by Sarah Gilman
“Yes. They avoid it with as much enthusiasm as they avoid lightning storms. But, a few decades ago, an archangel in Canada’s demon colony tried to rescue a civilian demon caught in a flash flood and ended up in the water herself. The archangel’s Guardian wouldn’t have been able to haul her out of there if he’d been only a mediocre swimmer.”
Jett shut his eyes and nodded.
“Also, we can’t put it past poachers to use water to their advantage. Anyone seeking to harm archangels or demons will utilize water if they have the opportunity. It’s an element you need to master.” Devin bent and retrieved an object from the floor of the boat. The small, round capsule lit up with blue light. He tossed it into the water, and it sank. “Fetch!”
After hours in the lake, Jett sat on the rocks high above the shore, naked to the waist, toweling himself. The sun had risen high, warming his skin, necessitating sunglasses. Devin had disappeared into the archangel house after announcing that Vin was on his way to lead a session.
He stared at his hand, where Lexine had bitten him weeks before. The marks had faded, but like their kiss, he still felt the moist heat of her. Felt her both shudder and hold him tight.
He had to touch her again. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself. The sooner the better, if he wanted any level of control at all.
“Morning, Guardian.” Footsteps on the rocks accompanied the rustle of feathers.
Jett ran the towel over his hair. “Never, ever, go near the water for any reason.”
Raphael laughed. “Have fun this morning?”
“Devin sure knows how to have a good time.”
“Once in the water was enough for me, don’t worry. Years ago, Lark insisted on a water lesson to learn some tricks to help keep myself alive if a real situation arose.”
“Where is Lark?” Jett scanned the trees.
“He’s never far, but he keeps as much distance as he can, as often as he can. As grateful as I am for the Guardians, twenty-four-hour protection can be a difficult thing.”
“I know what it’s like to always have someone watching.” Jett fought the deep urge to cover himself with the towel, the memories crawling over his skin like insects. “I don’t think a single second of my life in the lab wasn’t monitored and recorded.”
Raphael flicked his wings. After a pause, he said, “When you have a break in your training, you should go to the town hall, second floor. You’ll find an office on the far side of the atrium. The guard knows to let you in.”
Jett cocked his head. “Whose office?”
“Dante’s.”
“My father’s?” He wiped his clammy hands on the towel.
“It’s there whenever you’re ready. He founded Sanctuary and personally trained all the Guardians who protected it until his death. He wrote everything down, and as part of your training, you need to read his original words. His journals and other personal effects are there, too.”
Jett chewed the tip of his tongue between his incisors, making his mouth moist enough to speak. “Thank you—”
A feminine shriek split the air and grew louder. A shadow shot across the ground, accompanied by wind. Wren careened overhead. The pseudoterrified scream from the woman in his arms broke up into laughter as they disappeared over the trees.
“Is that safe?” Jett got to his feet, staring in the direction the young couple had disappeared. The worst-case scenario played through his mind. If poachers invaded the forest, both Wren and Ginger could be killed with one well-aimed bullet. So quick. “Where are the twins?”
Raphael stretched his wings, the pure-white feathers blinding in the sunlight. “Devin is upstairs with the twins, and Wren is a strong flier. What good is flight if you only use it to go from point A to point B?”
“If poachers—”
“Lark is in the forest. He has our trust, as do you.”
With that, the archangel beat his wings in furious movement and leaped off the rocks. He skimmed the water before rising into the air and vanishing over the opposite side of the lake.
Jett shook his head, his chest constricting, the tightness suffocating. The archangels would be safest inside, but what were they fighting for, if not the freedom to live, really live? Jett would be the last person to force them into another prison.
Perhaps the hardest part of being their Guardian would be accepting that he couldn’t protect them from everything.
…
Lexine wandered through the winery, a glorified barn on the edge of the apple orchard. Clean and weather-tight, the scent of apples permeated the small building. The heirloom varieties used for winemaking had ripened the week before, and she had occupied her time picking. Crates of the fruit lined the wall, ready to go.
She climbed the stairs to the second level, a single space like the first floor. The wine bottles that Jac reused every year were reposed in boxes.
Hmm. If she relocated the glassware, this would make an elegant studio apartment. The construction on the new residence building was underway, and she wasn’t impatient. This place, however, suited her better than the communal residences. Quiet. Sunshine. Located on a hilltop, the view from one window looked out over the orchard while the other showcased a sweeping panorama of the lake. As she stared, the white wings of one of the archangels streaked beneath the morning clouds.
Thanks to the winemaking needs, the building had plumbing and a small bathroom on the first floor. Not very girl friendly, but she could make it work.
Staring out the window, her fingers idly tracing a knot in the wood, she spotted Jett walking on the path below. What was he doing here? She lifted her fingertips to her lips.
She knew the expectations of a Guardian in training—total focus and almost impossible physical tasks—so she’d kept her distance. As she’d expected, he hadn’t sought her out, either. When she’d glimpsed him now and then, he was either in the lake, high in the trees, or covered in mud and bleeding, Devin nipping at his heels.
