Of Alliance and Rebellion (20 page)

Max growled. “She’s not
tail
.”

“Ah,” Oliver said, pitching the empty pudding cup into another trash can. “So you’re treating her well and shopping for rings. My mistake.”

“Shut up.” Max ground his teeth before saying, “Seems you’ve had a thorough debriefing then.”

“That’s what she—”

“Nope. You’re done,” Max said. “We’re here.” He nodded toward the meeting room. But Oliver was too busy prying another pudding cup out from its package, so Max sighed and went into the room first, hoping his friend would follow sometime this century. Eli, Jericho, and Luke were already sitting around the table. Max sank down into the chair at the head of the table that they seemed to have saved for him. Because they were expecting him to tell them all he had discovered of the angel.

Oliver sat in the chair to Max’s right with a sigh. “I’m gonna have three squares of this shit every day until I’ve scratched my itch,” he said, staring lovingly at the pudding cup he held in his hand.

Jericho leaned across the table, his hand outstretched. “Sugar free?” he asked. “Can’t you eat pudding like a man?” When Jericho’s fingers were an inch away from claiming a cup, Oliver stabbed the back of his hand with the spork. Jericho snatched his hand back. “Damn! That actually hurt!”

Oliver pointed his spork at Jericho. “Sugar will kill you, man,” he said, the words gravely serious. “It’s not a joke.”

Jericho had been on the verge of smiling—the corners of his lips were still tilted up—but then he looked more closely at Oliver’s face. The man’s bottom lip actually trembled—fucking
trembled
—before Oliver seemed to get control of himself and paste his signature cocky grin back into place.

“Oliver,” Eli said softly, leaning forward himself. Max knew a little of Eli’s story. He, too, had died repeatedly. Although his experience was much more gruesome than Oliver’s—someone had actually murdered Eli over and over again in a sick, twisted experiment—he was the only one who had any idea what Oliver had to be feeling. “Maybe you’d like some more time before we do this,” Eli said, gesturing toward Max’s place at the table, confirming once again why they were here.

“Nope,” Oliver said, his chipper persona back in place as he opened another pudding cup. “We have no time to waste. Max, here, has to completely alienate the woman who could love him.” He turned toward Max. “Right, buddy?”

They locked eyes, and Max ignored the feeling he got that Oliver was
good
as he tried to choke down the feelings that were crowding his chest. Did Oliver think this was fucking easy? It wasn’t! But the damn man had nearly cried over the sugar content of pudding. If Max could do anything to keep him safe—to keep death away—he was going to do it. He
owed
it to him. To them all.

There is still time to stop this
, the Voice whispered.
You have not betrayed her yet
.

“Anahita’s a half-breed.” The words left Max’s mouth firmly and loudly. Almost as though he was not in conflict with himself at all. “And I can keep her from killing us.”

All of the men around the table straightened. “Whoa,” Eli said, placing both palms down on the table. “Maybe back up a little.”

“That’s a lot,” Luke said, his voice modulating between admiration and sadness.

“Mistake,” Oliver stage-whispered before shoveling more pudding into his mouth.

Max shook his shoulders slightly, hoping to shake off the feeling that Oliver was right. “Jayden alluded to her wanting something very badly, which killing us would provide. It’s because she’s half Warrior, half Guardian that she is so motivated. I can tell you personally that she loathes her Guardian side.” He paused. “But right now, that’s the side that’s winning.” Big breath. “She’s my Guardian angel. She can’t kill me, and I just found out that she can’t kill anyone else, either, if it will hurt me in some way.”

“So you just, what—” Eli gestured in the air. “Follow her around and tell her
ouch
every time she tries to kill someone?”

“Essentially,” Max said. “Yes.” He nodded his head toward Oliver. “He seems to be her primary target right now, but I’m pretty sure he’s safe at present since I’ve already told her I lov—” He broke off as a blush crept up his neck. He looked down at the table for a moment, hoping against hope no one guessed the sentimental crap he’d just about flung.

“We’re registered at Target,” Oliver said. “Don’t be cheapskates.”

Max raised his head and frowned at him, but Oliver just blew him a kiss. Max was pretty sure some pudding went flying.
Nice
.

