Immortal Angel

by Lynsay Sands

  “I was told you had left G.—Joshua with a neighbor and the neighbor brought him home too soon,” Ildaria said as she walked to the bed. Picking up the panties, she stepped into them and pulled them up under the towel as she added, “That is not your fault.”

  “Yes, it was. Obviously I was not clear about how long I needed her to watch Joshua. Unfortunately, I had no idea myself. Robert had said sometimes it took a night, sometimes two or three days, so I was vague with her. That was my second mistake,” she added gravely as Ildaria dropped the towel to don the bra.

  Ildaria had hesitated, briefly debating turning her back to don it, but then she’d decided she was acting like a silly virgin and had decided she would brazen it out. It was just a shame she didn’t feel brazen. She wasn’t used to dressing or undressing in front of anyone. Her grandmother had always been very conservative and given her privacy for dressing once she could manage it on her own. But she’d started this, so she tried to act like it didn’t bother her as she slid her arms into the bra, tugged it into place and then reached behind her back to do it up. She was just finishing doing it up when G.G.’s mother said that about it being the second mistake.

  Turning to her with surprise, she asked, “What was the first?”

  “Robert wanted to take me to his country estate to turn me. But I didn’t want to be that far from Joshua.” Sighing, she confessed, “I was a hovering type mother, always afraid of losing him to some accident like his father. If Robert hadn’t come along when he did, I’m sure Joshua would have ended up a neurotic boy.”

  That idea seemed absurd to Ildaria. She couldn’t imagine G.G. as neurotic. Wouldn’t have happened, she decided.

  “But the point is,” Mary continued, “if I had allowed Robert to take me to the country, Millie, the neighbor, couldn’t have brought Joshua home. He never would have witnessed my turn, and wouldn’t now be refusing to turn.” She shrugged unhappily. “So you see, it is my fault. Not yours. Joshua would already be turned and safe if it were not for my mistakes.”

  Unsure what to say to that, Ildaria concentrated on doing up the buttons of her blouse. It was true that performing the turn at Robert’s country estate would have prevented G.G. from witnessing and being traumatized by it. But she suspected the woman had been flagellating herself for that every day since G.G.’s eighteenth birthday when he’d refused to turn. Ildaria wasn’t one to kick someone when they were down. Besides, her abuela had always said that mistakes were part of living, and the important thing was to learn from the mistakes you made so you didn’t make them twice, and to forgive yourself for those mistakes, as well as others for the mistakes they made. She said not forgiving led to bitterness, and a bitter heart was good for nothing.

  “But I promise you—” Mary caught her hand as she finished with her blouse, capturing her attention along with it. “I promise I will fix this. I will convince Joshua to turn. I couldn’t before, but I can now, and it is only possible because you are his life mate,” she added, a brilliant smile blooming on her face.

  Ildaria stared at her with confusion. “I do not understand. He knows he is my life mate and still refuses. You can’t use that to convince him to agree.”

  “Yes, I can,” she assured her, and then grinned and said, “Because I know something about him very few people do.”

  “What is that?” Ildaria asked with curiosity.

  “As a child, Joshua hated to share his toys,” she announced, her eyes dancing with glee, and then, her tone turning triumphant, she added, “And he is no better at it as an adult.”

  Ildaria still didn’t see how this was going to help them with the matter, but before she could say as much, the woman with black and fuchsia hair appeared in the bedroom door.

  “Hello, Mirabeau, dear,” Mrs. Guiscard greeted her, still smiling widely. “Are the men getting restless?”

  “No,” Mirabeau said, and then grimaced and said, “Well, yes, but that’s not why I came to fetch you.” Taking a breath, she shifted her gaze to Ildaria and said, “Lucian just called. He wants us to bring you to the Enforcer house.”

  “Me?” Ildaria asked with surprise, wondering what she’d done wrong now.

  “Is Villaverde there?” Mrs. Guiscard asked, her hand tightening around Ildaria’s.

  Ildaria turned on her sharply, noting the sudden steel in the woman’s expression.

  “Yes,” Mirabeau said grim-faced. “Apparently, his plane landed shortly after yours. Lucian and Scotty have talked to him and now they want Ildaria there.”