Jett stopped at the edge of the lawn and glanced up. He wore sunglasses against the bright morning glare, but with a shiver, she felt his gaze connect with hers. After a moment of stillness, he headed for the entry.
Cursing the lack of a mirror, she smoothed her hair and rushed downstairs.
Jett entered the winery, shutting the door behind himself. Clean and dressed in Guardian black, he removed his sunglasses. “Good morning, Lexine. I was told I’d find you up here.”
Casual words, but a far from casual tone. He spoke in a voice most would reserve for candlelit bedrooms.
She licked her lips. “I was getting a look at my new place.”
“You’re going to stay here?” He leaned against the lacquered pine wall, feet crossed at the ankles, hands in his pockets, staring at her. She caught a glimpse of the twin blades strapped to his waist, the idea of how dangerous and capable he was, an unusual thrill. She’d only ever dated civilians, and even the one who thought he was all big and bad lacked the power Jett commanded in his gaze alone.
“Yes. So,” she said, unsure what to do under the intensity of his stare, “they gave you a break?”
“Yes, but with an ulterior motive. Sometime tonight I start sparring with Lark.” His gaze stayed locked on her, traveling down her body and up again ever so slowly, his tone disinterested in his words.
“Sometime?” She wiped her clammy palms on her jeans.
“The point is to try to catch me off guard.”
Lexine shivered and glanced around.
“I was promised the daylight hours to myself.” His lips twitched. “There’re a few things I’ve been meaning to do.”
“Oh?” She knew her nonchalant attempt failed when his smile broadened, the expression sinful and full of promise.
She gave herself a mental slap. The raw, sexual vibe coming off him promised that this could get out of hand. Far out of hand. She needed to rein this in. Despite her desperate dating habits in the past, she’d never gotten sexually involved with a male without the hope of a
committed relationship.
Since he’d started training, she’d slept without the recurring the dream. His decision to become a Guardian to the archangels must have changed their future.
But what was the harm? Her previous relationships hadn’t worked out, despite all their sweet promises. Once, she’d been flat-out used and left, after all the empty words he’d sung to get her naked. She would have picked up on his game sooner, but she’d been blinded by the fear of her then-recently-begun nightmares and the need to cling to a demon male. Any demon male. At least she knew where she stood with Jett. No promises, just the present. And the heat in his gaze was no lie.
She hadn’t been able to put their first kisses out of her mind.
Her hesitation must have shown on her face. His voice quiet, but no less intense, he said, “You set the pace, Lex. But not seeing you for two weeks might have driven me mad.”
She flushed at his first use of her shortened name.
“May I call you Lex?”
“Absolutely.”
He stalked forward and took her hand. His intensely sexual tone persisted as he murmured, “May I be blunt?”
“Sure.”
“You’ve lost weight these past two weeks. Have you been well?”
“I haven’t had much of an appetite. But I’m fine. It’s getting better as time passes.”
“That’s good.” He cocked his head. “I was on my way to find something to eat. Will you join me?”
Perfect. A way to keep this under control but still share his company. “Absolutely.”
They made their way down the path to the village. Around the cluster of wood-and-stone buildings in the center of the colony, nothing moved except for the two of them, most of the residents inside for the daylight hours. The scent of baking bread and seasonings drifted through the air from the tavern—which the owner, her cousin, Gregory, had named The Ninth Circle. Smartass. Lexine smiled whenever she saw the sign, which hung above the door, complete with a little red devil and pitchfork.
Jett led her inside, a hand on her lower back.
Gory lounged behind the bar, watching a human news program on the wall-mounted television. The bald demon grinned and lifted his fingers in greeting. “Help yourselves. Got your favorite out today, Lexi.”
“Thanks. What’s going on in the world?” Steam rose from a mug in front of a Guardian, the only individual at the bar. Though most of the colonists stayed in their homes during the day, the Guardians on day shifts frequented The Ninth Circle. Since she also worked during the day, Lexine stopped by often, as did many single demons, and the archangels. Today was quieter than usual, the colony still adjusting after the recent attacks.
Gory shook his head. “War, bad politics, and celebrity scandals. What else?”On the serving counter, the small daytime spread included soups and warm breads. A cooler offered sandwiches and pasta salads. Lexine took a bowl of corn chowder and a wheat roll to a table that had a chair in a beam of sunlight. Jett settled opposite her with the potato bisque, a turkey sandwich, and two rolls. They ate for a moment in comfortable silence.
She chewed her lower lip. “Hmm.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No. This is just so…normal. Seeing you makes me feel like we should be rushing off on some emergency.”
He grinned, though his eyes seemed sad. “I’m sorry we met under extreme circumstances. How’s Bryce?”
“He’s had a few nightmares, but otherwise, he’s doing well.”
“Good.” He leaned back in the chair and leveled his dark crimson gaze on her. “How have your dreams been, Lexine?”
“Um…” She shoveled some chowder into her mouth to buy a moment to choose her words. She settled on the simple truth: “I’ve had no dreams these last two weeks, at least, none that I remembered when I woke.”
“No poacher?”
“No poacher.” She kept her gaze on the soup, hoping she didn’t look too guilty.
