Summon Toren (Archangels Creed #3) (6 page)

He suddenly wanted to smash in the face of every human who’d rejected her. “That’s not at all why I’m able to not look.”

“Oh? Are you gay? Or married?”

He chuckled. “No.”

“Maybe you’re a virgin.” Her derogative tone said she knew he wasn’t.

Toren tried to decide if her thinking that would help him in his cause to win her. He checked his coat again. “Are you done?”

“Yes.”

He returned his coat to hang above the stove and went to the food container where he'd left it sitting on the bed, taking care not to look at her. Directly. But his peripheral only teased his
curiosity, making him want to examine what it was about her body that she thought was so masculine. Everything he could make out was delicate, intriguing female.

He opened the food side of the ingenious container, reversing what Kassie had done to close it. “Hungry?” He handed her one of the napkin wrapped crusts and despite his best efforts, his gaze landed briefly on her chest.

“Thought you wouldn’t look." She took the food, her bold gaze drilling into him.

Toren choked on surprise. Before coming to Earth, he'd spent some time studying acceptable human social behavior. Samantha kept forcing him to reassess what he'd learned. “Sorry.” What else could he say?

She snorted back, not really seeming to care. “There isn’t a thing there to see darling, but I’m damn well glad for it.”

Toren looked her in the eyes, making sure not to look anywhere else. He didn’t know how to respond to that and the way she stared back, chewing her food, felt like a test. But how to pass?

“I think…”

She held up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t bullshit me
. I like you and if you bullshit me I won’t. I’ve come to terms with what I am and have no problems with it. It’s the opposite sex that needs to get a notion.”

“A notion?” Toren sincerely didn’t understand where she was going with her logic.

Her gaze turned nearly flinty as she leveled it on him. “Please. Pretending ignorance is so not becoming for you.” She took another bite and mumbled around her food, flicking her finger at him, eyes on his body, “You got a big man’s body, I have a small one. But cross me and see just what I can do with this small body. I assure you it isn’t feminine.”

He grinned at her spunk. He loved that about her. “Are you trying to tempt me?”

She raised her brows. “Tempt you? Honey,” she patted along her chest, “there isn’t a thing to tempt with. You don’t believe me? Here, feel, I’m not kidding.”

Toren’s grin faded and he went stand by the stove, his back to her. Rage roared through him like a freight train, demanding he punish those responsible for her feelings of hurt and inadequacy. Knowing her father lay at the beginnings of all that pain made him anxious to meet the man. And stake him out in a desert for predators, as the TV westerns sometimes showed the Injuns—no, Native Americans—doing.

“Sorry to disappoint you bubba, but—“

Toren took a breath to get a handle on his anger so it wouldn't come out in his voice. “I’m
not
disappointed, quit pretending like you know me.”

She snorted. “Whatever, Mr. Get Any Woman You Want. You men are all alike, you want the
voluptuous
bodies that come with the legs on loose hinges that flop right open with only a breath. That isn’t me and never will be, on every level. And I’m glad.”

Toren turned around and faced her halfway through her adorable rant, captivated by the anger and passion that animated her features. She paused for a breath and the rise of her chest caught his attention. Before he knew it, he found himself trying to measure her breasts. Sure they weren’t voluptuous, but they were damn well there, no doubt perfect. He nodded at her body. “Sorry to say but…you definitely do
not
have a man’s chest.”

He raised his eyes to her glare but now he saw more than anger there. A spark of…damn he itched to let his mercury power loose on her and name that look. Maybe doubt. That she might be wrong and he might be telling the truth. Why else would he say it? What would lying accomplish?

Her gaze turned guarded as though she thought the exact same thing. What was his angle? Rather than saying anything, she straightened his shirt and pulled it on, bunching it over her chest as if to form a barrier against his gaze and speculation.

He put a hand over his heart. “It’s just the God’s honest truth. I’d bet you look
nothing
like a man. Anywhere.”