  “Why?” G.G.’s mother asked sharply.

  Mirabeau shook her head. “We don’t know. He just called Tiny and told him that we were to bring her there. When Tiny got off the phone and told us what Lucian had said, Mr. Guiscard, Robert,” she specified since both Robert and G.G. were Mr. Guiscard, “He called Lucian back, but all he could get out of him was that he and Scotty had spoken to Villaverde, but now they need Ildaria there.”

  “Juan’s convinced them to execute me,” Ildaria said, sure that was the only reason they’d want her there.

  “Of course, he hasn’t,” Mrs. Guiscard said at once. “An immortal cannot be executed for biting off another immortal’s bits. Especially when defending themselves against rape. If anything, he should be punished for his behavior.”

  Ildaria turned on her with dismay. “You know about that?”

  Mary patted her hand, sympathetically. “Joshua had to tell Robert everything so that he could convince Scotty to help him help you, and of course he told me.”

  “Oh. Si,” she muttered and wondered that the woman still welcomed her as G.G.’s life mate.

  “What happened was not your fault,” Mary said firmly, pulling her into a hug. “I am proud to have such a brave girl as my daughter-in-law.”

  Ildaria blinked at those words. She and G.G. had not talked about marrying.

  “Perhaps not, but he is definitely planning on it, as he should be,” Mary said with a small smile as she pulled back to meet her gaze. “And I will not let anyone execute my future daughter. Besides, there is nothing to execute you for. Villaverde was the one at fault for what happened.”

  “But he is the head of the South American Council,” Ildaria reminded her. “A powerful man. While I am just a peasant. They will not punish him,” she predicted bitterly.

  “You are not a peasant,” Mary exclaimed with outrage. “And as the head of the Council, Villaverde should be above reproach. In fact, I do not know how someone like that could have gained the position of head of the Council. The other Council members would not put up with a leader who rapes children and forces their poorer people out of their homes.”

  “And yet he does, and they do not protest,” Ildaria assured her.

  “Yes, well, not for long if Lucian and Scotty have any say in it, I assure you. They’ll call a summit of Council leaders to have him removed if necessary. And if they don’t, Robert will,” Mrs. Guiscard said firmly. She held Ildaria’s gaze for a minute, and then frowned. “You don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

  “I believe you believe that,” Ildaria said solemnly.

  “I guess that will have to do for now,” Mary said with a faint smile, and then sighed and shook her head. “I suppose we might as well go and see what the men want, get this business over with so you can relax and know you’re safe.”

  Releasing her hands, Mrs. Guiscard started toward Mirabeau, leaving her to follow, but Ildaria hesitated. She didn’t want to go. She had no desire to be anywhere near Juan Villaverde. However, one look at Mirabeau’s face told her that the woman would drag her there if necessary. She would carry out Lucian’s orders.

  Sighing in resignation, Ildaria followed G.G.’s mother to the door, very aware of the way Mirabeau took up position at her side as they walked down the hall.

  G.G., Robert, and Tiny were all waiting in the living room when they came out. Ildaria paused just inside the doorway when she saw that G.G. was wearing his T-shirt again. The T-shirt she’
d stripped off and left lying on the bathroom floor. “How did you—?”

  “I brought it out to him while you were showering,” G.G.’s mother explained, apparently reading her thoughts.

  “Oh.” Ildaria smiled at her faintly and then glanced around with surprise when someone took her arm. It was G.G. He’d crossed the room to her and his hand was warm through her blouse, causing a slight tingle, but not the crazy passion that it had earlier when he’d touched her, she noted with confusion.

  “Touching through clothing mutes the effects of the nanos,” Mirabeau said helpfully. “But try to avoid bare skin to skin contact. At least, until you’re alone. And that includes hand holding unless one of you is wearing gloves.”

  “Good to know. Thanks,” G.G. said, but his gaze was on Ildaria and full of concern. She wasn’t at all surprised when he asked, “Are you okay about this? We can tell them to go to hell if you want and refuse to go.”

  “Josh,” Robert said in a warning tone.

