Guardian Unraveled: Fallen Guardians

by Hunter, Georgia Lyn

  Ohhhh crap! Her stomach heaving, she grasped him tightly around his waist and buried her face against his chest, breathing in his unique and warm male scent.

  All too soon, they took form in a backstreet near the chrome and glass building of The Tower. And she was clinging to him like a vine. Hastily, she let go, straightened her top and, evading the reeking dumpsters there, headed for the front of the building, all the while aware of his quiet, dark presence following her.

  Harvey was still on duty. His warm smile slipped when he looked behind her, wariness spilling off him. She couldn’t blame him. Dagan was about as friendly as a tiger with his space invaded.

  “Hey, Harv,” she called out. She had to find a way to get into town tomorrow evening to meet Harvey, without her shadow, because she doubted Dagan would calmly accept her summoning a broker demon.

  At the penthouse elevator, she slowed. Then, gritting her teeth in determination, she stepped into the suffocating steel space. With Dagan there, she really hoped she didn’t lose her shit.

  Shae squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the wall, arms wrapped around her waist as the cage bore them up, claustrophobia making her stomach churn. She tried desperately to center herself like she usually did…

  “Shae, look at me!”

  The urgent voice came from a distance. Someone was shaking her. She blinked her eyes open and found Dagan in front of her. Concern flickered in his bright eyes.

  Oh, no. Not again. Embarrassed warmth flooded her face. “I’m sorry, I don’t like enclosed spaces.”

  He let her go. “So you create a windstorm to break through?”

  She frowned in confusion. “What the heck are you talking about? I don’t create anything. I just shut my eyes and pray it ends, fast. I’m grateful this is the penthouse elevator so no one sees me losing my mind.”

  He eyed her thoughtfully as the doors slid open. Shae hurried out of the deathtrap and made for the penthouse at the far end, then unlocked the door and entered the condo. She was halfway across the room when she realized Dagan hadn’t followed.

  Spinning around, she found him standing at the doorway. “Well, aren’t you coming inside? Or do you need an invite like a…a vampire?” She couldn’t resist the taunt, or stop her grin when his sexy mouth tightened.

  “In a minute.” A cold snap.

  Who knew she could ruffle the feathers of this big, bad, uptight warrior?

  He cut her a cold stare before pulling out his phone. A hazy memory of lips kissing her throat stirred again. Her smile faltered. But when she found him watching her, she blinked away the images and smirked. “Okay, then. You hang out there and ghost the place, I’ll go pack.”

  Chapter 4

  Vampire? Dagan ground his teeth at the word. He wasn’t one, at least not in the way books and legends depicted. He could walk in sunlight, into churches. Stakes wouldn’t kill him. His life was eternal.

  But he was a killer, had taken so many lives. Consumed by darkness, the madness taking over, seeking, always searching…

  Bodies writhing in blood, he drank deeper and harder until every last drop was drained. And, still, the thirst gripped him…

  Jolting free from those crippling memories, his emotions locked down, he made his call. He hadn’t bothered about the surveillance cameras on this floor since he’d already hazed them all the moment he entered the building.

  Hedori answered on the second ring. “Sire? How may I help?”

  He pulled his gaze away from the empty staircase Shae had gone up. “I need the Ford here. Park behind The Tower.” He reeled off the address. “And come up to the penthouse floor.”

  “Be there in a flash.”

  Dagan slipped his cell back into his pocket. Yeah, the Empyrean would be here in a flash. Literally. He, fortunately, could transport anything with his abilities.

  Unlike Dagan. He couldn’t dematerialize large, non-organic things. It was why he needed the truck to cart Shae’s luggage. Besides, he liked driving, and it cleared his head, something he needed right now.

  He studied the flickering mystical wards keeping him from entering the apartment. Shae, it appeared, had no idea about the protection spell. He could break through, painful and doable, but that would only alert whoever had put them up in the first place. Since creating wards wasn’t something he did, he left it to the Empyrean who was ace in building the defense layers.

  A few minutes later, the elevator opened. Hedori stepped out and strode toward him, his gaze already shifting to the doorway, clearly sensing the ward. “Shall I undo it?”