A look of incredulous disbelief contorted her beautiful features, making her look
…somehow edible. “Well wouldn’t you be the only man in Montana to say that, which—“

“Means nothing?” he suggested with raised brows.

Her eyes flashed, high emotion intensifying the color. “Just because I’m the only living heir to this place doesn’t mean I have a lot of money. Any man stupid enough to marry me—“

“Is one blessed son-of-a-bitch.”

Her jaw hung open then snapped shut. “Stop
interrupting
me dammit. Whoever marries me is likely inheriting a huge financial headache and one pissed off heiress.”

He couldn't hold his grin back any longer, despite the risk of turning her general anti-man anger toward him specifically.  

“Wipe that smug smile off your face. I
swear
if you turn out to be anything like that arrogant ass Joe, I’ll shoot you between the eyes with a cow pie loaded sling shot.” She took a bite of her pastry and closed her eyes. The dark shadows under her lashes reminded Toren she was ill.

“I promise you, I’m nothing like him. From what you’ve said at least.” He forced himself to leave it at that in the interest of conserving her strength.

“Huh.” She finished her food in silence, studying him over her water bottle.

Toren took an experimental bite of his own little bread-wrapped meal, unsure what to expect. To his surprise, the blend of textures and flavors was extremely pleasant. He finished it quickly, impressed with the sense of warmth and well-being it create
d.

Before he could comment, Samantha grimaced and shivered, rubbing her hands along her arms before putting her forehead on her drawn up knees. “I’m so damn cold and tired.”

Toren’s heart skipped a beat at the note of vulnerability in her tone and he hurried and brought his coat to her. He should be ashamed, pursuing his own agenda with her so sick and at a disadvantage.

She openly roamed her eyes over his body
making the mercury in his cells heat, and prepare for engagement. The nearly physical weight of her gaze glided across the contours and highlights of his arms and chest in a way that made him think she liked what she saw. He could easily imagine her fingers following the same path.

“At least you’re extremely…fit…” she took the coat and covered herself. “What with the flu going around, maybe you'll be a little less likely to get anything secondary.” The light from the stove's grate danced over her small face, making her look more delicate. The singed hair on the right stuck out a little. The simplicity of her short straight hair suited her and fascinated him. The strands looked like the most exquisite silk
, making his fingers ache to touch. 

He forced the thought o
f her hair away from his mind. “Lay down Samantha. Rest. I’ll be here watching over for you.” Toren made his voice liquid smooth for her.

Surprisingly, she didn’t argue and just slid down on the bed, pulling his coat close. “I’m so cold,” she moaned.

Toren went to her and felt her forehead. God, she was hot. Why wasn’t that medicine working yet? Surely it should have after so long? She must be miserable. He lay his hand along her jaw in an attempt to offer a little comfort at least.

She took hold of his hand before he could draw it away. The feel of her frail fingers on his strong ones stilled his breath. She kept her eyes closed and tugged his hand closer.

He had to do something more for her. The fire and his coat were a start, and if she hadn't been ill, might have been all she needed. But with whatever germ she'd caught quickly draining her resources, he had to give more.

“I’m going to lay with you and warm you.” He waited for her protest. When it didn’t come, he climbed into the bed behind her, carefully molding his body to hers and wrapping his arm around her.

She moaned softly and snuggled close to him sending Toren’s mercury into a frenzy of unfamiliar want. He found himself in a panicked struggle to maintain control of its disobedient behavior. Nothing could have prepared him for such battle.

Samantha's slight body quaked with violent shivers and faint whimpers followed each breath.
He ached to use his abilities and heal her, or at least ease her suffering a bit. She was too precious, too pure, to have to endure so much. Following a series of bone rattling tremors, she turned over and pressed her burning face into Toren's chest.

God. He froze for an instant, then, in an irresistible reflex, his legs and arms went around her and pulled her closer. His mouth pressed a soft kiss onto the top of her head.
He inhaled, drawing her scent deep. Smoke and burnt hair prevailed as the strongest and most recent, and beneath that, fear and sweat. But at the foundation lay her unique female scent combined with some fruity soap concoction she washed her hair with. Some addictive quality therein made him want to absorb every molecule, to savor and relish.

