Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES)

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Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES) Page 3

by Meljean Brook


  And he was walking toward her.

  A panicked laugh gurgled up her throat. She swallowed it before a sound emerged. Michael was in her head, so he had to know she was scared, but she refused to show it.

  She focused on his eyes instead. They were pure obsidian—no whites, no irises—but that was normal, not frightening. Michael’s eyes had often looked like that before he’d sacrificed himself.

  “Okay. Hi.” She raised her hand in greeting. “I’m glad you’re looking at least a little human again.”

  His smile revealed two rows of sharpened teeth and pointed fangs. Oh, God. Not normal.

  “Human again.” He spoke with exaggerated care, as if tasting each syllable against those razored teeth. “Andromeda.”

  Another tremor of fear rattled her. That wasn’t Michael at all. Not the one she knew. His voice usually created a beautiful harmony, like a chorus of voices singing together. Now there was only one voice. Dark and hollow, like the echo from an abyss.

  He continued walking toward her. Thirty feet away. Coming closer.

  “Okay, that’s close enough.” And when he didn’t even slow down, fear ratcheted up to terror, shaking through her. “Michael, stop!”

  He didn’t. She called in her gun from her hammerspace. Her clammy palms felt slick on the grip, but she held the pistol steady and aimed at his forehead.

  A bullet to the brain wouldn’t kill him. But it’d drop him to the ground for a few minutes.

  He still didn’t stop.

  “No, Michael. Just stay there.” She didn’t want to shoot him, but he had to know she would. “We can talk with this distance between us. So just stop. And listen. The Guardians need you back on Earth.”

  He was still coming, still smiling. “You need me?”

  “Yeah. Caelum has fallen apart.” The Guardians’ realm lay broken, nothing but piles of shattered marble where a beautiful city had once stood. “Khavi says it’s because you were tortured, but that you can put it back together by singing or something.”

  With a forefinger tipped by a sharp talon, he touched the center of his forehead. “Caelum isn’t here anymore.”

  He wasn’t linked to the realm anymore? Great. “Okay. But there’s more. The spell that broke you out of the frozen field strengthened the barrier between Hell and the Chaos realm, but Khavi still sees Lucifer finding his way into Chaos. And from Chaos, into Earth. If he does that, he’ll bring along dragons and who knows what else. We can kill one or two dragons, but more? God knows how many people might die. So we could really use your help back on Earth. But to do that, you need to return to your body.”

  “What help would that be? A dragon could kill me in that body. One has killed me before.”

  “Well, yeah. But that’s what Guardians do, right? We try to help people even if it’s dangerous. And you set that standard, so you don’t get to wimp out on us now.” Thousands of years ago, sacrificing himself to kill a dragon was why the angels had offered him the powers of a Guardian. That was Michael, the big damn hero. But this was a different Michael—and he was only ten feet away. “You have to stop now. I don’t like the way you’re smiling. I don’t like the way you sound, and you’re scaring the shit out of me. One more step and I’m shooting a ball of lead through your skull.”

  He stepped, damn him. Taylor fired.

  She barely felt the recoil. The report cracked in her ears—followed by a dull clink! The bullet flattened against the scales armoring his forehead and fell to the sand.

  Michael didn’t even flinch. His long stride never faltered.

  “Oh, shit,” she whispered, and stumbled back against the boulder again.

  The cotton of her T-shirt felt damp, and her pistol slick in her grip. God. Guardians didn’t perspire except under severe emotional distress, but sweat was practically squirting from her pores.

  This was extreme fucking distress.

  He loomed over her, coming to a halt with the barrel of her gun digging into his chest. The slow, rhythmic thud of his heartbeat reverberated through the steel, into her palms. Heat radiated off him—hotter even than a demon, whose skin felt feverish to the touch. Taylor had heard that a dragon’s heart was like a furnace. Apparently Michael’s was, too.

  His big hand folded over the top of the gun, engulfing the weapon in his grip. A sharp talon scraped her forefinger. Shuddering, Taylor let go and jerked her hands back—then immediately wished she hadn’t. Without her arms extended and braced, nothing separated them.