“Well, if she’s focused on Oliver, she won’t be able to move on lightly,” Jericho said. “Jayden told us the Compulsion sets up an order of action that angels are mostly helpless to follow.”

“Good to know,” Max said, slapping the table as he pushed to his feet.

“Hey, where you going, lover?” Oliver asked, reaching for yet another pudding cup and discovering only empties scattered on the tabletop. “Fuck a duck. Those went fast.”

“Maybe if you ate something other than a kid’s snack, you wouldn’t be so hungry,” Luke muttered.

Max spun around just as Oliver flipped Luke the bird. “She’ll be coming for me,” Max said over his shoulder as he started toward the exit. “Her Guardian side won’t let her stay out of my presence for long, and I’m sure you have things to discuss with what I’ve told you.” He paused at the door. “Just ... find a plan that doesn’t…” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Forget it. Fill me in later.”

“That’s what she said. Hah! Works in every situation.”

“Still not funny,” Max said, reaching for the door.

“Disagree!”

Max closed the door behind him. In the silence of the hallway, he deflated a bit. Damn. That had been harder than he’d expected. And he had the worst taste in his mouth. It made him want to find Anahita and replace it with a much better taste. Like her skin. Or—even better—that sweet spot between her legs that he hadn’t gotten to taste yet.

And, just like that, he was hard as a beam. “Great,” he muttered, the dull ache in his belly, which had been his constant companion since earlier today, growing to the point that he grunted.

He needed to handle things. And soon. The Impulse pain was already getting borderline distracting.

He spun on his heel to head off to his quarters and sucked in a breath, his hand shooting to cover his heart. “Anahita,” he said.

The angel had been standing right behind him.

“Uh, hey,” he said slowly, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder and make sure the door behind him was truly closed. God, he hoped she hadn’t heard anything.

She tilted her head and looked at him. Her eyes were crystal blue, so Max tried to relax. “Are you well?” she asked. “You seem ... flustered.”

Max stood straight and pulled his damn hand from his chest. “Men don’t fluster, pretty baby.”

“Oh,” she said, a small smile tipping her lips. “Of course not.”

She was teasing him now? God help him. But at least he could relax. She would definitely not be smiling at him if she’d overheard him spill her secrets. Behind the door, the sound of male laughter boomed, and Max shot into action. “Come with me,” he said quickly, reaching out and grabbing her upper arm before setting out for the main room like a man on a mission. And he was. It was called “Get the angel the hell away from the plan to betray her.”

“Where are we going?” Anahita asked, easily keeping stride with him. “Your fingers are so warm,” she said immediately after, almost beneath her breath.

Max skidded to a stop, his fingers clenching against her soft, soft skin. He looked down at her to find her face tipped up toward his, smile still in place.

“I stayed away from you as long as I could,” she muttered, her smile fading. “It was so hard. Is that not wretched?”

Heat flushed his entire body. That was the most amazing news he’d heard all day. “I don’t think it’s wretched at all,” he said past his dry mouth. “I was already coming to find you, too,” he admitted.

“You were?”

She looked so damn hopeful, Max wanted to cry. Why couldn’t this work for them?
Why
couldn’t it work? A web of itchy, hot pain shot out from his gut, and Max couldn’t prevent a grimace as he bent sideways slightly to scratch his thigh.

Anahita’s eyes flashed golden for a moment before returning to blue. “You
are
hurting!”

How many times could he blush in one day? “It’s nothing,” he murmured, surreptitiously looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. “I was just headed to my quarters to take care of it. I’m fine. Really.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re hurting because of
us
?” Her words were startlingly loud, and several nearby heads turned in their direction.

“Shh, Ana,” he whispered, ducking his head. “Come on now.”

She jolted at the shortened version of her name, and Max silently cursed himself a fool. But something in her eyes made him wonder if she
didn’t
mind the epithet. He tried to rotate his hips so that he could adjust himself in his pants without anyone seeing, but eventually gave up. They had too much attention. Max settled for shaking his hair into his face. In an odd moment of clarity, he discovered it’d been longer than normal since he’d done such a thing. He looked back at Anahita. Were her silly words of encouragement actually having an effect on him?