He fought the impulse to exploit his advantage. The competitive warrior within him demanded he take any opportunity that brought him closer to his objective
. His common sense told him he dare not approach winning his chosen mate as if the relationship were a military campaign. She was desperate and vulnerable, the exact conditions to make it all happen. He could set the wheels in motion toward completing his part of the mission. But the ease of his success would be because she was sick. He didn’t find that a very noble way to win a woman’s heart. And Toren knew that if he wanted success, winning her heart was necessary. No doubt that was why he craved it so desperately.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“What is pillow talk?” Dorn’s voice was low as he leaned a hip on the counter.

Kassern grinned and raised his brows. “You’re asking the wrong angel, bro.” Huh, the angel who knew everything found something he didn't know. Imagine that.

Dorn threw a quick peek down the hall before whispering, “Sally is waiting for me right now,” he poked his finger on the wood plank table, “to do that. Am I going to be talking to my pillow? What's the point?”

Kassern chuckled at how alarmed the perfect angel was. Not knowing everything about something must be such a hard pill to swallow for the genius bastard. “You could ask her.”

“I’d rather just know.”

“Then ask your humans.”

Dorn sighed then closed his eyes, silently summoning his male human. A few seconds later, Lucian came from the room he shared with Jessie, yawning and running his hands through his hair. He shuffled to the table looking like hell and sat. Gaunt hollows shadowed the contours of his face and beard stubble darkened his jaw to give him a sinister appearance.

He scowled at Dorn and grunted. “What.”

“What is pillow talk?” Dorn nearly whispered and glanced around surreptitiously.

What the fuck kind of question is that
screamed from the tired lines of the human’s face. “Why?”

Dorn rolled his eyes and sighed, petulance emanating from his every cell. “Can’t you just tell me? Why does everyone feel the need to know my reasons for asking a simple question?”

"We're just amazed to find something you don't know everything about." Kassern grinned. “Sally has asked for this and he wants to know how to perform it.” Lucian turned his look to Kassern and Kassern shrugged. “I’m clueless as well.”

“It’s when you talk,” Lucian said plainly, “while laying on your
pillow.”

Dorn waited patiently for more. When it didn’t come he said incredulous,
“That’s it?”

Damn the aqua angel sounded funny in shock. But Lucian’s e
mphatic nods of, uh, yeah, made it official.

“Pillow talk,” Dorn repeated, amazed. “
Well, I can certainly do that.”

“That’s good,” Lucian said, nodding. “Now can I go back to my pillow? You interrupted the sleep you insisted I get.”

“Yes, yes. Rest well. My apologies.”

“Yes, yes, I will,” Lucian muttered as he walked back.

Kassern nodded at his human when he was out of ear shot. “Your boy okay?”

Dorn sighed. “You saw his face, of course he’s not. I mean he is as long as he’s not allowing himself to fall prey to the lies that gave him that mark.”

Kassern nodded slowly. “
The God hating bit.”

“Yes, and the bitterness that sort of ignorance pro
duces. When a human can’t figure something out, then he calls it a paradox. When important things go misunderstood, it leads to frustration, frustration leads to anger, anger leads to--”

“Star Wars!” Kassern pointed at him. “Master what’s his name says that part.”

Dorn stared at him in worrisome disbelief. “My God, when do you have the time to make mashed potatoes out of your brain?”

Kassern shrugged. “I’m pretty good at multitasking. But in regard to your human, yes, well regarding all humans.
It would be nice if they considered the all-important fact that they don’t have all the fucking variables for their flawed data.”

“And much of the data they do have is flawed.” Dorn’s frustration lined his head.

“Fucking aye.”

“Do you…do you really find it necessary to use that form of language?”

Kassern grinned and shrugged a shoulder. “It’s just word shades. Nothing more.” He turned his head suddenly. “The Serith is coming.”