  But after she imagined flattening her palms against his scaly chest to hold him in place, she kept her hands where they were.

  “I can’t die here.” He dropped the pistol to the sand. “Even if you cut off my head or slash through my heart.”

  The only ways to kill a Guardian . . . or a dragon. Taylor swallowed hard. “Okay. Since you’re invincible, maybe you should go kill Lucifer, then.”

  Maybe he should go right now.

  “I will.”

  “You haven’t yet.”

  “The coward hides from me. But you do not.”

  Another panicked laugh bubbled up. Lucifer obviously had more brains than she did. “And what will you do after you kill him? Rule over all of Hell?”

  “I have no desire to rule. Only to burn every demon to ash.”

  Taylor could get behind that idea. “That sounds great. But before you do that, we need to talk about getting you out of my—”

  His head dipped toward hers. Taylor choked, turned her face away. There was nowhere to go—but this wasn’t what she’d thought. He wasn’t aiming for her lips. He bent lower. Polished horn pressed against her jaw. Her body shaking, she remained absolutely still, his heat warming her chest like an oven.

  With his mouth hovering an inch from the curve of her neck, he inhaled. Smelling her? His eyelids drifted closed, as if he were savoring the scent.

  Did she smell like food? An image of those sharpened teeth flashed through her mind and a terrified whimper built in her throat. She desperately needed to think of something else. What had they been talking about?

  Demons. “So you’ll burn them all.” It emerged trembling and faint. “Then eat them?”

  “Some. But the hunger never ceases.”

  Oh, God. She shouldn’t have asked. “Killing them all is a good plan, though.”

  Where was Khavi with her plan?

  “With one vulnerability.” Michael’s head lifted, and he looked down at her with unreadable obsidian eyes. A sharp talon skimmed down her cheek. “Give the body to me.”

  She’d feared he might say that she was his weak spot. But giving his body back, no problem. That was why she was here—to dump it from her hammerspace and be free of him.

  Yet she hesitated. This wasn’t the Michael she knew. “What will you do with it?”

  “Consume it.”

  She forced herself not to shudder when his claw traced the shape of her mouth. “You couldn’t return to Earth if you did.”

  “But I could destroy all of Hell.”

  Like a dragon would. Consuming, destroying. Khavi had said the torture of the frozen field had stripped away Michael’s humanity. Was this all that remained? Was this what lay at his core?

  She prayed that wasn’t true. “And if Lucifer reaches Chaos first?”

  “I don’t care.”

  That dark, hollow voice. Taylor closed her eyes, shook her head. This was not Michael. Not Michael at all. He’d sacrificed his life to stop Lucifer from doing that very thing because he cared.

  His talons curled under her chin, pricking the soft skin. “You want to be rid of me, Andromeda.”

  Yes. She couldn’t lie about that. But she didn’t want Michael dead or trapped in this realm for eternity. That was why she’d put up with him in her head, why she’d carried his body around all this time. Not many Guardians were left. There weren’t enough of them to fight if Lucifer escaped from Hell. Every single Guardian mattered, and Michael was the strongest of them.

  The
y needed him back. So why wasn’t Khavi here to finish this? Michael had come.

  “Because it’s in my nature,” he said.

  That terrifying smile stretched his lips again. His hand fell to the front of her shirt. Shocked, Taylor grabbed his wrist, tried to pull it away.

  “Don’t you dare—”

  Cotton shredded like tissue. A claw sliced through her bra. Oh, fuck that. Furious, she lashed out with her foot. Her kick should have shattered bones. Her punch could have fractured rock. He shrugged them off, catching her wrists, pinning them over her head with one hand.

  Gritting her teeth, she waited . . . but this wasn’t what she’d thought, either. Though he stared at her naked chest, that thick club between his legs wasn’t hard.

  He must have felt her relief. “That is not in my nature.”

  Sex, or forcing it? “Because you’re half-demon?”