“Excellent.” He reached across the table and rested his fingers on hers. “I’m sorry I disappeared for two weeks. This training—”
“Don’t worry. I understand, and I respect what you’re doing. Mostly, I’m glad you’re not going back to the woods.”
He scoffed. “I wouldn’t have gone back to the woods after meeting you.”
Her heart hammered.
“I still want to get to know you, whether the time is easily won or not.” He drew circles on the back of her hand. “I agreed to train on the condition that my life was still my own and my personal decisions still mine to make. It’s not fair of me to ask, considering how little time I’ll have to offer, but I want to spend my free moments with you. Are you willing to give it a try?”
She smiled and grasped his hand, but cautioned herself. Just a try. In all reality, seeing him only once in a while wasn’t something she wanted. She craved companionship, and despite the way she responded to Jett’s every touch and glance, she wouldn’t be happy with this arrangement long term. Also, as a Guardian standing directly between poachers and the archangels, she’d worry. And worry and worry. Perhaps telling him no would be smart, but the word refused to form on her lips.
Try.
“I’d love to.”
He kissed her fingers, stood, and made quick work of clearing the table. “The day’s wasting.”
“Yes. Can I make a request?”
“Sure.”
“You lived all these months in the woods. Show me where?”
He glanced away. “Why?”
“Because it was your home.”
“I suppose it was.”
“More of a home than you’ve had in a long time.”
“True enough.” He didn’t sound convinced. “It’s nothing worth seeing, though.”
“I want to see what you did with the freedom you’re always griping about,” she said, smiling. “I want to know more about you, not what others forced you to be.”
“It’s not far from the scene of the murders.”
“Oh.” She should have realized that—how else had Jett found the humans faster than the Guardians? She’d been hoping to never venture into that area—Jett read her well. But she refused to back down. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“I prefer ‘determined,’ and don’t be a hypocrite. It doesn’t suit you.”
He smiled, the effect so bright it reminded her of sunshine glinting on the lake after the ice finally breaks in the spring. “Okay, Lexine, let’s go for a walk. Just remember it was your idea.”
Chapter Thirteen
Abandoning Sanctuary’s groomed trails just beyond the cemetery, Jett led Lexine through the forest, the elevation steadily climbing. Neither of them said much—their first priority was listening for unwelcome company as they ventured farther out. As he’d observed the colony that year, he noted that Guardians and civilians alike treated the woods with respectful caution, the way a human would walk into a large, silent cathedral that might be empty or might not, and any sound would fill the space. Even children fell silent without being told.
Never before had he observed his own kind. Lawrence had described aggressive, hot-tempered beasts. In reality, most were like Jett: they preferred quiet and peace to disruption of any kind.
“Did my father have trouble getting demons to form a colony?”
“No, why?”
He stepped over a fallen, broken branch, making no sound. “It seems to me being out here, alone, is more natural for us.”
“Devin and Lark haven’t taught you any history?”
“Not yet.”
She ran her fingers over the bark of a thick pine. “Demons have been on earth for thousands of years, mostly in North America because there were far fewer humans here at the time, plenty of uninterrupted forest. We had no trouble with the Native Americans and rarely interacted with the archangels. You’re right, we weren’t as sociable a society then, but we weren’t loners, either. Young adult demons left their parents an
d searched the woods until they found mates. Couples were then as they are now—bonded for life and inseparable. Adult demons who didn’t find mates eventually died, the loneliness the root of a physical disease that hasn’t been seen since the colonies formed.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“How did they find one another? The forest was a lot bigger then than it is now.”
“An ability that has all but disappeared in generations like mine, but it’s said to remain strong in those with a Guardian bloodline. I bet you had little trouble finding us even though you were on foot in the woods, right?”
He paused, recalling the turmoil of his thoughts during that trip. Free for the first time, but with no place to go. Hatred for Lawrence, concern and loyalty toward Raphael. Despite everything, he’d crossed the state and gone directly to the colony, never once losing his way. “I sensed it, somehow.”
“Exactly, and I’m sure Lark or Devin will explain it better. Anyway, the growing number of human European settlers drove us to work together as a community. The violence aside, it’s been a good thing and everyone agrees.”
“Why not form communities long before that?”
“Change needed the catalyst. Like you said, it’s in our nature to be out here, alone—well, almost alone.” She brushed her fingers over his arm, the fleeting contact a tease that made him reach out. She hooked her arm around his and they kept walking.
Jett breathed easier than he ever had before.
He avoided the easiest route—the rough path which Jac had taken the kids along—and followed a small brook. When the terrain leveled off he turned south, along the mountain instead of up it. After an hour, they passed above the murder scene, hidden beyond the trees, though the faint scent of blood lingered when the breeze blew just right. Lexine’s shoulders stiffened and she gripped his arm tighter.
“Just a little farther,” Jett said. “Have you been up here before?”
“Not since I was little, like Bryce, when they first start teaching us tracking and other forest skills.”
Tension filled her voice. Why had she insisted on coming to this place? What was she expecting to find at his camp? At least there was one thing worth the trip. “Wait till you see the view.”