  “Yes. But once we’re done, put it up again.”

  Hedori nodded.

  “One other thing, can you get me more smokes?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said, his focus on the doorway. As Hedori set to work using intricate hand movements and murmuring soft words he didn’t catch—mostly because he wasn’t interested—Dagan waited impatiently, his gaze back on the stairs Shae’d gone up. He didn’t like the idea of her alone up there while he was stuck out in the corridor.

  Whoever had put the wards up seemed determined to keep immortals away because only humans could cross the threshold. “How much longer?”

  Hedori didn’t respond. A minute passed, then several more, before he lowered his hands. “It’s done.”

  Dagan entered the penthouse. The place screamed opulence. He hadn’t pegged the hellcat as one to like this kind of overdone abundance when she dressed in battered boots and simple clothing. But what did he know?

  He jogged upstairs and followed her light, tantalizing scent down the hallway until he found her in the last bedroom, pulling out a froth of silky things from a drawer.

  “The door’s there for a reason.”

  He ignored her tart comment and strolled around the huge, lavish bedroom, stopping at the window overlooking the park. He leaned against the windowsill and watched her pack. She pulled out a…he peered at the name—Dextrose pack—from the bedside drawer and tossed them into her suitcase on the bed.

  “What’s that?”

  “For my low blood sugar.”

  He frowned. He hadn’t smelled any illness on her. “You’re sick?”

  Those stormy grays snapped back to him. A feminine eyebrow rose in a taunt. “Why? You gonna use your superpowers and cure me now?”

  He merely stared at her. She rolled her eyes and dropped a pile of clothes in a case. “I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t sure what exactly went on with that since immortals didn’t get sick. “Is it a risk factor?”

  A long, drawn-out sigh followed, like he’d asked her the fate of the universe. He waited.

  “Depends on how you look at it. As long as I have my meals regularly and this close”—she pulled out the pack of Dextrose she’d thrown in her suitcase and waved it at him—“I’m good. So, no worries that I’ll be dropping in a dead faint at your feet.”

  “Good to know,” he drawled. “Who else lives here?”

  A shrug. “Uncle Lem. He’s at work, late-night conference call. Then there’s the chef and maids, but they don’t live here.”

  “Your parents?”

  “My dad died several years ago.” A flash of pain crossed her face and disappeared just as fast. “Mom took off earlier this year. Wanted her own life.”

  Bitterness laced her tone as she zipped her luggage. She shouldered her knapsack, grabbed her jacket from the bed, and headed for the door, dragging the single suitcase behind her.

  He frowned, following her. “Is this all you’re taking?”

  “I’m leaving for a few days, not a vacation. I have everything I need until this mess is sorted out.”

  Guess she’d learn differently soon enough. Dagan took the bag and knapsack from her. Her mouth opened then closed. The hellcat, speechless? That was a first.

  Yeah, he may be a bastard, but he did have some chivalrous qualities…when he remembered.

  She put on her jacket, slid her hands into the pockets and frowned. “My cell, d
id you see it?”

  He retrieved it from his back pocket and handed it over. “You dropped it outside the club.”

  “Thanks.”

  In the living room, she got a pen and a sheet of paper from a drawer in the small table there and jotted a note. He could easily read it despite standing a few feet away.

  Uncle Lem, I’m taking off for a few days. Work. Forgot to tell you earlier.

  Will call you soon.

  Shae.

  Nothing to worry about there, he let it go.

  She put the folded paper against the small vase on the table just as the Empyrean entered.

  “Hedori?” Confusion crossed her expressive face. “I didn’t know you were here, too.”

  “I was in town, thought I’d give you a hand with the luggage,” he covered smoothly.

  “Thanks, but I’m all set, just one teeny-tiny case,” she said smiling.

  Dagan followed her outside, and needing her distracted while Hedori put the wards back up, he said, “Here are the rules while living at the castle. You cannot just up and run back to the penthouse or anywhere you like. You cannot—”

  “Whoa, hold it!” A flash of temper brightened her eyes. “Who died and made you my keeper?”