  Those creatures could perform the physical act of sex, but they couldn’t feel arousal. She’d never questioned whether Michael could. Maybe she should have.

  “No. I have experienced those needs. But there is nothing I have not done many times over in many different forms. The appeal was lost thousands of years ago. Your body does not tempt me to try again.”

  Oh. Well, that was . . . really fucking cruel. The bastard. He’d been in her head. He had to know how many times she’d imagined him being tempted and trying—and how quickly she’d always repressed those thoughts, feeling slightly blasphemous and guilty. But she couldn’t help having them. He had a face like sculpted granite and his body was her personal sexual fantasy come to life. Of course she’d imagined him in bed.

  But this was for the best. He’d only been a fantasy; she’d never wanted sex with him to become a reality. And now that she’d seen this hunger and cruelty at his core, he’d never interest her again.

  Still, his words made her chest ache. But she wouldn’t show it. She wouldn’t show it.

  It didn’t matter. He knew it. Strong fingers caught her chin, forced her gaze to his. “You feel pain over such words? You misunderstand. Your body does not interest me, Andromeda. But you do. When I am invulnerable, I will claim you as my own and fill you with my seed.”

  Taylor sputtered on a hysterical laugh. He couldn’t have just left it at her unappealing body? Because this didn’t make her feel better. “Keep dreaming, asshole. Even on the zero chance of that happening, your seed isn’t filling anything. I’m a Guardian, so that means no kids. Ring a bell?”

  “I do not want children. I want to possess you in every way, to make you mine.” His hand tightened around her wrists when she struggled. “I will keep you close and protect you.”

  “No, thanks. Really. I’ll take care of myself.”

  “As you are now?”

  Fucker. Her jaw clenched as she stared back at him, gathering every bit of hate and anger inside her before projecting it outward. Unmoved by her rage, his flat obsidian gaze held hers for a long moment before dropping to read the symbol between her breasts. She blinked with surprise when she felt the touch of his healing power, then gasped as pain flared through the raw flesh. The warmth of his Gift immediately vanished.

  “It has to be cleansed with fire,” he said softly. “I will kill her for doing this to you.”

  Khavi? Arms still pinned over her head, Taylor looked down at her chest, trying to ignore her tits on display. The skin surrounding the symbol appeared swollen, infected. Just looking at the wound seemed to make it hurt more.

  Taylor despised having to ask him, but she wanted to know. “What does it say?”

  “‘Release.’”

  “What will it do?”

  “Take me from here.” His thumb brushed her temple. “Just as you wished. But destroying the body will do the same. Give it to me.”

  This time she didn’t hesitate. “No. Not when you’re like this.”

  “Then there is another way to destroy it.”

  Gently, his hand wrapped around her neck. Icy horror slithered through her veins. He only had to rip off her head and the body in her hammerspace would be forever lost.

  “Make your choice, Andromeda.”

  Decide whether to let him kill her? Cold sweat trickled down her spine. “You wouldn’t do it.”

  His fingers tightened. “No?”

  “No.”

  She wheezed past his hold on her throat. Choking didn’t matter; she didn’t need to breathe except to speak. His dark gaze bored into hers—perhaps wondering if she was as certain as she sounded. Taylor was certain. He’d protected her, after all. He’d tried to heal her. She had faith that he wouldn’t kill her now.

  Stupid, maybe. But she couldn’t protect herself, so that faith was all she had left.

  The seconds drew out. She couldn’t stand this. “Do it, Michael. Or don’t. Just stop fucking around.”

  His grip eased, but her relief was short-lived. With a sharp smile, he bent his head again. “Perhaps I can convince you to give me the body . . . one bite at a time.”

  Still holding her wrists, he pulled her up, off her feet. She tried to wrench away. The weight of his body held her in place. His fangs pinched the side of her neck and she froze, fear wracking her frame with involuntary tremors.

  God. Would he really torture her? She couldn’t see his eyes, his face—but Michel knew she’d feared he would eat her. Maybe he bluffed, trying to terrify her?