“I feel him.” Dorn stood with Kassern in respectful preparation.
The arrival of a member of the Brotherhood of Aesculapius was a big deal, especially a high ranking member. Normally, apprentices and lower members dealt in the direct practice of medicine upon both human and angel, as well as the other intelligent species spread throughout all the Universes.

For a Serith, one of the senior medical experts, to take personal interest in a case was practically un
heard of and nearly sent Kassern off the deep end with worry.

Kassern’s heart beat at a ridiculous pace,
dreading the news. When the angel fully formed in the room, Kassern and Dorn bowed. “Serith,” Kassern said.

“I will not delay in relaying my findings.
You will bring your female to the Grotto of Aesculapius in order for me to conduct a full line of tests.”

“What?” Kassern’s body began to tremble with ruby energy
as he fought to control that debilitating human trait called panic.

The man seemed regretful and concerned. “What I have found is unlike anything I have seen before
. The fluid and tissue sample taken showed lethal toxins with extraordinarily small minimum effective doses. I've hypothesized that the only reason she remains alive is that she has somehow assimilated some of your unique angelic properties and they have selectively mutated her immune system into something we’ve not encountered, allowing her to fight the infection."

Kassern’s heart nearly stopped. “From that creature?”

The Serith nodded. “I have found strains of a sort of super bacteria, similar to the medication resistant strains humans often contract when the full course of an antibiotic is not administered over repeated infections. The bacteria is fused with supernatural particles, and I believe the source to be—”

“Demons.” Dorn spat the dirty word.

Kassern reeled with horror. “When can I bring her?”

“Immediately. The bacteria
reproduces at more than ten times the rate of normal bacteria. It is also undergoing extremely rapid genetic mutation, no doubt intentional, rather than the random changes we would expect to see. We can’t be too careful until we understand it more. I need to run several tests and find out how her body is resisting it. How is the wound?”

Kassern raked his hand through his hair, wanting to hurt something. “It seems not to be progressing any further than a rough bruise.”

“Bring her to the Grotto at first chance. I am confident in three days, I will have an antidote.”

“I’ll get her now. Dorn?”

“I’ll hold things here. We’ll keep all activity under the radar while you’re gone.”

Kassern nodded, rubbing his mouth and looking around, feeling disoriented. The idea that Karly was so close to death ripped his angelic control apart. Kassern
tried to figure out how to break it to her that they would have to leave immediately.

She would resist, no doubt, insisting that the wound was nothing, so he
would have to convince her to go. Not to mention, he wanted to spend one more night with her first, since he would likely not get to touch her while there. Just the idea made his entire body ache for her. “In the morning. I’ll bring her in the morning.”

“Good idea.” Dorn gave Kassern one hard
slap on the back.

Unfortunately,
Kassern's worries took away any enjoyment of the highly unusual display of affection.

The sooner he had Karly looked at the better. This was good. Of course it was, he needed to act like an angel and not a pussy-whipped
human.

** ** **

Exhaustion pulled at Sam, bones and muscles filled with a liquid ache on top of the waves of painful tremors that kept rolling over her. Despite the soul-deep weariness, she forced her reluctant brain to consider the cozy warmth surrounding her.

The most delicious scent filled her senses, all fresh and warm and… Male? Surely she was imagining it?

The question forced her brain into the next level of alert.

She was cold, bone deep and deadly, but a source of magnificent heat held direct contact with her skin. The surface was firm but giving, silky smooth but textured. Skin?

She climbed to the next level of awareness. Searching for details, she found hard muscle and amazing contours. Big.

A dream no doubt. No man would be naked and pressed up against her. It was the pitiful truth, even if it hurt. She might as well enjoy. No doubt imaginary men were the only kind she'd ever have the opportunity to make love to.

She needed no further incentive to snuggle closer, molding her body to the big muscular frame of her dreams. His scent was addictive and she drew it deeper into her with every breath. She nuzzled her face in even closer and gave in to the temptation to slide her lips along the silky skin at the base of his throat.

