewing more of the victims’ families?”

And waving the picture of the vampire who’d killed Brandt in front of them, in the faint hope that there was a link between his murder and the seven others over the past year and a half. Finding a connection was a long shot, but it was the only reason for him to be up this early. Lucky him, dawn had passed three hours ago on the other side of the country.

“That I am. We didn’t get very far when Drifter and Jake got back from yesterday’s jaunt to Hell.”

“They were pretty rattled?” First by Lucifer, then by seeing what had happened to Colin and Savi.

“Yeah. From what Jake told me, I guess I would have been, too.”

Taylor, too. They’d done everything necessary while shit had been going down. They’d held it together. But after it was done, of course they’d been shaken up. Anyone with a bit of humanity would have been.

“Anyway.” Joe shrugged. “So I’m playing catch up as soon as they show up.”

Which they did a few minutes later. After they left, Taylor sat at her desk again, tried to tease out a few better images from the surveillance and tamped down her frustration. She’d be out there soon enough.

Maybe sooner. A familiar heartbeat suddenly sounded behind her. Pulse leaping, she glanced back. Michael, in his federal agent suit. Not with the jacket this time. Just the dark gray vest, white sleeves rolled up his forearms, trousers low on his lean hips, and all of him tall and strong.

God. Looking like this or wrapped in a sheet, Michael hit every single one of her “take me to bed
now
” buttons. Judging by the wicked little smile lifting the corners of his mouth, he knew it.

But that suit had a purpose, too—and it wasn’t just to drive her crazy, thinking about getting her hands all over him.

She glanced at the time. “It’s still too early to go to Seattle.”

Not that she was complaining. She could spend the next ninety minutes staring at him. No problem.

“That’s why I came now.” His amber gaze swept her face. “You’re all right? I felt your frustration when I jumped in.”

Frustration that returned the second he reminded her of it. “I just hate this hurry-up-and-wait mode.”

“So you’ve finished what you needed to do here?”

“Yes.” She gestured to her computer. “I’m ready to go. The clock just has to catch up.”

Maybe she should be the one asking if
he
was all right, though. He contained it well, but she could see the tension holding him rigid. That wasn’t just his usual watchful stillness. That was restraint.

But even as she looked him over, his smile faded. Amber darkened to obsidian. “Would you like to get some air, then?”

Get some air—?
Oh.

His heavy-lidded gaze fell to her lips.

She leapt into his arms so fast her chair crashed into the next desk. “God, yes.”

*   *   *

Taylor didn’t see where Michael took her. Before her head stopped spinning, his mouth had captured hers. No waiting, no gentle exploration. The hot thrust of his tongue sent Taylor’s mind whirling again, her knees weak.

Drowning in this kiss. She wound her arms around his neck, pushed closer. A groan of pure male pleasure reverberated through his chest. Strong fingers tightened on her ass and lifted her against his heavy erection. Sweet suction on the tip of her tongue yanked arousal into frantic need. Her body arched and she whimpered against his mouth.

She needed more. More than this. Her hips rolled, grinding her sex against his thick length. Already so wet. Aching for him.

Her body wanted to rush. Oh, God. So did she.

She kissed him. Hotter, harder. Her fingertips dragged through his short hair, nails scraping. Soft, mewling noises formed a continual refrain in the back of her throat. Desperate, helpless sounds that might have embarrassed her with anyone else. How could she need someone so much? All-consuming. With a single touch. But Michael was there with her. Lost in this. His incredible body rigid with the same tension and pleasure winding a tight line through her senses. To feel everything in a kiss. To never want to stop.

Yet still want more.

She angled her head, her mouth slipping from his, and panted his name at the corner of his lips. “Michael.”

That breath was all she managed before returning to the kiss. She couldn’t bear to break away. The heat of his mouth. His hunger.

But he must have known what she needed. Or he needed the same.