  Maybe he wasn’t bluffing. Michael wouldn’t kill her, but maybe he would hurt her. After all, he could just heal her.

  But Taylor knew that a part of her would never heal from that—and she couldn’t summon even an ounce of faith in him now.

  One bite at a time. Damn him. She would survive this. Let him do his worst.

  “Go on, then. But even if you chew down to my bones, I won’t give the body to you.”

  His mouth was a brand against her skin. The pinch of his fangs became a piercing pain, and beyond their points were his sharpened teeth. She braced herself for that bite, the shredding agony. God, would he really do this? Would he really tear a piece of her away? Her eyes burned. The crimson sky blurred.

  Damn him for that, too.

  “I might cry,” she said hoarsely. “I might scream. But I won’t give it to you.”

  The moment stretched out, endless. Was this more torture, drawing out her horror and fear? He could draw it out all he wanted. She wasn’t going to give him a goddamn thing—

  “I know you will not,” he said against her neck. “And I cannot, either.”

  He hadn’t been extending the torture, then. He’d been trying to work himself up to biting her, and he couldn’t follow through. Thank God. He couldn’t kill her, couldn’t hurt her. There was nothing he could do to her.

  So why wasn’t he letting her go?

  The touch of his healing Gift soothed the pain at her neck. A burning lick up the length of her throat followed. Taylor shuddered, recoiled.

  His left hand gripped her hip, held her still. “So we will sate your hunger, instead.”

  Her hunger? But she wasn’t— Oh, God.

  Arousal burst inside her like a summer storm. Wet. Hot. Electric. Her body arched, straining against his. Her bare nipples brushed his chest. The delicious rasp of his reptilian scales wrung a moan from her throat, but this wasn’t sexy because he still looked like a giant demonic monster, and he wasn’t hard or tempted, and this wasn’t her, this was Michael—

  “Get out of my head!” Her shout cleared the fog of need. Taylor swung her knee, slammed into dick but didn’t produce a flinch. “You bastard! You can’t kill me or hurt me, so you play with my brain? Threaten me with dragon sex? Are you trying to frighten me or just piss me off?”

  Darkness swamped her mind. He was taking over again. Screaming, Taylor fought his possession, but she couldn’t stop herself from lifting her lips to his, from sliding her tongue between his razored teeth to taste the burning heat of his mouth. A desperate sob built in her chest. Tears spilled as she deepened the kiss. Oh,
God. It didn’t even matter what he did with her when he took over her mind. That he did it against her will was horror enough.

  His hand cradled her jaw. Still holding her mind tight, he lifted his head. “I’ll keep you with me for eternity, Andromeda. I’ll use you as a brainless puppet. Your body will live, but you won’t be truly alive—”

  You rotten fucking bastard!

  The shout rang inside her head. She shoved him out of her mind with a scream of rage. Tears still burned her eyes but not in horror and desperation anymore. Only fury remained—and she was done. Done, done, done. A puppet? He’d use that against her? It wasn’t even a threat. Even if Michael could hurt her, even if he ripped out her brain, that wouldn’t give him his body as he’d wanted. No. He’d only threatened that because it stabbed the most painful part of her, opened the wound that never healed and poured acid and salt into gaping flesh. And he’d known to do it because he’d been in her head, because he’d seen her little brother lying in his bed, his mind gone but his body still living on.

  Not a threat. Just deliberate cruelty.

  And if this was at the core of him, if this was his nature, then he wasn’t a Guardian—he was the kind of monster that the Guardians wanted to destroy. So he could have his goddamn body. Just as he’d wanted.

  She met his obsidian gaze, felt his triumph, and realized he’d pissed her off just so that she would give it back. It really didn’t matter anymore. He could have it, and stay here in Hell where he belonged.

  “Fuck you, Michael,” she said.

  She dropped his body out of her hammerspace and onto the sand behind him. Now he’d have to let her go to eat it, and she’d get the fuck out of here.

 

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