  Ildaria blinked in surprise at the name. It just sounded so odd to hear G.G. called that. Between Lucian, G.G.’s mother, and her own thoughts, she was used to Joshua, but this was the first time she’d heard him called Josh out loud.

  “Angel?” G.G. asked, ignoring his father.

  “I don’t think we have much choice,” Ildaria said finally.

  G.G. didn’t look pleased, but he nodded grimly and promised, “I won’t leave your side.”

  “Neither will I,” Robert assured her, some of the tension leaving him now that he knew they wouldn’t refuse to go. “I will be right there with you both. I will not let anything happen to you. Anything at all,” he stressed firmly, and then added, “But this is why we are here, to deal with the matter, and I trust Lucian and Scotty. If they think you need to be there, there is a reason for it.”

  Ildaria didn’t know this Scotty person, but she did know Lucian. He had been nothing but fair with her about the incidents at the university here in Toronto, and more than fair about her vigilante activities in Montana. He could have had her executed twice now and hadn’t. She would just have to hope that fairness continued in this instance.

  Straightening her shoulders, she nodded. “Let’s get it over with then.”

  Fourteen

  They were halfway to the Enforcer house before Ildaria noticed that she wasn’t wearing any shoes. She also hadn’t put on stockings or even brushed her hair, she realized. She supposed the hair was forgivable; she was stressed out and anxious about meeting the man who had hunted and haunted her for two hundred years. But she had to wonder how she could have left her apartment, walked out to the car and got in without stockings or shoes on.

  “I’m sorry,” Mirabeau said suddenly from the front passenger seat. “I was so busy watching to be sure Villaverde hadn’t sent his men to snatch you in transit, that I didn’t notice what you were or weren’t wearing.”

  Ildaria glanced at her with surprise at the comment. The woman had obviously read her mind again, but had no need to apologize for not noticing her barefoot state. She herself couldn’t have said what Mirabeau was wearing on her feet right now. She just didn’t look at people’s feet very often and doubted if many people did. Besides, this situation was a tense one. She, G.G., and his parents were all very worried about the coming meeting, and the Enforcers were all concerned about watching for possible attacks. Ildaria wasn’t surprised that none of them had noticed she was shoeless.

  “No bare skin to bare skin,” Mirabeau said suddenly and Ildaria followed the Enforcer’s gaze to where G.G.’s hand now hovered over hers. Obviously, he’d been about to hold her hand to offer her comfort and been stopped just before clasping it. Now he rubbed her arm there through her blouse instead. Ildaria smiled at him in gratitude, but it really didn’t have as much impact as his holding her hand would have had.

  “Here.”

  She and G.G. shifted their attention to Mirabeau to see her holding out a pair of gloves. They were bright blue and made up of some kind of thin material, either rubber or silicone, it looked to her. Obviously meant for the Enforcers to use when cleaning up blood or any other wet work they encountered.

  G.G. accepted the gloves and managed, with some effort, to pull one on over his large left hand. He then reached out and clasped her ungloved hand, his fingers threading with hers.

  “Sam will have shoes at the house you can borrow,” Mirabeau said now.

  “Shoes?” G.G. peered down at her feet, and then back up to her face with amazement. “We forgot your shoes.”

  Ildaria smiled at the “we,” as if it was his responsibility to see she had shod feet. “It’s fine,” she assured him, and then asked Mirabeau, “You don’t happen to have a brush, do you?” Glancing to G.G. she added, “I forgot to brush my hair too.”

  “Your hair looks beautiful,” G.G. assured her.

  Ildaria doubted that, but didn’t say as much and simply looked back to Mirabeau hopefully.

  “No,” the woman said apologetically. “I don’t fuss much with my hair when on the job.”

  “Like you, Beau’s a natural beauty and doesn’t need to fuss,” Tiny said, meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror, and then added, “You look good. You have that sexy tousled look going on.”

  Ildaria smiled at him for the kind words.

  “Crap,” G.G. said suddenly and pulled out his cell phone.

  “What is it?” Ildaria asked with concern.

  “I forgot about H.D.,” he muttered, thumbing through his contacts. “I should have let him out to relieve himself before we left. I’ll just call Sofia and ask her to do it now and to keep an eye on him while we’re gone.”