His big hand wedged between them. Denim ripped, and she had just enough sense to vanish her jeans before his fingers dove into her panties and slicked through slippery heat.

Every thought stopped. Her hips jolted forward, demanding a stronger touch. Mouth open and hot against his, her breath rasping, Taylor stilled, feeling nothing but the callused roughness of his skin, the hardness of his hand. Groaning against her lips, Michael glided his thumb over her clit before delving deeper. His blunt fingertip teased her entrance.

Her body tensed, anticipation a painful ache. But she didn’t want it like this. Not the first time she took him in. As much as she needed this kiss, she needed to see Michael more. Needed to watch him.

Tearing her mouth from his, she looked up. Oh, God. Eyes pure black, arousal flushing the skin stretched tight over his cheekbones, expression stark with need. As if his anticipation cut as deeply as hers.

Yet he was still restrained. The effort of his control corded the tendons of his throat, throwing the line of his jaw into sharp relief. At her back, his hand slid up her spine to grip her nape, holding her in place.

So that he could watch her, too. Primal pleasure seared her nerves at the realization.

“Slow, Andromeda?” Heated and thick, his voice echoed the desire curling through her. Another finger joined the first, parting her wet folds. A moan started low in her throat, and she forced herself not to rock forward, take him in. “Or all at once?”

She wanted this now. Slow could come later. “All at once.”

Gaze locked on her face, he nudged two fingers just inside her slick entrance. Despite her request, still preparing her. Sensitive flesh yielded around him. Her thighs tightened at his sides, shaking with tension.

Unable to bear it, she pushed against his hand. “Michael. Please.”

Eyes flaring amber, he slid into her wetness and heat. So deep. Taylor cried out, bowing against him. Her inner muscles clenched at the sudden invasion, clamping around his fingers.

Without giving her a moment to adjust, he thrust into her again. The world spun. No teleporting. Just sensation. His warm palm supporting the back of her neck, the tightness of his grip. His heavy groan, his hard chest, and the throbbing burn of her nipples beneath her shirt. The tight tug of her panties with every movement of his hand. The fullness inside her, his thumb stroking her clit.

Faster. Harder.

Oh, God. She couldn’t breathe. Her hips rocked uncontrollably. Already so close. Desperately she gripped his shoulders, tried to hold on, to make this last. But there was nothing going wrong, nothing to slow her down. As if he knew exactly the effect of his touch and what it did to her when he looked at her like this, watching her lose control as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and his only purpose was to overwhelm her with need so fucking hot that everything else burned away. Except more heat was rising within her, a flare of anger and resentment, because she could see his hunger, see it burning, could hear his scorching arousal and pleasure with every groan and in the pounding of his heart, could feel his cock like a ridge of granite between them. Yet he stood unmoved, as tall and as strong as a mountain while she shattered herself against him.

Then even that seared white-hot, the orgasm screaming through her and incinerating every nerve and thought into ash.

And more white all around her. Shuddering against him and coming back up, her mouth against his, not kissing, not tasting, just breathing him in. His fingers still inside her, his other hand gently massaging her nape. Broken columns of marble lay at his feet. Caelum. His temple. Taylor’s home for a year. His home for thousands.

This was where he’d brought her.

Heart full, she drew back to look up at him, her legs still wrapped around his waist. Her thigh muscles hadn’t stopped trembling yet. God, when she finally had sex with him it was probably going to kill her.

Except that he would never let it happen.

Obsidian still darkened in his eyes. His hunger hadn’t been sated. Yet he thought only of her. His gaze searched her face. “All right?”

“Yes.” But heat rose in her cheeks. She wasn’t the one with a giant erection straining the seams of her trousers. “I’m not usually so selfish. I swear. I just lose it the second you touch me.”

“Good.” Satisfaction deepened his reply.

Taylor wanted him more satisfied than that. She rocked against his arousal, trying not to lose it again when the movement pushed his fingers deeper, and was rewarded by a rumbling groan, by a flare of amber through obsidian.