  He lifted an eyebrow, didn’t bother to point out that he’d just saved her ungrateful hide. But she seemed to get the message when her seductive mouth became a thin, unhappy line. He continued, “Do anything I don’t approve of, I will lock you back in the basement.”

  Her delicate jaw tightened. “God, you’re such an arrogant butthead!”

  He rested a shoulder against a marble pillar, and found himself holding back a smile. “None would dare call me that to my face.”

  “You’d probably beat the crap out of them.”

  “No. I’d just kill them.”

  Her lips wavered, almost in a smile, then pressed back into an annoyed line. Hedori nodded from behind her. Dagan drawled, “Glad we got that cleared up. Let’s go.”

  She wheeled around and stomped back to lock up, but his heightened hearing caught her soft mutter. “You’re a damn pain in my ass.”

  Naturally, his gaze slid lower to said behind. He had to stifle the urge to slide his palms over those tempting mounds. His hand tightened on her luggage instead.

  Penthouse secured, she stalked past him, and as they entered the elevator, he said, “Pain in the ass or not, I’m all you have right now, little girl.”

  “Little girl?” The scowl returned. She stabbed a finger at the button for the ground floor. “I’m nearly twenty-five.”

  “So?” He leaned against the metal wall as the doors slid shut.

  “So? What do you mean so?” Those feline-tipped eyes glowered fiercely. His entire nonchalant attitude appeared to rub her the wrong way. Something he couldn’t help but savor when around her.

  His gaze drifted over her striking features, spotting twin splashes of red on her cheekbones. Hell, if he was honest, her compressed lips made him want to slowly suck them back to a quivering softness. Instead, he lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “I call it as I see it. The scratching, the biting, need I go on?”

  “God!” She spun away and glared at the receding floor numbers on the side panel, one booted foot tapping impatiently. “Can’t you go any damn faster?” she growled at the elevator. The door glided open, and she stormed out.

  Mission accomplished, he thought wryly, following her. At least she hadn’t panicked from claustrophobia and let loose her abilities while trapped in a confined space. He frowned. Powers it appeared she had no idea she possessed. He grabbed her arm when she headed for the front of the building. “Not that way. Back entrance.”

  Pulling free, she marched in the opposite direction. Moments later, he stepped out into the cool alley, scanned the street, and found the double-cab, elevated truck parked a short distance from The Tower.

  Dagan dropped her bag and knapsack onto the back seat. An icy sensation crawled over his skin, followed by a bile-inducing sulfuric stink. He wheeled around, pushing Shae behind him.

  “Hey—” A sharp gasp followed, then she whispered, “What is that?”

  Yeah, she’d sensed it, too. “Trouble.”

  * * *

  Shae cautiously examined the shadowy backstreet. The dim lamp affixed to the looming building cast a small circle of light over the back entrance. The prickles on her nape grew. Familiar with this eerie sensation, she knew what it meant. Demons.

  “Maybe they’re the Earth ones?” God, she hoped so. This night was turning out to be the third worst of her life.

  “No.”

  One single word, and her shaky hope crumbled. A smoky shimmer in the night air caught her attention, and a sword took form in Dagan’s left hand. Strange symbols glowed briefly on the black blade. If she hadn’t believed he was immortal before, she sure did now. Heck, in a dark street, none would know he palmed a deadly weapon. But his eyes, they blazed like a predator’s in the night.

  Two figures stepped out of the gloom, their irises sparking red. “Give us the girl,” one of them lisped, stopping several feet away.

  At the guttural demand, fear swamped her. Crap, she didn’t have her blade with her—wait, she had the other one, but she kept that in her knapsack. Then everything happened as if in fast-forward. Dagan leaped at the demons, sword swinging. He decapitated one. The head fell with a sickening thud to the asphalt and rolled toward her. Her heart in her mouth, she jumped back as the body and head shriveled and vanished.

  The remaining demon’s hand glowed red. “Did you think we’d come in pairs?” He flung a deadly hellfire bolt at Dagan.