  “She doesn’t have keys to my place,” Ildaria told him with a frown.

  “Damn,” G.G. breathed, pausing with his thumb hovering over the phone face as he considered the problem, and then he nodded. “I’ll have her grab my spare keys out of my office. There’s a master key on it that opens every door. She can use that. If that’s okay with you?” he added, giving her the opportunity to say no.

  “Of course,” Ildaria said at once. “We can’t just leave the little guy there alone and hungry.” Clucking her tongue with irritation, she added, “I can’t believe we forgot about him.”

  G.G. smiled faintly at her using “we” too, and then finished placing the call and raised the phone to his ear.

  Ildaria listened absently as he spoke to Sofia, but her attention was on the road. They were close to the Enforcer house now. In just minutes she would be facing Juan. Ildaria would rather face a hundred Enforcers out for her blood than this man. She liked to think she was brave and strong, but when it came to Juan Villaverde, she was still that confused and terrified fourteen-year-old girl trembling and weeping on her knees, and he was the boogeyman.

  Disgusted with herself, Ildaria sat up straight and lifted her chin. Screw him. She wasn’t that child anymore, and he wasn’t the boogeyman, and if the bastard tried anything, she’d bite his dick off again, and maybe cut his head off too . . . if she could get her hands on a weapon. And if Lucian or someone else didn’t stop her.

  Ildaria rolled her eyes at her own thoughts and told herself to focus on tomorrow. By tomorrow at this time, this ordeal, whatever it was, would be over and she would either be dead or back at her apartment, cuddled on the couch with G.G. and H.D., watching a movie, or passed out on the floor after making love, or in the office at work, or entertaining his parents.

  That thought made her wonder when his parents were leaving, and then she turned in her seat to peer out the back window to make sure the second SUV that Mary and Robert were traveling in was behind them. Lucian had sent Tybo and Valerian to collect G.G.’s parents and bring them too.

  Ildaria had just spotted the second vehicle when her body swayed to the side as the SUV Tiny was driving turned. She immediately swung back around to see that they were pulling into the driveway to the Enforcer house.

  Grinding her teeth, Ildaria felt herself separating somew
hat from her emotions in preparation for what was coming. It was an automatic reaction to stressful situations, and one she only became aware of a few decades ago. It was like she had an emotional disconnect button. It allowed her to stick her steel heel through a man’s face or groin without hesitation or guilt, and do whatever else was necessary to survive.

  “Here we are.”

  Ildaria didn’t respond to Mirabeau’s comment as Tiny brought the SUV to a halt in front of the Enforcer house a few moments later. She was looking out the back window, watching the Enforcers that guarded the gate run a mirror on a stick under the SUV G.G.’s parents were in as it sat idling between the inner and outer gate. It was the same search they had endured on arriving. She knew they would be through and parking next to them momentarily, but had no intention of getting out until they did. She wanted all of them with her when she entered to face the lion.

  Tiny and Mirabeau got out of the front seat, and moved to stand by her door, but didn’t open it. She supposed they’d read her mind and were willing to wait for the others to join them.

  “Tiny left the keys in the ignition. We could still make a run for it.”

  Ildaria shifted her gaze to G.G. at that comment, a small smile breaking the tension that had been pulling at the muscles of her face as warmth swam up through her. “I love you.”

  The words just slid out, wholly unexpected, even by Ildaria. They stared at each other in surprise, but then G.G.’s surprise faded under certainty and he said in his deep rumble, “I love you too, Angel.”

  They swayed toward each other, but before their lips could meet, Ildaria’s door was yanked open, and she was caught under the arms and dragged out of the car.

  “No bare skin to skin,” Mirabeau reminded her with amusement as she set her on her feet.

  “We were just going to kiss,” Ildaria protested with exasperation.

  “Lips are bare skin,” Mirabeau pointed out as G.G. followed her out of the SUV, looking perturbed. “You would not believe the number of passed-out half or wholly naked immortals Marguerite had littering her house and grounds the last time she had a New Year’s Eve party, and all because of the tradition of a kiss to ring in the new year. For new life mates, kissing invariably ends in sex.”