“It seems as though no matter what I do, I hurt you,” Anahita said below her breath. “I’m not a good Warrior. Not a good Guardian.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re a good Anahita,” Max said even before he realized he’d meant to utter the words.

Anahita looked up at him and rolled her eyes. Great, so she was having a good effect on him, and
he
’d driven an angel to learn the habit of rolling her eyes.

For some reason, this made Max’s chest warm and his palms itch to touch her even more, and the corresponding pain shooting through his gut took his breath away. He was unable to capture a grunt before it escaped. “Okay,” he said. “I really do have to go.” He turned his back and began to walk toward the living quarters, but after a few steps he still had an angelic shadow. He stopped, and she skidded to a halt, too. “Are you ... coming with me?” he asked haltingly. A certain part of Max’s body liked that thought way too much.

Anahita looked at her toes where they peeked through beneath the hem of her robe. “Well, I cannot leave you again so soon. My entire being rebels against it. And ... I find I do ... maybe ... want to come with you. Maybe.”

The word
yes
wanted to launch itself from Max’s mouth, so he clenched his jaw and covered his mouth with his fingers. “Hmm,” he hummed. With more self-control than he thought he possessed, he turned around slowly and once more made his way toward the living quarters. The journey was a blur as he spent most of his time distracted by the riot of reaction in his very-not-quiet mind. When he stopped again, it was to find that he was standing in front of Anahita’s door. He’d led them to her quarters instead of his. The place where he already felt more at home than anywhere else in the world.

Ah, hell. He wanted to punch himself in the face. What was he doing?

But then, her lily scent wafted over him and he felt the heat of her body in his back as though she had stepped closer to him in anticipation, and he reached out and twisted the doorknob, stepped out of the way, and ushered her into the room beyond.

He leaned in to catch more of her scent as she brushed past him, and the ache within him grew to the point he wondered if he was going to be able to walk on steady legs and not have to sit down.

He trudged into the room and walked right up to where Anahita had paused in front of the coffee table, where he’d touched her before. He stepped in even closer, her wings brushing his chest, and pressed his face into the crown of her head. The soft, cool silk brushed his cheeks and closed eyelids and caught in his beard. He nuzzled his way down to her shoulder where he pressed a brief kiss to the surprisingly hot skin at the juncture of shoulder and neck. She jumped and then sighed, leaning back into him slightly.

He took it as an invitation to continue. He kept his hips away from the tempting curve of her ass, though he could feel the heat of it penetrate the front of his pants. A distant, primitive voice was screaming in his head to thrust against that part of her. To clutch her hips with both hands and yank her to him. He shoved it aside.

Distance. He
had
to have it. He felt on the verge of shattering as is.

He ran his nose up the delicate slope of her neck until his lips reached her ear. He pressed a kiss there as he wound one arm around her waist and grabbed a handful of her robe. With the other hand, he unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper: a sound that echoed in the quiet of the room. As he eased his hand into his pants, he began pulling Anahita’s robe up by the fistful, desperate to touch her.

His breaths were pants now and stirred the hair around her ear. “God, Ana,” he groaned. “I feel like I’m already losing control.”

His hand found the hem of her robe on its next desperate grab, and she made a hoarse exclamation as his fingertips brushed her thigh. He breathed a groan into her ear and swept his fingers up, brushing against the soft curls that hid his most favorite spot. With his other hand, he wrapped his fingers around an erection that throbbed painfully.

With a sharp nip to her ear, he cupped her fully, sliding a finger between her lips to stroke her.

He froze.

“Ana?”

He pressed his finger between her lips again in the hopes that he had been mistaken, and his ability to breathe left him.

She was not even remotely wet for him.

Every doubt in his mind came crashing down at once. With reluctance, he eased his hand from between her thighs, gripped her by her shoulders, and turned her to face him. She would not meet his eyes, and he wondered again just how ugly he really was and how it must affect how she felt about him.

He placed his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up. When she still refused to look at him, he said, “Ana, look at me.” He winced at how vulnerable his words sounded. He couldn’t believe he
wanted
her to look at him.