  “I’m surprised you can think at all.” Dagan ducked the fiery red missile that blasted a dumpster to smithereens. A cacophony erupted. Several more scourges took form, swarming the backstreet like insects, grunts filling the air.

  “You. Come.” A demon darted for her, eyes gleaming like neon red moons.

  “No, you fucking don’t!” Dagan flew in front of her like a deadly force of nature, his hair flying around him like whips. He beheaded the demon with a single swipe of his blade.

  “Get in the truck,” he snapped, pulling her out of her frozen state. He spun back to the remaining demons fanning out.

  Her breath hitching, she smacked a hand on his back. “Give me a switchblade or something. I can’t stand here defenseless.”

  “Don’t have one. Just get in the damn truck!”

  Rely on someone else to keep her ass safe? Not happening. She wasn’t totally helpless. Harvey had been a good teacher.

  Keeping one eye on the fight, she eased backward and opened the truck door. As she reached for her knapsack, a slant of moonlight gleamed off a length of black metal lying on the floorboard. She grabbed it instead—a dagger. Thank God!

  Shae wheeled around, weapon braced. Oh, shit! Her heart thundered in her ears. So many of them surrounded Dagan. He fought hard and bled from several cuts on his biceps. Damn monsters!

  Furious, she darted forward.

  “Shae, get the hell back,” he snarled.

  “No, I can help!”

  A demon flashed in front of her and grabbed her upper arm, grinning like a jackass. “Got you.”

  Teeth gritted at the painful grip, she plunged the blade hard into his ribs. A raucous screech erupted from him, and he punched her in the face.

  Her head snapped back, agony exploding in her skull. Goddamn bastard! Something inside her shifted and crashed, letting loose a storm. Heat exploded like a volcano. A red haze stealing her mind, she dove for the demon.

  In the distance, a terrifying roar filled the alley, like some violent animal set free. “You dare hurt her?”

  Shae barely heard any of it. Feeling as if she’d stepped away from the fight—like she was viewing a fast-moving movie clip—she watched the girl in the darkened backstreet fight. Her features too pale, her red hair streaming out like flames, she whirled and struck, her furious cry erupting in the alley like a death knell. T
he girl shimmered and disappeared…then reappeared behind another demon, her blade flashing before she faded again…

  Shae. A familiar voice slipped into her mind, tugging at her. Follow my voice. You have to come back—c’mon, you can do this.

  She latched on to the compelling tone and slammed back into cognizance. And swayed. Strong arms grabbed her.

  “Are you okay?”

  Inhaling harsh gasps of air, she became aware of her surroundings, of how dark and silent the place was. Not even a stray cat skulked. She twisted in Dagan’s arms, her gaze darting around and settling on the pile of disintegrating bodies, then lowered to the dripping, bloodied dagger she still clutched.

  Oh, dear God! What had she done? Trembling like a blade of grass, she flung the weapon away. Her terrified gaze rushed to him. “I killed them—I killed them all.”

  “If you hadn’t, I would have. They were scourges from Hell, death’s always in the cards for them. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” He hurried her to the truck.

  Something warm dripped down her mouth and chin. She dashed it away with a trembling hand and stared blankly at the blood coating her fingers.

  When she couldn’t seem to move, Dagan picked her up and put her on the seat. She bit back a whimper, her entire face aching. Hell, the scar stung viciously like glass slicing her open again.

  Gingerly, she touched the bridge of her throbbing nose. “Oww.”

  He gently removed her hand and held his open palm an inch from her face. A glowing, blue light seeped out. She grasped his thick wrist. “What—”

  “I’m healing you.”

  Oh, right. Warmth tingled through her skin. His eyes glowed brightly, a hint of red seeping into them. She blinked. His gaze lowered, dark lashes shielding his irises.

  Moments later, the ache in her nose and jaw receded. He pulled off his t-shirt and carefully wiped her mouth and chin. Ugh, she must have imagined the red eyes.

  “Keep your head back and hold this under your nose.”

  Inhaling deeply, she did as he instructed. He buckled her in then smoothed a stray strand of hair away from her cheek, startling her. “It’ll be okay.”