The dream man sucked in a breath and held it, muscles tight. Mmm. What an amazingly vivid dream.

Warm satiny skin begged to be tasted and Sam obliged. Her tongue slipped between her lips for the tiniest sample. Delectable. She had to have more. The tip of her tongue moved of its own volition, tracing the line of his collar bone then settling back into the notch at the center.

Dream man’s throat moaned, barely audible, and strong arms pulled her closer to his body while one big hand slid down her back to lightly cup her ass. He shifted a little to his back and brought her partially atop him, allowing her better access to that wondrous chest. The hand on her butt slid down the back of her thigh and applied gentle pressure to draw her leg up.

An inferno of a massive erection twitched against her inner thigh, drawing a moan from her. Damn, how vivid and realistic could a dream be?
She ached, knowing any minute she’d wake up alone in a cold bed in her second story bedroom of the ranch house. She trailed little kisses down the center of his chest, occasionally veering to the side to taste an incredible pec.

Dream Man moaned again and trailed the hand still on her thigh back upward, taking the time to stop and caress her muscled curves, and made her wish she'd shaved her legs more
recently. Then magical fingers found the groove at the top of her thigh and slipped forward to nestle next to her sex.

"Mmmm, yes
." The breathy whisper escaped with a desperate ache for more. She paused to swirl her tongue along the underside of a well-developed pec, reveling in the little shiver that passed through him.

Those fingers moved over
her cotton panties to settle across her lips with the lightest touch, almost tickling. He grunted a little—frustration?—and slipped his fingers inside the elastic at the leg. The tips combed lightly through her pubic hair, tightening muscles she'd never known about. Incredible heat and tension built fast, settling right above her pubic bone, making her push toward it.

He tenderly separated throbbing folds that, while not virgin, hadn't known a man's touch could impart real pleasure.

She instinctively spread her legs a little more to give him better access and she pressed her hips into his to create a new sensation. "Oh, God, yes." Air surged into her lungs and she pushed onto his fingers for better contact. Her lips explored another portion of his chest, desperate to taste all of him.

He continued to gently stroke her outer folds for what seemed an eternity. The pressure he applied seemed to magnify her clit with indirect caresses until she dripped with desire and thought she might never breathe normally again.

Sam's entire body throbbed in time with her pulse, every heartbeat producing exquisite tremors through inner muscles that desperately sought the heat of his cock.

And still he continued with those maddening caresses that promised so much.

Delirious with his touch, she whimpered against his chest and let her mouth trail wherever she could reach. Her upper lip encountered a small swathe of silky hair and she couldn't resist tugging at it with her lips.

Dream Man moaned in response and
finally
let his fingers go a bit deeper, actually penetrating her inner folds to slide across skin exquisitely needful of his touch. Her muscles clenched again, sending another cascade of moisture flowing.

Her lips continued to toy with his chest hair until she found the hardened disk of his nipple and allowed her tongue to lavish it with attention, drawing another moan from him.

His hips rocked to thrust his scorching hard-on against her inner thigh. He needed to act like a Dream Man soon, and dissolve their underwear, or something equally dreamy.

Before she could follow the thought along a path of logic, he let the tip of one finger slip inside her while another finally came into direct contact with her clit.

Her nails dug into the muscle on his sides, drawing a dreamy groan from him and earning her more sincere caresses on the ache between her folds. “Yes,” she whispered, “yes, touch me.” She pushed her hips into those perfectly dancing fingers then gasped when he rolled to halfway cover her body with his.

God, so good. So real. So impossible.

Scorching breath accompanied lips along her neck just as his finger slid in deep. “Oh God yes! Yes!”

Lips moved up and sucked along the line of her jaw until they reached her mouth. She turned for them, desperate to kiss. She wanted to really kiss this wonderful Dream Man. Full warm lips settled softly over hers and proceeded to tenderly taste with hot groans.